Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1687

Chapter 1687: Dead dead

As quietness deafened both Atlas and Dean, the latter started grumbling again. Dean had checked all corners for a signal. He even crawled and stood on the counter for a higher reach, but to no avail.

In the end, Dean slumped on the floor with a deep sigh.

"We’re dead, Atlas," he grumbled. "Like real... dead. Dead dead. Do you hear me?"

Atlas didn’t answer.

Dean snapped his eyes at the man, cocking his head to the side. "We’re going to die, and you’re putting your faith in your sister’s mood."

Atlas still ignored him, keeping his eyes ahead, his mind drifting elsewhere. After a second, he finally spoke.

"We are," Atlas muttered. "We’re dead."

"..." Dean’s face soured as his heart felt utterly bitter. He looked away and hissed, letting out another profanity. "If I end up as a ghost, I’ll haunt that Jonathan — no, I’ll haunt the ghost of you. I’ll follow you in the ghost world, and even once we cross over — be it heaven or hell."

"Did you hear me?" he placed a hand on his chest. "I’ll haunt you... forever."

Even before they die, that did sound haunting.

Atlas remained unfazed, closing his eyes. His back was pressed against the counter, arms resting over his knees, his hand playing with the keycard.

"Tsk!" Dean clicked his tongue irritably, his eyes sharp.

A part of him was already exhausted, pushing him to the brink of giving up. But the other part of him simply didn’t want to, and that part was slowly getting filled with rage that he could carry on when he died.

"If you die..." Atlas, after a long time, finally spoke. He slowly opened his eyes, sliding them to where Dean was seated. "...you’ll become a vengeful spirit. I don’t think you’d be able to cross over like that."

Dean’s breath hitched, not by shock, but rather because he couldn’t believe even in this situation, Atlas still had time for nonsense.

"Is that what you’ve been thinking while you were quiet here?" he asked, his face blank, as if he was on the brink of snapping. "Say another word and I’ll kill you right here and now. We’re dying anyway."

Atlas just stared at him and looked away. ’Then, I will not answer.’

Dean, the person who had told Atlas not to answer, scrunched up his nose when the latter seemed to ignore him.

"Damn it —!" he stopped when he heard a sharp yet faint noise. "What?"

He and Atlas turned their heads to the door, furrowing their brows.

"What is going on there?" Dean mumbled, pushing himself up and approaching the door. The whirring of something rang in his ears, albeit faintly.

He touched the surface of the vault, feeling a vibration as if someone was breaking the door. Whether cutting it open or burning it, he didn’t know. But what was certain was that someone outside was trying to open this vault.

"Atlas, do you think that’s Penny?" Dean asked, looking back at Atlas, who was already standing on his feet.

Atlas kept silent, approaching Dean and stopping several steps from the man. He stared at the door, listening to the faint sound coming from outside.

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