The Deadly Assassin Robin (Tristan Storm) novel Chapter 1430

Robin turned his head to glance at his sweet daughter, and his heart bloomed with joy.

Her rosy cheeks were pressed gently against his ear, and her eyes—clear as spring water—shimmered with a mix of nervousness and mild indignation.

The amber glow of the setting sun filtered through the leaves, casting a warm light on her long, clever lashes.

Even the air between them, so close they could feel each other's breath, seemed charged with a powerful sense of purpose.

In that fleeting moment, her radiant eyes held no other thought but deep concern and unwavering love for her mother.

Robin gently ran his hand through his daughter's hair. "Carrie," he said softly, "your mom was right. Robin is a bit of a jerk. He didn't protect her well enough, and she got hurt because of him."

Carrie Ramsey tilted her little head, her delicate brows furrowing with confusion. "So where is that jerk Robin?" she asked, her voice full of sorrow.

"Dad, let's go find him and give him a piece of our minds!" said Jaron, wiggling into Robin's lap, his face brimming with the spirit of a tiny warrior.

Robin tousled Jaron's hair and saw his younger self reflected in the boy's determined eyes. "Robin may be a jerk, but he truly loved your mom," he murmured. "When she says his name, it's because she misses him."

Carrie leaned against Robin's chest, comforted. "Oh, that makes sense," she said. "I've seen Mom whisper his name lots of times. Sometimes she even cries when she thinks no one's watching."

Jaron's body slowly relaxed. He and Carrie, their foreheads touching, giggled quietly in Robin's arms.

"Daddy, Mommy loves your fish dishes best," Carrie said with a hungry slurp. "I want some too. I'll go get her for dinner."

Jaron pinched his sister's cheek. "Drooling again! You look so greedy. Mom says if you keep that up, you'll turn into a little piglet."

Carrie hurriedly wiped her mouth and protested, "Mom said we both need to cut back! If we keep eating like this, we'll become twin piggies."

Jaron went quiet at once, grabbed her hand, and led her toward the lakeshore.

Their chubby figures waddled side by side, whispering secrets. "Jaron, don't say I'm chubby anymore, okay? Aunt Joanna and Brenda said chubby girls aren't cute.

"And Rita keeps pinching my butt, saying it's as round as a bear's!"

Jaron nodded solemnly. "Okay, I won't call you chubby, and you don't call me chubby either. Deal?"

"Deal! Let's go get Mom for dinner!"

"Hahaha!" Their laughter floated down the path like music in the twilight.

From a distance, Robin watched his children chatter and tease one another, his eyes full of contentment.

Beyond them, the silhouette of his beloved wife shimmered at the edge of the lake, bathed in golden light. The sounds of fall—the chirping insects, the rustling water, the buzz of cicadas—seemed to blend into the children's joy.

What more could a man wish for in this life?

Three years had passed.

The once-invincible Divine Drakebane, the terror of a hundred battlefields, had long since vanished in a tragic air crash over the Southwind Sea.

He had faked his own death to buy peace and healing for Shirley, whose soul had been shattered in a terrible accident.

In the depths of the Mistral Ocean, Robin had detonated the jet and secretly swapped everyone onto the firebird, then slipped away to the hidden island of Qacalisle.

From that moment on, he vanished from the world, living quietly under an assumed name at the foot of the hills, surrounded by the warmth of an ordinary life.

Robin drew a boundary here, cutting off all ties to the outside world. No one was allowed to set foot beyond it. Alone, he remained, caring for Shirley in this secluded haven.

With the help of the Aether Codex and the healing properties of the Bloodshade Fruit, Shirley's fractured spirit had slowly begun to mend.

But she was still incomplete. Her three souls and seven spirits—as the Codex defined them—were still missing pieces.

"You're not Robin!" Shirley said flatly, casting a blank glance at him and shaking her head with quiet bitterness.

"Robin is the most handsome man in the world. He's my hero. Look at you now, all gray and tired. How could you be him?"

Robin's chest and bittered. "Let's not talk about that now," he said. "Come inside. Just have some dinner with us."

Shirley's eyes lingered on the lake, where the last rays of the sun turned the water crimson. "Robin's omelets were the best," she whispered.

"No matter how hard I tried, I could never match his cooking. It breaks my heart. Robin, I miss you. Where did you go?"

A breeze stirred the water. Ripples shimmered across the lake like a sigh.

Beep-beep-beep ...

From inside the cottage came a sound that hadn't been heard in over three years—an alert from the private satellite phone.

This was Old Fred's private communication line.

The phone relied on a proprietary satellite system, and every piece of transmitted data was encrypted using a unique, custom-coded cipher.

What's more, the encryption algorithm on this line ran to over three trillion digits.

After their last mission, Old Fred had gone undercover deep within the Numerion Empire.

His physical body had ceased to exist in any biological sense.

If he failed to escape before Numerion completed its next system upgrade, his entire consciousness would be erased, forever lost to digital oblivion.

Now, the phone rang. Was it really Old Fred reaching out from the brink of deletion? Or someone—or something—else?