Chapter 154

Emma wished she could see photos of Justine competing. Justine, a top student at Charon Military School, had represented them in the Krot Competition, a global trainee event, where she tragically died.

Gaining access to the archives proved easy. A simple steel wire opened the unlocked door. The archives, though publicly accessible during major events, were rarely visited by students. Inside, Emma found a display showcasing the school's history and prominent alumni, including international competition winners.

Justine had aspired to win the Krot Competition but suffered a fatal heart attack while crossing the low-pile net. After her death, the school quietly removed all mention of her. Emma found no interview, but she did see Justine in an old group photo from her first day. The class photo itself wasn't displayed, but a blurry figure near the camera—a bright smile and fair complexion—immediately identified itself to Emma as Justine. “My Dummy!” she whispered.

The sight of Justine, even as a blurry shadow, deeply affected Emma. Tears welled in her eyes, her hand trembling as she reached out, yearning to touch the face she missed so dearly.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from outside, "Who's there!"

Emma snatched her hand back, spun around, and leaped out the window, scaling a large tree. The leaves provided excellent cover, she thought, a perfect escape. But her pursuer was just as skilled. He followed her, breaking the window and climbing the tree.

Emma fled, but he relentlessly pursued her. His skills matched hers. As she prepared to jump a steep slope, he called out, "Emma?"

She froze. His voice, reminiscent of Liam and Sean, triggered memories of Richard's recent letter. They both stopped.

A tall, handsome man in black military boots emerged from the trees. His eyes resembled her uncle's. Skeptically, she asked, "Uncle Richard?"

He beamed. "Yes! It's me!"

Emma laughed; she'd found her Uncle Richard in the most unexpected way. Few could match her speed, but he was one of them. She was relieved it was him. If anyone else had caught her, expulsion from Charon—and the truth about Justine's death—would have been lost.

"But, Emma, what are you doing here so late?" he asked.

Trusting her uncle—knowing from her past life that her four uncles and Liam would never abandon her—Emma explained her quest to uncover the truth behind Justine's death.

Richard, far from rebuking her, was supportive. "Good girl. We are proud of you." He admired her loyalty.

"I have friends in the international sporting circle," he said. "While Krot Competition records aren't public, I can try to obtain information for you."

Emma's eyes lit up. "Really? That would be amazing, Uncle!"

"Don't worry," he reassured her, his gaze filled with love and a hint of sadness. As a soldier, he'd been unable to prevent Stella's suicide, a deep wound. He wished to compensate for their incomplete family bond. "I don't plan to marry or have children. I'll serve our country. From today, you are my daughter."

Emma was deeply moved. Richard, though younger than Sean, was still in his thirties—too young to be her father. Yet, his words filled the void of fatherly love she'd always known.

"Thank you, Uncle Richard!" she said.

"Go back, rest, and focus on your training," he instructed.

"Yes!" she replied.

Their encounter in the archives remained their secret. With Richard's help, Emma resumed her training.

Later, collecting a package of Ida's local specialties at the school gate's mailroom, she saw Riley. Emma worried about how much Riley might have overheard from her call with Josiah. Riley noticed her as well. An awkward silence hung between them.

Then, one of Riley's friends exclaimed, "Hey, it's you, our champion! I was worried when you almost fell off the bridge, but you handled it well. That one-legged stance was impressive!" The sarcasm was evident. Rumors of Emma deliberately letting Riley win had circulated at Charon.

Ignoring her, Emma searched for her package. Suddenly, another voice shrieked, "Can't you hear me? Are you deaf?"

Emma, brandishing a military saber, pointed the hilt at the woman. "If you want to keep your tongue, stay quiet!"