Chapter 9

The walking group hadn't even made it to the park before turning back.

"Daddy, you really won't help me? I think my throat is getting itchier and itchier."

Vivienne held Ivy. The corner of her mouth twitched. She gently coaxed, "Be good, Ivy. Daddy's method is only for emergencies. Your throat is itchy because of the wind just now. We'll go home and Mommy will make you some honey water."

"We're not going to the park?" Ivy poked her head out from Vivienne's arms, her little face full of disappointment.

"Next time." Vivienne smiled, one hand supporting Ivy's bottom, the other already reaching around to Vincent's waist and pinching hard.

Vincent grunted and looked down at his wife.

Vivienne's smile grew even sweeter. Her lips barely moved as she mouthed: We'll settle this when we get home.

Vincent pulled his hat lower, pretending not to see.

He had acted on impulse just now — a force of habit, without thinking about Ivy being right there.

Luckily his daughter's brain didn't quite work that way. Otherwise, they'd be on their way to the police station right now.

No, actually they'd be on their way to dump a body.

Silas walked at the very back, watching all of this unfold, and let out a silent sigh.

This family was headed for disaster sooner or later.

Back home, Vivienne immediately set Ivy down on the sofa, then turned and grabbed Vincent by the collar, dragging him down to the basement.

The moment the basement door closed, a dull thud came from inside, like someone being slammed against the wall.

Ivy sat on the sofa, her emerald eyes blinking. "Did Daddy get tired from helping people? Is Mommy giving him a massage?"

Silas happened to be walking by and nearly dropped the part in his hand.

"...Yes."

He walked over to his workbench without expression, sat down, and started fiddling with the scattered mechanical parts. His face stayed completely blank, but his fingers moved at a dizzying speed.

Ivy slid off the sofa, bare feet padding across the floor, and pattered over to Silas's side. She stood on her tiptoes to see what he was holding.

"Brother, what are you making?"

"Nothing."

On the table sat a metal ring about the size of a thumb.

"Ooh, this is so pretty!"

Ivy's eyes suddenly lit up. She pointed at the metal ring, her voice full of wonder.

Silas looked down at the ring, his expression going stiff.

It was his newly made anesthetic dart launcher. The surface of the ring was carved with delicate patterns, making it look like an ordinary piece of jewelry, but on the side was an almost invisible bump. Press it, and a silver needle coated with a powerful anesthetic would shoot out.

Range: three meters. Target loses consciousness within two seconds of impact.

He wanted to hide it, but it was too late. Ivy had already stretched out her little hand and was carefully tracing the patterns on the ring, her emerald eyes sparkling.

"So pretty, so pretty! It would look so good on Brother's hand!"

Ivy looked up at him, her face full of excitement.

Silas stared at her for two seconds, then without expression slid the ring onto his index finger. "Does it look good?"

"Yes!"

Ivy nodded eagerly, her little hands clapping with enthusiasm. "Brother's hands were already pretty, and with the ring they're even prettier!"

The tips of Silas's ears turned red again.

He lowered his head and pretended to fiddle with the parts, hiding the hand with the ring under the table.

Silas made up his mind right then. Things like this absolutely could not be left anywhere his sister could reach them.

If she got curious and pressed it and knocked herself out, Mommy would melt him and the ring down together.

Ivy ran around to the other side of the workbench, her eyes scanning the oddly shaped parts on the table, when she suddenly stopped.

"Brother, what's this?"

She pointed to a fist-sized metal device sitting in the corner. It was shaped like a curled-up hedgehog, its surface covered in fine serrated spikes that gleamed coldly under the light.

Silas went rigid.

That was his newest auto-tracking trap.

Built with a miniature thermal chip and a spring-driven mechanism. Once a target is set, any living creature with a body temperature above thirty-five degrees Celsius that enters a ten-meter radius triggers it to spring open automatically, extending six metal legs fitted with barbed hooks, lunging at the target at two meters per second and clamping down with relentless force.

The clamping strength is enough to sever an adult's ankle.

"Brother?"

Ivy tilted her head at him and stretched out one small finger to carefully poke the metal hedgehog.

Silas's heart clenched hard.

Don't hit the switch.

Don't hit the switch.

Don't hit the switch.

Ivy didn't hit the switch. But she picked the device up, holding it in both hands and lifting it to eye level for a closer look.

"This looks kind of dangerous." Ivy blinked, her tone completely innocent. "Is it a toy Brother made?"

Silas's throat moved. "It's for catching rats."

"Catching rats?" Ivy's eyes lit up even more.

Silas kept his expression flat. "Mm. There have been rats in the house lately. So I made a rat trap."

This was technically true.

There really were rats in the basement.

Except those rats usually walked on two legs, and after being caught, they weren't clamped to death — they were skinned by Mommy.

Ivy looked down at the strange, spike-covered metal device, blinking once, then again.

Then she held the metal hedgehog up and looked at Silas with pure admiration. "Brother is so amazing, he can even make things to catch rats. Our house is so old, there must be tons of rats. With Brother's rat trap, they'll never dare steal our food again."

She got more and more excited, her small hand grabbing Silas's sleeve and swinging it back and forth. "And we can turn the rat meat into patties and sell them outside."

Ivy's little face was full of longing. "Then our family won't be so poor anymore."

Silas said nothing.

He looked at his sister's dead-serious little face, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly.

But at least she wasn't suspicious.

"Mm. Turn them into patties."

"Sell them for money."

"Brother is the best."

Ivy carefully set the metal hedgehog back on the table, then stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on Silas's cheek.

Silas froze completely.

He stayed in that lowered position, not moving at all.

His left arm was wrapped in Ivy's embrace, and through the fabric he could feel the soft warmth of her little cheek pressing against him.

It was a strange feeling. Strange enough to cause a brief lag in his brain.

But his right hand reached out on its own and gently patted the back of Ivy's head.

After doing it, Silas himself was stunned.

He stared at his right hand, a flicker of confusion crossing his amber eyes.

What kind of response was that?

Why had his body done that on its own?