Home / LGBTQ+ / Catch-22: To Die Is To Live Hard / Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

All Chapters of Catch-22: To Die Is To Live Hard: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

60 Chapters

The Pursuit

IN THE PITCH-dark afternoon, the room was filled with the mechanical sound of the heart monitor. It had been two weeks since the clash between General and Blanche had occurred, and yet, the General was still unconscious. Nikolai intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them. Squinting at the computer screen, he scoffed. "What? Why?" his companion asked, curious about Nikolai's reaction. He shrugged and clicked on the mouse. "I wonder if Lucien really lost her sanity," Nikolai muttered while zooming out on the surveillance recording. "Insane or not, you should have secured her room better. She wouldn't have escaped her prison cell if I had known your idea of containing her in the Black Organization's secret chamber would fail." Nikolai groaned, irritated by his companion's comment. "Instead of meddling in my business, why don't you ensure your little puppet won't betray you?" he snapped, implying his companion's sudden decision to
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The Entanglement

REALIZING HOW twisted life could be, Yama couldn't help but laugh inside her mind. What kind of situation had she put herself into? Right before her, sat the long-lost heiress of the Emerson fortune—Aurelia Lucien Emerson-Hollingsworth, the Director's missing wife for goodness knows how long. Life indeed had a way of weaving twisted events. Yama sighed and smiled as she continued to tend to the bruises on Lucien's body. "If it wasn't luck, then I don't know what it is, Miss Lucien. I'm glad I was the one who saw you back on the road—what would have happened if one of the enemies had caught you? We might never have known you were still alive." "Thank you..." Lucien uttered with a hoarse voice. She lowered her gaze, trying to hide her bruised face, but Yama gently held her chin, looking her straight in the eyes. "No wonder our Director couldn't move on. You're indeed beautiful, Miss Lucien," Yama said before standing up. Confused,
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The Fractured Moments

THUNDER roars as the storm rages with no sign of letting up. Lightning flashed, momentarily illuminating the room and casting jagged reflections across the rain-streaked windows. The newcomer stood silently by the glass, hands buried deep in her pockets, her presence unsettling. The tension in the air was palpable, and the others remained quiet, wary of the eerie aura she exuded. “It’s been a while since he’s shown any sign of life,” she mused, her voice calm yet cold. She raised a steaming cup of coffee to her lips, glancing at the reflection of the man lying motionless on the queen-sized bed. “Don’t you think it’s time we put an end to this?” She set the cup down on the bedside table, her gaze never leaving the patient. “Honestly, I bet the old man would prefer rest at this point. Revenge is a young person’s game, and he’s far too old for it.” Her fingers brushed the IV tubing that snaked from the patient’s arm, her touch both casual and threat
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The Price of Survival

MOST PEOPLE believe that the more fiercely you fight to live, the more determined you become to move forward and never look back. Lost in thought, she leaned against the wall for support, idly playing with her tanto knife as she watched the general, who had recently awakened. "You must have some sort of talisman within you, father," she said, sheathing her tanto knife and walking over to him. As she reflected on the events of the past week, she couldn’t help but smile with a hint of embarrassment. The general's awakening had been nothing short of a surprise, an event still vivid in her memory. "It was about time," she remarked as she entered her father’s room. The monitor by his bedside beeped steadily, showing stable vital signs, though he remained unconscious. "Are you really going to remove his cardiac monitor?" Athena inquired, her voice tinged with concern over the potential consequences of their acting leader’s decision.
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The Threads of Division

MOONLIGHT cast long shadows across her face as the weight of the truth bore down on her. She could hear the faint hum of her father's words replaying in her mind, like a haunting echo she couldn't shake. Since the very beginning, the General had plotted the death of General Silas Grey, the man who once held his position with honor. But General Elias Grey --- the man Cessair had idolized the moment they had met --- was not even a true member of the Grey family. The General, Cessair's father, has been adopted by the Grey's, his bloodline was nothing but a pure fabrication. Her heart sank as she thought of the man who had silently supported her throughout, a man who had murdered his predecessor out of jealousy, out of his twisted sense of entitlement. She sighed as she closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to the General's story; a story he had never told her in full detail until now. Elias and Silas Grey, claimed by the Grey clan to be twi
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The Crossed Lines

THE DIMLY lit room was thick with tension, shadows dancing across the walls as the General sat at the head of the long table, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His sharp eyes scanned the faces of his most trusted confidants, but his focus remained unshaken, waiting for the moment that would turn the tide in his favor. The heavy door creaked open, and Athena strode in, her heels echoing against the cold floor. She approached with the air of someone who held the key to the future. In her hands, she carried a slim, unassuming folder—the stolen file. Without a word, she placed it on the table in front of the General, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "A gift," she said softly, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Directly from Blanche's team." The General's eyes narrowed as he glanced down at the file, the tension in the room sharpening as he reached for it. Slowly, methodically, he opened it. The room seemed to hold its breath as he flipped throu
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The Under Seige

BITING her thumb's fingernail and bouncing her knee nervously, Blanche peered through the window, trying to make sense of their location. How long had it been since she last visited this place? She could barely remember. After the incident, she'd fled, starting a new life in a different country. She rubbed her hands over her face, feeling uneasy despite having her companions beside her. Alexis glanced back at her and sighed. “How long are you going to act like that?” Alexis asked, her tone a mix of impatience and concern. The car had been parked outside the old apartment for a while now, and Blanche seemed completely unaware. Blanche messed up her hair, frustrated. “Why are you even with me?” Raising an eyebrow, Alexis scoffed. “Because the director wanted me here.” Blanche rolled her eyes and leaned back against the leather seat. “Why do I have to stay here with you guys?” “Why not?” Aracelli shrugged from the fr
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The Mask Falls

ADJUSTING the weight of the box in her hands, the corners digging into her palms as she approached the towering glass structure --- at last! She's already in front of the pharmaceutical headquarters of the Emerson Empire. The grandeur of the building seemed cold, and impersonal, much like the people who ran it now. Her heart raced beneath the plain white shirt and a black leather jacket she wore, knowing what was at stake today. With a steadying breath, she crossed the marble lobby toward the concierge desk. The polished floors reflected the ceiling's modern light fixtures, and their sterile scent of disinfectant filled the air. Blanche's fingers tapped the edge of the cardboard box as she waited for the concierge to notice her. "Excuse me," she began, her voice composed but firm. "I'm looking for the office of the president. Could you assist me, please?" The man behind the desk, a middle-aged gentleman with a name tag reading Marcus, barely glanced
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The Deadly Pact

IT ALREADY started. There’s no turning back now, no room to quit what they’d set in motion. For years, the case lingered in limbo, but this year—this was different. This year, they made progress like never before. Everything was finally aligning, piece by piece, right in front of them. Had any of this event fallen into place, there would’ve been no foundation for the intricate plans they were executing now. Everything—every risk, every loss—had brought them to this pivotal moment. Yama sighed deeply before entering the room where Aerith lay confined. She was safe, but still unconscious. The accident had left her with severe injuries—far worse than Blanche’s. Unlike Blanche, there was no guarantee that Aerith would ever wake up, let alone walk again. Yama gently took Aerith’s hand, massaging it with care, as she did whenever she had free time. Only she and Blanche knew of this place; they needed to keep Aerith secure. "You need to wake up," Yama whispered softly
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The Fragments

THE SHADOWS of her past, long buried and forgotten, should remain undisturbed. Athena gazed out the window of the high-rise residence hotel where she and the General were staying, her mind drifting through the fog of old memories. How many years had it been since she began working with him? Her new identity was a necessity, forged from the ashes of an accident that could have easily claimed her life. If the General hadn’t intervened, she would likely be dead, another nameless victim. Growing up an orphan, alone and vulnerable, she had been easily swayed by the General's compelling offers of protection and purpose. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, the words spilling out the moment she regained consciousness. The young General stood with his back to her, sipping his coffee, the early morning light casting a soft glow around him. “Of course I would save you,” he replied, his tone steady as he took another sip.
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