The Return of the God Level Assassin

LUO YAN jolted upright, his body reacting before his mind fully woke up. His brain, still foggy from sleep, couldn't quite place the source of the scream echoing through the cabin, but he was certain it was one of the women. The details were hazy, but his instincts kicked in immediately. Without hesitation, he swiftly sent a message to their team channel.

Noctis: [Something happened in our cabin.]

Before he could send another word, a chorus of panicked voices began to fill the cabin.

"What...what was that? Who screamed? Sarah? Sarah, are you alright?" Mrs. Thompson's frightened voice rang out, her concern unmistakable as she called for her daughter.

"I'm...I'm okay, Mother," Miss Thompson replied, her voice trembling with fear.

"Then--"

Mrs. Thompson had just started speaking when a weak voice suddenly cut her off, stopping her mid-sentence.

"H-help..."

Though the voice was so soft it was barely audible, Luo Yan had no doubt—it was Mrs. Winslow who had just spoken. As the dutiful adopted daughter, he knew he should respond immediately.

But his voice was so soft that Mrs. Thompson's voice immediately swallowed it up.

"Mrs. Winslow? Is that you, Mrs. Winslow? Are you alright?"

"I- I'll turn on the lamps," Miss Thompson said.

Luo Yan heard scrambling in the narrow space between the bunk beds—probably Miss Thompson across from him, trying to light the gas lamp. He took the chance to climb down and see what was going on. It wouldn't be counted as 'out of character'; after all, he was playing an orphaned child, newly adopted and still getting used to the presence of his "mother." If he thought she might be in trouble, wouldn't he want to check for himself? It was a natural reaction for a child in his situation.

As soon as Luo Yan's feet touched the cabin floor, a soft glow filled the small space as the gas lamp finally flickered to life. The light was gentle, not harsh on his eyes, allowing him to take in the details of the cabin immediately. But before he could turn to look toward Mrs. Winslow, a sharp, frightened scream pierced the air from Miss Thompson, followed instantly by Mrs. Winslow's shocked gasp.

He turned toward his "mother's" bunk and caught sight of her struggling form. Blood seeped from a jagged cut along her throat, soaking into her nightgown and spreading across the sheets in dark streaks. Her chest heaved with strained, rattling breaths, and her hands weakly clutched at the sheets, smearing them with fresh streaks of red. In the dim light, her wide, terrified eyes locked onto him, desperate yet still alive, every shallow breath intensifying the unsettling scene in the confined cabin.

"Oh my Lord—" Mrs. Thompson's voice wavered, teetering on the edge of panic. But the sight of Luo Yan standing there, motionless, seemed to snap her back to reality. She drew a steadying breath, then turned to her daughter, her tone suddenly firm and calm. "Sarah, take little Mary outside and call for help. Go quickly."

Miss Thompson snapped back to her senses, quickly wrapping herself in a robe before moving toward Luo Yan. Her hands shook as she lifted him, guiding him out of the cabin. Just before the door shut behind them, Luo Yan caught one last image: Mrs. Thompson leaning over Mrs. Winslow, pressing something white, most likely a handkerchief, against the wound. Blood quickly seeped through the fabric in her desperate attempt to stop it.

"Miss Thompson, will Mother be alright?" Luo Yan asked, keeping up his act, his voice laced with just the right hint of worry and fear.

Miss Thompson froze for a moment, then placed a gentle hand on his back, giving it a reassuring pat. "She'll be alright, little Mary," she murmured, her voice soft but unsteady, as if trying to convince herself as much as him.

Luo Yan then noticed other passengers stepping out of their cabins, drawn by the commotion. They stood in the narrow corridor, faces tense and alert, no doubt having heard the screams coming from inside the cabin. ℞ΆＮꝋᛒƐⱾ

"What's going on in there? Is everyone alright?"

"I thought I heard someone crying out!"

"Young lady, is someone hurt? Do we need to fetch the conductor?"

"Why's there so much commotion at this hour?"

"Please, tell us what happened—is anyone in danger?"

Miss Thompson ignored the growing crowd and hurried straight toward the train attendant assigned to their car. He was already making his way toward her, clearly having heard the screams coming from their cabin.

The attendant stepped forward, concern etched on his face. "Madam, I heard a scream. Is there trouble? Do you need assistance?"

Miss Thompson's voice was low and unsteady, each word escaping with barely contained panic. "There… someone has been stabbed in our cabin. Please, call the train manager—or a doctor, anyone who can help."

The train attendant, clearly unprepared for such a situation, stood frozen in shock. Miss Thompson's frustration grew; every second he stood there wasted precious time that Mrs. Winslow might not have.

Just as she was about to raise her voice at the attendant, a calm voice suddenly spoke from behind her.

"Pardon me. I couldn't help but hear your conversation. I'm a doctor. If there's someone injured, I can help."

Held securely by Miss Thompson, Luo Yan had a clear view of the man who had just spoken. He looked to be in his mid-30s, of average height and appearance, with a kind expression that suggested he truly wanted to help.

Miss Thompson turned to the man, relief flooding her face as if he were a savior. "Oh, thank you, sir. Please, come quickly."

"One moment, please—I'll just retrieve my medical bag," he replied calmly before stepping away.

As they waited, Miss Thompson turned sharply to the attendant, who was still standing frozen in place. "Go get the train manager, now," she ordered, her tone firm. The attendant blinked, finally snapping out of his daze, and hurried off.

Meanwhile, other passengers crowded around, peppering them with questions about what had happened, their worried voices growing louder.

Noticing Miss Thompson was close to losing her patience, Luo Yan decided to help by letting out a quiet, distressed cry.

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