Operation Red Book

"Bang--"

The sound of metal colliding echoed throughout the detention room.

The full moon quietly watched the farce behind the iron bars, and the deep blue night sky seemed even more peaceful.

Grace's face was stern, and her clear eyes flashed with anger.

She put one foot on the iron bed, holding the small lace parasol in both hands, and pointed the tip of the knife at Raphael's throat, with less than a centimeter left between them.

Raphael's scimitar returned to his hand at some point, pierced the white umbrella surface, and rested firmly on the sharp umbrella frame.

"Yo yo yo, you're angry out of shame! Hehehehehehe!"

Raphael laughed, and the throat where the tip of the parasword was pointing trembled dangerously as he laughed.

The gap between the two is getting smaller and smaller, and they are about to overlap.

Raphael smiled and took a deep breath. He suddenly exerted force on the scimitar, pressed it down heavily, and then lifted it to the side. In an instant, he picked up the umbrella sword.

Raphael still showed his fangs, and with a slight movement of his wrist, the scimitar threw the umbrella sword and Grace out together.

Grace was pushed hard, and her body involuntarily turned in the air, with the huge feather wings on her back spreading out.

Grace froze in the air with her wings spread, slowly descending like an elegant swan.

"Now that you've calmed down, can you please listen to me carefully?"

Raphael spread his legs, put one hand on his cheek, and spoke in a lazy voice.

"When I say God is dead, I don't mean that God is really dead. That old thing won't die for the time being."

"When I say God is dead, I mean the God in your heart, the hypocritical, shameless, cunning, jealous God. Do you understand?"

"He easily manipulates your heart, allowing you to deny yourself again and again, and occupy your kind soul."

Grace was stunned, with confusion in her eyes: "I don't understand."

"Back then, you went to Rose City to preach. As a messenger from heaven, you protected the people of the city. You were pure and innocent, and you helped the people of Rose City in your own way."

"When there was a flood, you built up the whole mountain; when there was a plague, you transplanted herbs from far away; when robbers came, you made weapons with your own hands; when there was a wildfire, you surrounded the whole city with your wings."

Raphael spoke slowly, and Grace lowered her head in acquiescence.

"As a messenger from heaven, what is your mission?" Raphael asked quietly, his tone questioning.

"Preaching, making the people of Rose City believe in God... Every time I help someone, I always say that this is God's merciful will..."

"Floods, epidemics, robbers, wildfires, these are the tests that God has bestowed upon Rose City, and you, foolishly, have saved them from God time and time again..."

"Isn't that right? Isn't it the job of God and angels to make humans happy?"

Grace asked Raphael back, tears welling up in her eyes.

The corners of Raphael's mouth drooped, and his voice became cold and chilly: "Humans are short-sighted and their thoughts are even shallower. They call you the patron saint, and your status has long surpassed that of God."

"No one in Rose City believes in God anymore. People only rely on your protection... So God must punish you and Rose City."

Grace leaned against the cold wall, her eyes wide open and her whole body trembling.

The feather wings on its back drooped, and feathers with soft light fell down along with the shaking.

"So, so... on the night I was drunk, the empire across the sea attacked me..."

"Overnight, Rose City fell, the city walls collapsed, and the fire soared into the sky. No one was spared, especially the children..."

There was a slight tremor and cry in Grace's voice.

"Is this... a punishment from God? More than 10,000 people from Rose City just disappeared by the sea."

"Yes, your mission has gone astray, so God will blame you."

"In other words, your actions have shaken God's position, and your kindness has violated God's original intention. This is what you call 'mistake'."

Raphael's words were like a hammer, shattering Grace's heart into pieces.

Grace's chest ached, just like the heart of the dead children she knelt before, painful, tormenting, sad, tragic...

She was in no mood to care about her broken heart. Grace felt that her thoughts were tangled into a mess, and she still couldn't escape the cause and effect of the whole thing.

This is Grace's character. She has been escaping since she was born.

Avoid disputes, avoid battlefields, avoid divisions, avoid failure.

The Rose City incident caused her to lose her beloved people. She didn't need punishment from heaven. The bloody face of her child that kept flashing in her mind after she closed her eyes was enough to make her feel unbearable pain.

So she was willing to break the wings of an angel, willing to become a member of the god of death, willing to kneel in front of the cross day and night, willing to recite scriptures, willing to confess her sins...

It's more of an escape than an atonement.

"It's not your fault, Grace, I hope you can understand that."

Raphael said lightly, staring motionlessly at the white-robed angel sliding down helplessly in front of him.

"Whose fault is it? Whose fault is it? If it's not my fault, then whose fault is it... I am a sinful angel, I don't deserve to be an angel..." Grace said tearfully.

Raphael sighed heavily, stood up and slowly walked to Grace.

"You're fine, Grace. Don't sell yourself short."

"Look at you, you are radiating the holy light of heaven, your angel's white wings are still strong, and the magnetic field around you is clean and clear. How can a god of death wandering in the three realms look like you?"

Grace raised her tearful face and stared blankly at the purple figure in front of her.

"Remember? The angel who judged you was Gabriel, and the angel who executed the punishment was Michael."

"Gabriel, as the archangel, makes judgments according to God's orders; Michael may be a dullard, but I believe he can distinguish between sin and truth and goodness."

Raphael smiled, without the intimidation of his fangs, and the lower half of his face with a smile was very handsome.

"Gabriel and Michael still regard you as one of the angels. Your innocence and kindness are the best representation of this."

Raphael pulled up the stunned Grace, picked up the umbrella sword beside him and handed it to Grace, and continued to repeat the previous sentence:

"The kids all love you, they don't blame you at all, they all hope you can continue to be their friends."

Grace shed two lines of clear tears, and her tearful eyes suddenly lit up with a bright light that had disappeared for a long time.

She took the umbrella sword from Raphael's hand and held it tightly in her palm.

The cold moonlight illuminated Grace's pretty face. At this moment, Grace was gentle and friendly, like a warm spring breeze.