The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 164: The Mystery of Her Identity

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"So, when Hawkeye approached me and said they wanted to recruit me, I recognized the name. Shadow Pavilion. It triggered something. I thought maybe if I joined, I could find the answers I'd been searching for."

"But once I was in, I realized how impossible that was. Everyone in the Pavilion used nicknames. No one revealed their real names, real faces, or real pasts. It was like trying to find a grain of sand in the ocean."

She clenched her fists. "Eventually, I knew there was no point in staying. But it's not that easy to leave a killer's guild. I told Hawkeye, again and again, that I wanted out. But that bastard threatened to expose my identity if I left."

"I've wanted to kill him for so long," she spat, angrily kicking a rock at her feet.

John stayed silent for a beat, then smiled gently. "What matters is—you're free now."

"Yes," Alice nodded, her eyes softening. "As for my family background? To hell with it. All I need now is you... and the others. You seven are my family now."

John chuckled. "Yeah, we're a family. After all, we took that vow when we were kids—"

He caught himself, shutting his mouth too late.

Alice raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her gaze. "Go on. Were you about to say you wanted to marry us sisters?"

"I didn't—"

"Really?" she cut him off, stepping close and lifting his chin with slender fingers. Her long, fox-like eyes gleamed mischievously. "If you could only choose one of the seven of us... who would it be?"

Choose? Was she serious?

Only kids make choices.

"Of course it's you," John said quickly, guilty as charged.

You're the one asking the question, he thought. Of course I'll pick you. If I picked someone else, you'd kill me on the spot.

"Liar," Alice teased, narrowing her eyes. "We've had plenty of chances to—"

"Alice, let's... let's deal with the corpse first!" John interjected awkwardly.

Later that night, after returning from the Night Rose Bar, John slipped into the backyard alone.

He stood in the darkness for a long while, hesitating.

Finally, he pulled out his phone and dialed a special number. When the line connected, he spoke in a low voice, "I want you to investigate someone's background for me."

He knew it was against the old Taoist priest's advice—he'd been warned not to dig too deeply into people's identities. But John couldn't help himself. He had to help Alice. So he contacted the Seven-Two Intelligence Agency, his most discreet and powerful network.

A few minutes later, a reply came.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry. We found nothing on Miss Alice Moon. We've scoured every source. The earliest trace we found was when she entered the Sunshine Welfare House."

John's expression tightened.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Then... look into the other six."

He sent the files of the remaining six sisters to the secret department.

But the result was the same.

Nothing.

The records began only from their time at the welfare house. Even Queenie Yeats, who had reunited with the Yeats family, had no data from before her adoption.

After a heavy silence, John whispered, "What about me?"

"...Forgive me, Your Majesty. My incompetence..."

John's heart sank.

The most powerful intelligence network at his disposal couldn't uncover a single thread from his or his sisters' pasts. It was as though their histories had been surgically erased—cut off cleanly from the world.

A chill ran through him.

"What kind of game is this?"

Someone—or perhaps several powerful forces—had orchestrated all of this. Carefully. Intentionally. He had once used the same network to investigate Gary Williams, and the results were detailed, precise, and complete.

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But for him and the seven girls...

Nothing.

It was eerie. Unnatural.

The old Taoist priest must have known something. He must have had a reason when he told John to let nature take its course.

"I'll have to make time to return to the Taoist temple," John muttered. "I need answers."

He shook his head and glanced out the window. Dusk had turned to night.

Much later, while John lay asleep in his room, the door creaked open.

A graceful figure slipped inside silently.

"Little John..."

Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, John opened his eyes and instantly recognized her.

Kate Williams.

She didn't switch on the light. Instead, she reached out, her hands trailing softly over the bed until she found the outline of his body beneath the blanket.