'That Shaw guy was coated with the same smell. From head to toe, it's stronger than the one those two had.'
There was no need to ask who those two were—he already knew. Jake and Ash. Well, now there was only one of them… and then it hit him. Jake—the one he left alive. He thought he had killed everyone related to the Gothams during his heist on the tower.
But then Shaw Gotham appeared on screen like thunder cracking through the sky. For a second there, Elfric thought everything he'd been working for was in vain. It wasn't that Jake had slipped his mind, but he thought he was finished as well. Yet now that Shaw Gotham had surfaced, he needed to rethink his statement about the death of all Gothams.
'You're thinking what I'm thinking too, right?' Orathan said after observing how Elfric suddenly fell silent.
Elfric simply nodded.
The calamity of the possibility was killing him slowly inside. He had no memory of finishing Jake off during the heist either. He had a feeling that if he did, he would remember. Jake wasn't an ordinary human—nothing he couldn't handle, but still, a little bit of a fight.
"What do you think I should do?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
'Kill him, of course,' Orathan said. 'If he is to do or say something, then he must be disposed of at once—along with any other humans who know the truth of your identity.'
He was right. After all, that had been the plan all along. But something gnawed at Elfric, something he couldn't name.
"If he really is alive, then why…"
"HEY, YOU SON OF A—!"
A voice roared from behind. Elfric recognized Christopher's furious tone and turned around to see his friend stumbling forward. He couldn't tell if the flush on his face was from embarrassment—or the wine.
"You think we're still in school, eh?" said Elfric. "Your stepmother will be rather disappointed to hear you curse like that."
"Like I give a fuck what that woman thinks!" Chris scoffed.
Elfric glanced around—thankfully, no one was paying them any attention, and Lady Charlotte wasn't there either.
"You're drunk."
"I wouldn't be if a certain someone didn't ditch me and leave!" Chris barked, raising his brows.
"I told you I was heading to the bathroom," Elfric said, holding out his hand. "Want to smell the fresh peach scent of the soap?"
"Get that away from me!" Chris nearly gagged. Elfric smirked.
"Anyway, I'm tired. I wanna go home."
Elfric knew that if he refused, Chris would start whining—and that was the last thing he needed. Besides, he'd been looking for an excuse to leave.
"Alright, let's go."
And they left together, Chris leaning heavily on his shoulder.
Neither of them knew what was unfolding behind them.
"Hey, Dad," said a young girl with fiery red hair and golden eyes, leaning over the handrail of the second floor. Her gaze followed Elfric as he walked away.
The man beside her, his red hair fading into gray, looked up from his glass. "What about him, Roxana?"
"I want him."
The music below swelled again, drowning out her words—and in the same rhythm that the orchestra struck its final note, the sound shifted.
Metal doors hissed open.
Shaw Gotham stepped into the lab, his reflection gliding across the sterile, white-tiled floor.
Doctors followed behind, whispering in low, respectful tones.
"What are his status?" Shaw asked.
"He is still in the capsule, My Lord," one answered quickly. "His cells have just started accepting the treatment."
"Is he awake?"
The doctor hesitated. "N-no, My Lord. If he wakes up now, he might die of shock. It's best to keep him under. But… if there's something urgent, I can stop the treatment."
Shaw was silent for a long moment. "No," he said finally. "That won't be necessary."
He sighed, gaze flicking toward the capsule chamber. Everything had been a delicate façade to hide the boy's identity—the one bound to the Devil.
What were the odds that Jake survived? That he'd been put under sedation right before the tower burned? It was almost as if the world itself was on that boy's side.
Who was he? Shaw wondered.
After profiling his records, Shaw had realized Jake wasn't a simple man chasing money or fame. No—this one had purpose.
He knows how to use Orathan, Shaw thought grimly.
The white metallic doors ahead slid open as the doctor scanned his fingerprint. The sound of metal grinding apart filled the sterile air, giving way to faint chatter beyond.
The doctors inside stopped what they were doing and bowed.
Shaw's eyes found the green capsule standing at the center of the lab. Jake floated within—barely clothed, brown hair drifting in the glowing liquid, eyes closed in an unnatural calm.
"Soon, we'll start seeing results, My Lord," said the doctor quietly.
"Where is it?" Shaw asked.
"It?"
"The Elf."