The dim glow from the crystal chandelier in the VIP room shimmered faintly across the polished black marble floor. The scent of antiseptic mingled with the aroma of old coffee, creating a strange blend of sterility and nostalgia. In the center of the room, Kaivan sat upright on the hospital bed. His posture was rigid, but exhaustion clung to every breath. His eyes stayed fixed on the well-dressed man seated across the round table illuminated by a downward spotlight.
The man studied Kaivan with calm, measured eyes, soft on the surface, calculating underneath. His faint smile carried no warmth. Rather, it hinted at someone who already knew the outcome.
"We want to conduct research on you," he said, his tone gentle but as heavy as fate itself. "About the user of the Tome Omnicent. You could also escape the charges against you. How does that sound?"
Kaivan stayed silent, his gaze tracing the man's expression as if peeling away hidden layers. His hands curled into fists over his thighs. He knew offers like this always came with chains.
"Fine," he said at last, his voice steady but sharp. "But I want my brother taken with me. He needs treatment. He needs to wake up from his coma. Can you do that?"
The man crossed one leg over the other, tapping his knee lightly. "Only that? I can bring all your 'subordinates' outside with you as well, if you wish."
Kaivan frowned. "Subordinates?"
Leaning forward, the man's smile widened, empty of affection. "I mean the people who follow your lead. When you told that boy to beat up the pickpocket, for example."
Kaivan froze. Memory flickered through him, like dust swept by a sudden wind. "Ah... you mean Radit," he whispered. Then his breath caught. "Wait. What did Radit do? Why are they all here now?"
The man leaned back in his chair. His voice was calm yet unyielding. "Because they trust you. Whether you realize it or not, you've become their leader. Your decisions, the tome's influence, drew our attention. Everything you did affected the people around you."
The room seemed to shrink around him. Kaivan's breath hitched. The ticking clock grew louder, its rhythm echoing in his skull.
"I never asked them to help me," he whispered.
"But they did," the man replied, his tone soft yet suffocating. "And that is why I'm here. You are special, Kaivan. You have something no one else has. That is why I want to help you out of this situation..."
Silence settled over them. Kaivan's breathing sounded like screams trapped behind closed doors. Outside, footsteps approached. Through the frosted glass, Felicia and the others appeared, shadowed silhouettes waiting for answers.
Kaivan sat frozen, a puppet with its strings cut, while the man's final words lingered like a trap tightening around him.
The hospital corridor had become a battleground of tension. Cold neon lights cast harsh shadows over the five figures standing in a tight line. Radit stood in the center, eyes narrowed and sharp. To his right, Ethan crossed his arms casually, but his gaze was alert. Raphael stood firm and tall, his presence heavy like a drawn blade ready to strike. Thivi leaned against the wall, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips though her eyes remained keen. At the end of the row, Felicia stood graceful and composed, her fists clenched at her sides.
The door to Kaivan's room opened.
A tall man stepped out.
His elegant black suit framed his athletic build. His sharp jaw and intense eyes radiated a confidence so unwavering it dominated the corridor without effort. His steps were steady, not rushed, but commanding, as if he owned the very air.
Radit moved forward, blocking his path with a firm stance. He lifted a hand slightly, wordlessly signaling the man to stop.
"Sorry," Radit said, his voice low but resolute. "But why are you here now?"
The man halted in the center of the corridor. A thin, cold smile touched his lips.
"Ah. Radit, isn't it?" he replied casually, as though greeting an old friend. "I'm here because I want to speak with all of you. It's about Kaivan. Shall we step outside?"
The five of them exchanged wary looks, suspicion thickening the night air. After several long, heavy seconds, they followed the man out of the hospital.
The night breeze swept across the empty courtyard, leaving a cold trace in the air. The faint scent of antiseptic mingled with the earthy smell of post-rain soil. Streetlights cast golden halos above their heads, stretching their shadows across the ground like ghostly hands waiting to strike.
At the center of the courtyard stood a man in a dark coat. His tall frame blended with the night; half his face hidden beneath a high collar and unruly hair. Yet his eyes gleamed sharply beneath the light. His name was Levan, a new name that night, but his presence felt like a shadow that had long lurked behind the veil of reality.
Nine figures formed a loose circle around him, not out of unity, but suspicion. Radit stood at an angle, one hand in his pocket, his expression mocking. Ethan looked relaxed, yet his hawk-like gaze missed nothing. Raphael crossed his arms, unmoving, a silent sentinel who could cut through any lie. Thivi stood tense, while Felicia nervously twirled a strand of her hair, her arms folded defensively.
Behind them, four others held their breath: Frans with empty eyes; Livia trembling as she held her own arms; Isabel frozen in confusion; Zinnia standing stiff as cracked porcelain, angry, yet afraid.
Levan took a long breath. His voice rumbled like distant thunder drawing near. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Levan," he said, each word carving space into their chests. "I'm of Chinese and Georgian descent." It was an odd statement, but it only deepened the mystery, hinting at a darker story behind him.
His gaze sharpened. "And all of you… are already on the wanted list for your past cases."
Time stopped. No wind, only the pounding of hearts.
Radit frowned. Raphael's fists tightened. Thivi froze. Zinnia stepped forward, trembling, yet her eyes burned like a wounded creature refusing to submit.
"What do you mean?" she snapped. "I never did anything bad! I'm a good girl!"
Levan stared without blinking, his gaze cutting like a blade. "You fired a gun at someone." His tone was flat, an executioner's verdict. Zinnia fell silent, shoulders lifting before collapsing. She couldn't deny it. Every eye turned to her, quiet, waiting for her next breath.
Levan continued without pause.
"Raphael. Acts of terrorism. Murder."
Raphael lifted his head slightly, meeting Levan's eyes with a calm, unflinching stare. He said nothing. He accepted the accusation like a shadow he could never escape, an inseparable piece of who he was.
"Felicia. You killed someone with a blunt weapon."
Felicia didn't move. Only her eyes darkened further. Her long hair draped across her face as her fists tightened until her nails nearly broke skin.
"Ethan. Theft and public disturbance."
Ethan let out a crooked grin, more reflex than bravado. His foot shifted, searching for steadiness. His lips parted slightly before he shut them again.
Then Levan looked at the next four.
"Frans. Livia. Isabel. Thivi. You were involved in illegal gold trading and unauthorized electronic waste dismantling."
His words fell like shards of glass piercing their chests. The air tightened. Frans scrubbed his face as if trying to erase reality. Livia trembled violently, her lips quivering. Isabel stood frozen, empty-eyed. Thivi forced a grin, but it looked like a wound reopened.
Levan's voice turned colder. "And that's not all."
All eyes fixed on him, bracing for the final blow.
"Vella will not sit still. She's an important part of the government. If she sees you as a threat, she will destroy you without hesitation."
The name echoed in the air, Vella. A figure more monster than human, a living specter whispered about in fear.
Raphael was the first to speak, his voice low and sharp like a hidden blade. "You mean the one who killed Kaivan's parents?"