Die Wiedergeburt der Tochter des Spezialagenten

Kapitel 1

The Canary in the Cage Author: S Water

The high-ranking young master Cecil, who possessed immense wealth, suffered the tragic assassination of his family, leaving only him and his loyal servant Isri.

Isri's obsessive and insane possessiveness toward Sehir reached its peak, and Sehir was confined to a high place, becoming a pampered canary in a cage.

The canary wanted to break free of its shackles, but was dragged into the abyss and worshipped as its own god.

"Young Master, where do you intend to escape to?" Isri asked, his expression obscure and his face cold.

Sesil yelled angrily, "Get away! Don't touch me!"

Instead of getting angry, Isri laughed, his desire growing stronger: "If you run away again, young master, I won't mind putting shackles on your ankles."

Cecil's eyes trembled slightly: "Madman!"

...

My love for you will remain faithful until the end of my life, my great Sehir, I love you.

The eternal rose will never fade, just as my love for you will last forever.

————

Chapter 1

In winter, the streets of West Asia are covered in white.

Today is a prayer day at the Greenland Church. The statue of the goddess standing at the front of the church is wrapped in thick feathered wings.

She was as proud as if she had been kissed by God. Although she was just a model on display, she was not large in size, but she was magnificent and majestic. The golden cross that stood tall on the dome pointed straight to the sky.

Sehir was the first to arrive at the church to pray, accompanied by a deacon in a tailcoat. As soon as they stepped off the carriage, people hurriedly made way for them in fear.

This butler has black hair, which is a symbol of demons in West Asia and a messenger of hell.

No one around dared to look up, except for a very few atheists who dared to stare directly at the beauty.

His face looked as if it had been kissed by a demon; his skin was white and smooth, like silk, without a single blemish.

Sehir held a cane, his bright golden hair hidden by a black top hat. There was no one in the church at this time. Sehir took off the top hat and placed it in front of his chest, his soft, short golden hair swaying twice in the air.

Cecil walked up to the goddess statue, placed his top hat and cane on the table behind him, looked at the goddess, clenched one fist and rested the other hand on the other, and closed his eyes.

[Your Holiness, I, Sehir, humbly pray to you, please let me escape this madman named Isri beside me.]

Cecil repeated it three times before opening his eyes, taking the cane and top hat from behind him, and looking at Isri.

Why don't you pray?

Isri raised his right hand and placed it on his left shoulder in a gentlemanly gesture, saying respectfully, "My dear and great Master Sehir, I only admire you; you are my god."

Cecil frowned slightly, his deep blue eyes trembled slightly, and he turned to leave: "Madman!"

Isri smiled and followed Cecil's pace: "Young master, the road outside is slippery, walk slowly."

Today they are going to the palace to pay their respects to the Queen. In recent days, the West Asian continent has been gripped by a series of kidnappings and murders, causing widespread panic.

They only pick pretty girls. They don't want ransom or status; they just want excitement.

After the girls were kidnapped, their tender flesh was cut off piece by piece, and sharp instruments were used to pierce their bodies and tear apart their organs. Their intestines were pulled out of their bellies and wrapped around their waists.

Even worse, some people hear terrifying nursery rhymes at night.

Then the next day, she would be hung in a crowded alley, where she would be met with the piercing screams of women and the cries of her relatives.

West Asian police immediately dispatched personnel, but three weeks have passed and not only have they found no clues, the number of victims has increased significantly.

The matter was quickly reported to the Queen, who was also in her youth and terrified of such things. As a result, notices were posted all over the city.

[Whoever can solve this case, I will agree to all their demands!]

This was such an insatiable offer, yet no one dared to step forward. They were afraid; they were afraid of retaliation. Those people were devils!

"Who are you! What are you doing here!" Soldiers outside the palace blocked the carriage's path with swords in hand.

Sehir sat in the car without moving, not even glancing at Isri.

With a smile on his face, Isri stepped down from the carriage and said respectfully, "Hello, we are the Cretis family, here to discuss the kidnapping case with the Queen."

The soldier frowned, thought for a moment, and then spoke without hesitation: "Is it that family that was massacred overnight?"

The next second, Isri's smile vanished, and his amber pupils flashed with cold light: "Your words are very disrespectful to us, and I expect you to apologize immediately."

The soldier looked at Isri, and the coldness in his eyes made him feel a chill run down his spine, causing his sword to tremble slightly.

"I'm sorry, sir, it was my mistake."

Hearing the other party's apology, Islam smiled again: "Very good, thank you for your understanding."

Isri approached the carriage, drew back the velvet curtains of the front seat, and said with his smile unchanged, "Young Master, it's all taken care of."

Cesil hummed in agreement, indicating he had no intention of speaking to Isri.

Isri did not immediately draw the curtains, but stared intently at Cecil. At that moment, the blood in Cecil's heart rushed into his blood vessels like champagne that had been suddenly uncorked.

Isri paused with his white-gloved hand, then reached out toward Ceshir's head.

Clearly, Sesil shuddered and demanded sharply, "What are you going to do?"

Isri's hand froze in mid-air as he watched Cecil's reaction, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Young Master, your hat is askew."

Sehir's hands were as cold as if they had been taken out of a freezer, and he quickly placed them on his head to straighten his hat.

"I see."

The carriage stopped at the entrance of the main hall. Isri opened the door and raised one hand as if to help her up.

"Young Master, we've arrived."

At this moment, Ceshir made a move, pressing his palm against Isri's arm as he got out of the car.

The palace is not a place that just anyone can enter. Apart from the Queen's special permission, only a few nobles of high status are allowed to enter. Currently, only Cecil is allowed to go in.

Isri stood behind Sehir, straightening his disheveled clothes.

He was a full two heads taller than Sehir, after all, Sehir was still growing.

After finishing the task, Isri smiled slightly and leaned down to whisper in Ceshir's ear.

"You must remember what I said: don't let me smell any other scent on you, or you will be punished."

Sehir shuddered, turned around and glared at Isri, biting his lip. The next moment, Isri's eyes turned cold, and he reached out and pinched Sehir's face.

The pain caused Sesil's mouth to open slightly.

"Young Master, you shouldn't bite your lip; it will damage your image."

Sehir slapped Isri's hand away, straightened his hat, and turned to walk into the palace.

Isri stood beside the carriage, watching Ceshir walk away, his eyes filled with greed and obsession.

"Young Master is as beautiful as ever today."

Chapter Two

Sehir gripped his cane tighter. Today was his first time at the palace, and its magnificence was beyond description.

The chandeliers overhead were polished to a shine, and the murals on both sides depicted a medieval ball, with everyone wearing a mask, their faces hidden beneath the masks displaying a luxurious pink hue.

The red carpet underfoot was so soft you could sink into it, and the candlesticks on the surrounding pillars held newly replaced candles, some even scented.

Sehir didn't dare to look any longer and quickened his pace. He needed to get out within twenty minutes. Just thinking about Isri's actions made his palms and lower back ache.

He had tried to escape, but it was as if Islam had planted a giant eye in the West Asian continent; no matter where he ran, Islam always managed to bring him back.

Of course, punishment was inevitable, but he couldn't resist it, nor dared to, as that would only cause him more pain.

All we can do now is submit, submit to Isri’s actions.

When Cecil arrived at the main hall, the Queen was wearing a long black dress that trailed on the ground, and her face was covered by a black veil, obscuring her features.

Cecil bowed slightly and said politely, "Your Majesty, I am Kritis Cecil. I have come to help you resolve the kidnapping case."

The Queen visibly stiffened, but kept her voice as calm as possible: "You know the price of deceiving me."

Sehir straightened up: "Yes, I'm not lying to you."

Because her face was covered by a black veil, her expression was obscured, and Cecil could only discern the Queen's mood by her voice.

"What are your conditions?" The Queen's voice remained calm and even.

Cecil was fearless, and his clear, bright voice rang out in the hall: "I want the title of the number one noble in the West Asian continent!"

The air seemed to freeze, and there wasn't a sound around; not even the breathing of the soldiers standing on either side could be heard.

Cecil remained upright, calculating the time. To be honest, he wasn't afraid of the Queen anymore; he was actually afraid of Isri! That mad deacon!

The longer it went on, the more sweaty Sehir's palms became, and the more nervous he became.

After a moment, the Queen suddenly stood up, somewhat losing her composure: "That simple?"

"Yes!" Sehir replied decisively.