The big boss is reborn and lets himself go.

Catherine was jolted awake from a nightmare as if by an invisible hand, her body trembling violently as she abruptly opened her eyes. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead and nose, sliding down her cheeks and soaking her pillowcase. She gasped for breath, as if she had just survived a life-or-death chase, her chest heaving rapidly.

All around was pitch black, thick as ink that couldn't be dissolved, seemingly opening its gaping maw, ready to swallow her whole. Outside the window, a howling wind swept in, like a pack of out-of-control beasts roaring. Tree branches swayed wildly in the wind, whipping and colliding against each other, making creaking and groaning sounds. Twisted shadows, like the claws of demons, were reflected on the windowpane, shifting and changing unpredictably with the swaying of the branches.

Catherine sat blankly on the bed, her hands gripping the blanket tightly until her fingertips turned white from the force. Nightmare scenes flashed through her mind, each fragment like a sharp dagger, mercilessly piercing her heart. The excruciating pain made her breathing increasingly rapid, her heart pounding uncontrollably, as if it would burst from her chest at any moment.

Time ticked by, and after about ten minutes, Catherine's emotions finally calmed down a little. She slowly raised her hand, wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve, and then let out a heavy breath. She tried to relax and slowly lay back down on the bed. However, the fear in her heart still lingered. Trembling, she reached out and pulled the blanket up to her head, leaving only her terrified eyes exposed. Even so, she kept her eyes tightly closed, silently praying that she could fall asleep again as soon as possible and escape this terrible reality.

Meanwhile, the outside world had been completely shrouded in the shadow of twilight. Thick, leaden clouds surged in like a menacing army, swallowing up the last vestiges of the setting sun atop the palace spire with lightning speed. In an instant, the world became eerily dark, as if night had fallen prematurely.

In an instant, large raindrops began to pelt down, and dark clouds rolled in like surging black waves, quickly enveloping the entire palace in gloom. Then, large raindrops began to pelt down, like cannonballs falling from the sky, crashing heavily against the palace's ornate and exquisitely carved window frames.

The crisp sounds intertwined, forming a dense drumbeat, as if nature were passionately playing a frenzied symphony. Each raindrop was like a stirring note, leaping and colliding, together playing this breathtaking movement. Rainwater streamed rapidly down the smooth windowpane like silver waterfalls, blurring the previously clear view outside. Looking through this hazy curtain of water, the entire palace appeared even more eerie and terrifying, like a mysterious castle hidden deep in the mist.

Even the spacious square in front of the palace was not spared. The once pristine white marble, meticulously paved, was transformed in a mere instant into a shimmering pool. Raindrops fell heavily, splashing high into the air, creating brief, dazzling bursts of water before gently settling back down, rippling outwards. A misty vapor filled the air, adding a dreamlike atmosphere to the square. In the distance, the Neptune Fountain in the center of the square appeared indistinct under the rain. The majestic statue seemed to be struggling to break free from its base and the pool, covered in mist and droplets, returning to the unfathomable depths of the sea.

Behind that magnificent palace lay a beautiful garden. However, the scene within this garden at this moment was shocking; the situation was utterly appalling.

Those roses, usually so vibrant, colorful, and vying for attention, had completely lost their former charm. The relentless rain mercilessly pounded their delicate bodies, scattering them into pieces, leaving them battered and bruised. The once bright and tender petals, ravaged by the storm, detached from their stems, fluttering helplessly in the air like butterflies with broken wings.

Some of these petals drifted with the current, slowly moving along the winding pebble path, like a group of lost travelers, unsure of where they were going; others silently disappeared into the lush grass by the roadside, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye, as if they had never existed.

Once upon a time, this place was a riot of color, a breathtaking sight! The rich fragrance of flowers filled the air, a truly delightful experience. But now? As far as the eye can see, the garden is littered with withered flowers and fallen leaves, scattered haphazardly on the ground, mingling with puddles of murky water, creating a desolate and dilapidated scene that evokes a deep sense of regret.

The palace's towering towers, reaching into the clouds, stand silently in the rain and mist like a mysterious behemoth. Its massive form is sometimes clearly visible, and sometimes shrouded in thick fog, giving it an ethereal, dreamlike quality.

The slippery wall seemed to have been given life by nature, and the ivy climbing on it appeared even more lush and vibrant. Each leaf was covered with crystal-clear water droplets, which swayed precariously, like sparkling pearls that might fall to the ground at any moment.

Through the fine, interwoven curtain of rain, one could vaguely see the warm, hazy light shining through the stained-glass windows. The colorful panes, illuminated by the light, emitted a soft, warm glow, as if telling beautiful and moving stories. Behind the windows, the figures of busy servants flashed by from time to time, hurrying back and forth, silently contributing their strength to the normal operation of the palace.

The wind swept through the winding corridors, its mournful cries like an ancient, melodious song. This song seemed to carry the palace's former glory and splendor, and also to sing of its present peace and tranquility. The incessant rain, like a patient storyteller, slowly recounted the passage of time, weaving tales of sorrow and joy.

In this tranquil yet slightly melancholic atmosphere, Catherine finally awoke slowly from her fragmented and disjointed sleep. Because the tender dream had caused her heart to ache as if cut by a sharp blade, she had slept very restlessly all night, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

It wasn't until dawn, when the first rays of sunlight crept onto the windowsill, that she felt a wave of drowsiness wash over her, and she gradually drifted into a deep sleep. She slept exceptionally soundly, as if the whole world had ceased to exist, and time itself seemed to stand still. Unbeknownst to her, the sun gradually slanted westward, and a magnificent sunset painted the sky, but Catherine's sweet dream continued until dusk, when she finally awoke.

Catherine slowly sat up in her soft, comfortable bed. She seemed not fully awake, sitting there motionless, as if the whole world had shut her out. A dozen seconds passed before her hazy gaze finally focused on the phone screen on the bedside table. When she saw the time displayed, her sleepy eyes widened instantly, a flash of shock crossing her face, but only for a moment before she regained her composure, as if nothing had happened.

Then, Catherine gracefully got out of bed, her steps as light as a butterfly in flight, and headed towards the bathroom. Once inside, she first turned on the tap, letting the clear water flow freely, then gently cupped her hands and splashed it on her face, feeling the cool sensation spread throughout her body. Next, she began to brush her teeth and wash her face methodically, each movement meticulous and attentive.

About ten minutes later, Catherine finished washing up and came out of the bathroom. She glanced at the walk-in closet not far away, then turned and walked towards it without hesitation.