Chapter 619: Tears of the Goddess

Standing opposite the president, Sergei, the man who had followed him like a shadow for years, seemingly casually posed a question before offering him the fatal cup of tea.
A question Sergei already knew the answer to, yet he had to hear it himself.
“Mr. President, at your behest, my hands are stained with blood, ending countless lives.”
“Why bring this up all of a sudden?” The president raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of displeasure in his voice.
“I want to know, was all of this… truly to restore that glory?”
This question, like an invisible needle, gently pierced the thin membrane of “loyalty” between them.
The president knew, and Sergei knew too.
Over the years, the number of lives ended by Sergei's hand on the president's orders was so many that they themselves had almost lost count.
But whether those souls were the cornerstones of a grand ideal or stumbling blocks to personal power, they both knew perfectly well.
Ultimately, those deaths were nothing more than sacrifices offered to the president's coveted throne of power.
Yet Sergei still asked the question.
He was like a believer about to commit a heinous crime, determined to pry a blasphemous statement from the devil's mouth before taking action...
so that his impending betrayal would seem less sinful.
The president gazed at his most trusted subordinate for a moment, his piercing eyes revealing no emotion.
Then, a smile, almost paternal, bloomed on his face.
"You asked a foolish question, Sergei," he said with a smile,
"Every drop of their blood was not shed for me personally, but for this country, for our shared great cause."
Hearing this answer, Sergei's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, strangely settled back into place; he even felt a sense of relief.
If the president had shown even a sliver of sincerity, had admitted that the killings were driven by selfish desires, perhaps... perhaps this deadly cup of tea would never have reached his lips.
But now, he had clearly crossed that threshold.
“Mr. President, today’s tea has an exceptionally rich aroma,” Sergei said calmly.
“Is that so? Hmm, indeed quite good.”
Caught off guard, the president reached out and accepted the white porcelain cup filled with death.
In that instant, it was as if he had received not just a cup of tea, but the trust of the entire world.
“…”
Sergei stood quietly to the side, watching the president bring the cup to his lips, watching him savor the rich aroma, watching him swallow the tea infused with the scent of death.
To say he felt no remorse would be utter self-deception.
After all, he had personally plunged a poisoned blade into the heart of the person who trusted him most in the world.
That question was merely a crumbling refuge he'd built for his own conscience.
But he had no intention of defending himself.
If the president betrayed the entire country for his own power,
then he, Sergei, had betrayed his master for his family.
An eye for an eye, perfectly fair.
"Why have you been staring at me like that since earlier?"
The president took a sip of tea, finally sensing the eerie atmosphere, and slowly set down his teacup.
“Mr. President, have you heard of ‘Tears of the Goddess’?”
“Of course,” the president replied, a hint of smugness even appearing on his face, “a masterpiece produced by our top-notch laboratories, how could I not know it?”
Tears of the Goddess.
What a poignant and beautiful name, yet it encapsulates the most swift death imaginable.
A single drop, just one drop, can turn a living person into a cold corpse in an instant.
Ordinary poisons mixed into tea always leave traces—an unusual odor, a change in color—ultimately leaving no trace.
But “Tears of the Goddess” is different.
It is colorless to drink, tasteless to swallow, and kills without a trace.
Perfect as an invisible assassin.
Like a true tear of a goddess, it silently merges into all things...
Only when the chill of death erupts from the depths of one's bones will the one who drinks it belatedly realize that they have already stepped through the gates of hell.
“I always carry it with me, so I can carry out your orders at any time,”
Sergei said slowly, his voice eerily calm, as if stating the most mundane of daily matters.
“Oh? I didn’t know that,” the president joked, what he thought was a lighthearted remark.
“Anyone who didn’t know would think I spend all my time having you poison and assassinate people.”
“So far, I’ve used it to entertain exactly nine ‘big targets,’ no more, no less.
I’ve always felt that number was a bit unlucky,” Sergei said.
“Now it seems that the tenth spot will soon be filled. After all, only the number 'ten' is considered complete.”
“Hmm? What do you mean by that?” The president’s smile froze on his face.
"I just added a drop to your tea."
"...!?"
The president's gaze darted wildly between the tea in his hand and Sergei's terrifyingly calm face. Shock and disbelief exploded in his pupils!
"Sergei! You...you dare..."
"I'm very sorry. Those damned bastards kidnapped my son and daughter. I had no choice..."
"Just because of that, you dare betray me?! I will never let...uh..."
The president's thunderous roar abruptly stopped; the rest of his words were strangled in his throat by death.
He wanted to roar, to give the order, to tear this traitor before him to pieces!
The overwhelming potency of the drug, like a burst dam, surged wildly within him, destroying all life with unstoppable force.
"You know the potency of this drug better than anyone," Sergei's voice was like a cold narrator.
"Once it enters your body, its effects will spread throughout your entire being within two minutes.
Now, all your bodily functions should be paralyzed; you can't even speak."
"..."
The president couldn't speak, only staring intently at Sergei with his rapidly bloodshot eyes.
The burning emotion in his eyes was less the fear of death and more the searing resentment and bitterness of being betrayed by the one he trusted most.
“Mr. President, your unfinished grand ambitions,” Sergei bowed slightly, as if holding a solemn farewell ceremony,
“will eventually be carried on in your place.”
Only deathly silence answered him.
Perhaps the president didn't even hear Sergei's final farewell before plunging into eternal darkness.
“…”
Sergei reached out and gently closed the president's eyes, which were streaming with horrifying tears of blood, his gaze unblinking in death.
Having done this, he took a deep breath and calmly stood up.
He never dreamed that one day he would personally kill his own ruler.
But now was not the time for sentimentality.
The grand drama had only just begun.
“Guards! The president has been assassinated!!”
He let out a heart-wrenching roar with all his might, the sound piercing through the heavy doors and echoing throughout the entire residence. The guards outside burst in instantly.
"Quick! Someone come here! Drag out that scoundrel who brought in the red tea! It's him! He poisoned the president!!"
Sergei had no intention of dying here with his master.
His children's lives were lives, but his own life was equally precious.
At least, far more precious than the still-warm corpse at his feet.