Chapter 87 – The Blind Girl, Sophia
On a South Side street in the afternoon, addicts, homeless drifters, and drug dealers mingled freely.
Pretty much every kind of person you could imagine was there.
As a longtime South Side resident, Jasmine was already used to scenes like this.
She skirted around a few homeless men and continued forward with an expression of open disgust.
William was now less than two meters behind her.
He quickened his pace, stepped forward, and deliberately bumped into her—making it look like an accident.
In that instant, he placed a mental mark on her.
Jasmine was nothing more than a slut.
If Fiona stayed around her for too long, it would only lead to Fiona slipping out of his control.
Unfortunately, it was broad daylight.
William couldn't act openly.
But once night fell, Jasmine would almost certainly head to a nightclub on her own.
And then—amid the chaos—he could deal with her properly.
Yes.
William had already decided to kill her.
Anyone or anything that stood in his way would receive no mercy.
Any factor that might cause Fiona to escape his control had to be eliminated in advance.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!"
Jasmine snapped, clearly irritated by the collision.
"Oh—sorry. I wasn't paying attention," William said calmly.
She had been furious, but the moment she saw his face, her anger faded considerably.
"It's fine," Jasmine smiled. "I'm not hurt."
William had no interest in continuing the conversation.
"I'll be on my way."
Jasmine had wanted to chat a little longer, but seeing his lack of interest, she let it go.
After leaving her behind, William took the subway back to the North Side.
Since he planned to deal with Jasmine, he needed to prepare properly.
Even in a nightclub, killing someone carried considerable risk.
His idea was simple.
Give her the full package.
For example—
The mute, deaf, and blind combo.
And as it happened, he knew of a blind woman on the North Side.
He had seen her the night before, after leaving Veronica's apartment.
She was blind—and quite beautiful.
Now, William was on his way to play the role of a "miracle worker."
Her name was Sophia McKendrick.
A blind pianist.
___
Sophia lived on the North Side.
As usual, she had just finished a day's work and was on her way home.
Life for the blind was monotonous.
Every day, Sophia did nothing but play the piano at work and stay at home afterward—
a strict two-point routine.
But that was the helpless reality of being blind.
She had very few choices to begin with.
Simply surviving already meant she was doing her utmost.
Inside the apartment building, because she had lived there for so long, Sophia no longer needed a white cane to navigate.
She remembered every inch of the space.
How many steps from the entrance to the stairwell.
How many steps the stairs had.
Where the elevator was.
Resignation—and quiet sadness.
But today felt… different.
The moment she entered the building, her sense of smell—sharper than that of most people—picked up on someone nearby.
The scent didn't belong to any neighbor she knew.
That made her uneasy.
It wasn't fear of William as a person, but fear of the unfamiliar itself.
For a blind person, unfamiliarity could be deadly.
Still, this was an apartment building.
People moved in and out. Friends visited.
So Sophia forced herself to endure the discomfort.
Ding.
The elevator arrived.
She entered as she always did.
Relying on her spatial memory, she felt for the control panel, pressed her floor, and stood quietly.
William was inside the elevator as well.
"Sir… aren't you going to press your floor?"
After waiting for a while and sensing no movement from him, Sophia finally asked.
Though blind, she wasn't isolated from the world.
She had coworkers and friends, and she knew she was considered attractive.
If she wasn't careful, she could easily become a target.
That was why she always carried pepper spray in her bag.
"Do you believe in God?"
William didn't answer her question—instead, he asked one of his own.
"Excuse me?"
Sophia was now extremely tense.
Her grip on the cane trembled.
Her other hand slipped into her bag, fingers closing around the pepper spray.
Ding.
The elevator reached her floor.
She stepped out, trembling, the spray now in her hand.
"Don't follow me! Or I won't be polite!"
Her soft, shaky voice carried no real threat.
If anything, to a true predator, it might only be more enticing.
Her warning didn't stop William.
He kept approaching.
"Don't come any closer! I'll scream!"
Tears spilled uncontrollably down Sophia's face.
Though blind, she could sense light.
William stood between her and the elevator lights, allowing her to vaguely perceive his silhouette.
"Miss, I mean no harm," William said calmly.
"I'm only here to bring hope. Nothing more."
Seeing Sophia fall to the ground in fear, he crouched down and reached out to help her up.
But the moment his hand touched her skin, she reacted instinctively—
jerking away violently and raising her other hand, aiming the pepper spray at him.
Seeing this, William had no choice but to act forcefully.
He grabbed both of her wrists and pressed them down.
The pepper spray discharged uselessly onto the floor.
"No—please don't hurt me. Take whatever you want. Just don't hurt me…"
Sophia was completely desperate.
As a blind woman, she had no way to fight back.
All she could hope was that he wanted money—or her body—
and not that he was one of those killers who took pleasure in murder.
"Hey, listen to me," William said seriously.
"I truly don't mean you any harm. I just want to spread hope. That's all. Please calm down."
His earnest tone made her hesitate.
"Y-you're… from the church?" she asked softly.
"You could think of it that way," William replied.
"I'm going to let go of your hands now. Please don't use the spray—
the smell is honestly pretty intense."
As he spoke, he slowly released her wrists.
After a brief exchange, Sophia calmed a little.
She didn't attack him.
She waited.
When nothing strange happened, she finally realized that she might have misunderstood him.
"I'm sorry… I misjudged you," she said awkwardly.
"It's alright," William replied.
William treated different people differently.
It wasn't about wealth or status.
It was simply that most of the South Side scum didn't deserve courtesy.
And Sophia—blind, vulnerable—naturally evoked some degree of sympathy.
"Are you hurt?" William asked, taking her hand again and helping her up.
"No. Thank you for asking," Sophia smiled.
She couldn't see his face—
she was simply grateful that someone helped her to her feet.
"What about you?" she asked gently.
"I didn't hurt you just now, did I?"
"No," William said.
"Since the misunderstanding is cleared… perhaps we can return to the original question?"
He gently guided the conversation back.
He could have simply taken her illness and left.
He chose not to—
not because she was beautiful, and not for ulterior motives.
Just… courtesy.
"So," he asked again, quietly,
"Do you believe in God?"