True Immortal Heart-Chapter 52: Dusk’s Recovery

Tharion and Caelan stormed into the room together, ready to settle accounts with Dusk — but the moment they stepped inside, both froze in place.

Dusk looked absolutely wretched. His head was covered in bruises and gashes, and his skin had turned a ghostly pale, making him seem more dead than alive.

Their hostility toward him significantly diminished. At this rate, if they so much as laid another finger on him, he might drop dead on the spot.

"Is he... actually still alive?" They asked in unison, casting suspicious glances toward her.

Though they doubted it, a sliver of possibility crossed their minds — perhaps their little darling had gone overboard and brutalized the boy herself.

Noticing the strange, doubtful looks from both her father and grandfather, Lysandra instantly felt displeased.

"What are you two imagining now, huh? I didn’t hurt him, okay? It’s just... just that he’s really, really unlucky!" she muttered awkwardly.

In truth, even she found it a bit excessive to chalk all those injuries up to mere bad luck.

If what he said wasn’t true, then as a heavily injured fugitive and alleged serial killer, Dusk wouldn’t have long to live anyway.

Hearing the noise around him, Dusk slowly opened his eyes — though even with them open, he could barely see anything.

"Your father and grandfather... are here already?" he asked faintly.

At this point, he didn’t even have the strength to sit up and greet them properly.

His torso had taken far worse damage than back when Lucien had beaten him. Even the slightest movement now sent waves of unbearable pain coursing through him.

Hearing his frail, whispery voice, both Caelan and Tharion exchanged looks.

They examined him again and again, and the more they looked, the more convinced they became — this boy might not make it through the night.

"If he dies, we can’t just let his death go to waste," Tharion said.

"Exactly. He’s a dangerous serial killer, after all. His death shouldn’t be meaningless," Caelan agreed with a nod. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Both men were seasoned businessmen, their reputations spotless and respected far and wide. Of course, such pristine reputations didn’t come naturally — everything was a result of meticulous planning and calculated effort on their part.

Lysandra cast an awkward glance toward Dusk, her expression somewhat unnatural. Still, she had no intention of apologizing.

After all, she hadn’t been the one to make the decision in the first place.

Dusk lay motionless on the bed. Though he tried to limit any movement, the corner of his mouth still twitched involuntarily.

’Goddammit, I’m still alive! How the hell can you talk like I’m already dead?! If it weren’t for the need to expand my influence, I swear I’d send you two bastards straight to heaven right now. Damn it, you’re not even worth the dirt under Lysandra’s toenails.’

Helpless, he could only curse internally, feeling that this second life was turning out to be far more difficult than expected.

In his previous life, he’d acted alone, free, and unrestrained. Though he lacked a powerful backing, he enjoyed complete freedom.

But in this life, not only did he have to cultivate strength, he also had to build and manage an entire faction. The level of difficulty had skyrocketed.

...

The three of them chatted for a long time, discussing everyday matters.

Dusk, however, didn’t bother to listen — none of it meant a damn thing to him.

All he saw now were a bunch of annoying people droning on and on.

If he weren’t bedridden, he wouldn’t have to lie here motionless, forced to listen to all this empty nonsense.

Caelan glanced at the timepiece on his wrist and frowned.

He’d already waited for hours, yet Dusk still looked like he was on the verge of death.

"Lysandra, are you sure what that boy said is true? You’re still young — it’s easy to be tricked by scoundrels like him," he said seriously.

Tharion nodded in agreement. Though he truly enjoyed spending time with his granddaughter, it had been hours with no progress — his patience was wearing thin.

But Caelan’s words didn’t shake her resolve one bit. Her eyes remained firm, unwavering as she looked at the two of them.

"Can’t you two be a little more patient?" she asked, her voice calm but firm. "Putting aside how seriously he spoke to me — the possibility of living longer is incredibly valuable. Are you really willing to throw away a chance to extend your lives by years just because of a few hours of waiting? You’ve gambled most of your lives already —can’t you gamble just a few more hours?"

Her words were grounded in harsh reality — life itself was nothing but a series of wagers.

Every decision one made was a gamble. No matter how meticulous the calculations, probability could never reach 100%.

Think about it: when you intend to step forward with your right foot, is the probability truly 100%?

Have you considered the chance of suddenly collapsing from a stroke?

What if an object flies out of nowhere and takes your leg off?

What if someone grabs you from behind at that exact moment?

In truth, there was only one certainty in life. Not even death held a guaranteed 100% chance.

Will humans die? By all conventional wisdom, yes. But have humans truly seen all there is to see in this vast universe?

Absolutely not. Humanity is minuscule and painfully ignorant.

What they do possess, however, is a divine gift — peerless intellect, allowing them to understand this world more deeply.

The day humanity comprehends everything — that will be the day the path to immortality reveals itself to all.

Not understanding as preached by missionaries and their sacred scriptures — no, those people understand nothing at all.

The one who truly understands everything is the one who can turn every thought, every desire into reality — with the exception of a single, ultimate truth.

Caelan and Tharion were old — seasoned by both years and experience. Naturally, they understood what she meant.

"Well said," Caelan nodded. "It’s just a small bet... with a massive reward. We can afford to wait a little longer."

So, the two of them continued to wait, hours passing quietly — and then, finally, the miracle arrived.

[Ding! Reward is being distributed.]

The system’s notification echoed in Dusk’s mind, and he finally let out a long, shaky breath of relief.

In both lives — this one and the last — this had to be one of his most wretched moments.

But now, before their very eyes, his body began to heal — visibly, rapidly.

Wounds closed. Bruises faded. Shattered bones knit themselves together at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.

It was hard to believe he’d ever been injured at all.

Even the old scars — ones that had marred his body for years — vanished without a trace.

At that moment, Dusk’s body could only be described with a single word: perfect.