The car stopped.
The door opened.
Emma stepped out slowly, her shoes making a soft sound against the ground.
The guards straightened immediately.
Mostang and Kane were already there, waiting.
Watching.
Emma didn't look at them at first.
She just stood still for a second.
Then—
"…You're free to leave."
Her voice was quiet.
No emotion.
Mostang blinked slightly.
Kane frowned.
"Emma…?"
Emma finally looked at them.
Cold.
Distant.
"I said. Leave."
A pause.
Neither of them argued.
They understood.
Mostang gave a small nod.
"…Understood."
Kane hesitated for a second longer—
Then turned away.
The two of them walked off.
Gone.
---
Now—
Silence.
No guards.
No noise.
No one.
Emma stood alone.
Exactly how she wanted it.
She looked up slightly.
At the sky.
At the city lights.
Then she turned—
And walked.
No destination.
Just… away.
---
Somewhere else.
A dim room.
Old.
Quiet.
A single light hanging above.
A mirror.
And in front of it—
Joseph.
He stood straight.
Fixing his moustache carefully.
Slow movements.
Precise.
Controlled.
His reflection stared back at him.
Cold eyes.
Sharp.
After a moment—
He reached into his coat.
And pulled out a photo.
Old.
Slightly worn.
A picture of Vencor.
Joseph stared at it.
Silent.
Then—
His grip tightened.
His jaw clenched slightly.
"…Grandpa."
His voice was low.
Heavy.
"I'll avenge you."
No hesitation.
No doubt.
Just promise.
The air felt heavier.
Like something had just been set into motion.
---
The office door clicked shut behind her.
Quiet.
Clean.
Cold.
Emma walked in without a sound, removing her gloves slowly as she approached her desk.
A stack was already waiting.
Neatly placed.
Prepared.
Her guards had done their job.
She sat down.
And pulled the documents closer.
---
Newspapers.
All of them.
Different sources.
Different headlines.
Same subject.
Her.
And Joseph.
---
She picked up the first one.
Her eyes scanned it quickly.
"THE DEVIL OF THE CITY RETURNS?"
A photo of her.
From afar.
Watching the city.
Grainy.
But unmistakable.
Below it—
Mentions of Joseph.
"Successor of Vencor…"
"Rising figure in the underworld…"
"Possible clash imminent…"
Emma turned the page.
No reaction.
---
Second paper.
"WHO WILL CONTROL THE CITY?"
This one had both of them.
Her photo—
Cold.
Untouchable.
Joseph's—
Sharp.
Calculated.
A comparison.
A narrative being built.
Emma read a line quietly.
"…A war between the past and the future…"
She paused for a second.
Then flipped the page.
---
Third.
More aggressive.
"IS EMMA ELARAT LOSING CONTROL?"
A faint smudge of blood in one of the images.
Probably edited.
Or maybe not.
Rumors.
Speculation.
Fear.
All mixed together.
Joseph's name appeared again.
"Strategic movements…"
"Network disruptions…"
"Kane-linked interference suspected…"
Emma's eyes stopped there.
Just for a moment.
Then moved on.
---
She placed the papers down.
Stacked them perfectly.
Aligned.
Her fingers resting lightly on top.
---
Silence filled the room.
---
"…So this is how it looks from the outside."
Her voice was calm.
Almost indifferent.
But her eyes—
Were sharper now.
Thinking.
Connecting.
Everything.
---
Joseph wasn't hiding.
Not anymore.
He was letting himself be seen.
Just enough.
Same as her.
---
Emma leaned back slightly in her chair.
Looking at the ceiling.
"…You want attention."
A quiet realization.
Not a question.
A conclusion.
---
She reached for one last paper.
A smaller article.
Less dramatic.
But more… precise.
Mentions of broken communication lines.
Silent failures.
Systems going dark.
Kane's work.
Clean.
Efficient.
---
Emma placed it down.
Then stood up.
Walking toward the window.
The city stretched beneath her again.
Alive.
Unaware.
---
"…Good."
A faint whisper.
Not approval.
Not excitement.
Something else.
---
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Focused.
Cold.
---
"Come to me, Joseph."
A pause.
---
"I'll decide…"
Her voice lowered—
"…if you're worth killing."
---
The lights died instantly.
Darkness swallowed the entire floor.
No warning.
Just—
click.
---
Emma didn't hesitate.
Her body moved before thought.
Silent steps.
Sharp awareness.
---
A slam echoed from the hallway.
Then another.
Metal hitting the ground.
A body?
---
"…What."
A quiet whisper.
But she was already moving.
---
She stepped out.
And saw them.
Guards—
On the ground.
Unconscious.
No blood.
Clean takedowns.
Fast.
Precise.
---
Her eyes narrowed.
"…Not amateurs."
---
A presence.
Behind her.
---
Too late—
—or so it seemed.
---
The attacker lunged.
Fast.
Aimed for her neck.
---
Emma turned instantly.
Her hand shot back—
And grabbed him.
Straight by the throat.
---
SLAM.
She pinned him against the wall.
His feet lifted off the ground.
Her grip—
Unforgiving.
Crushing.
---
"…You're not him."
Her voice was cold.
Certain.
---
The man struggled.
Weak.
Panicked.
Not trained enough.
Not calm enough.
---
Then suddenly—
"HELP—! HELP ME—!!"
---
Emma's expression shifted.
Just slightly.
"…What?"
---
Footsteps.
Fast.
Multiple.
---
Guards rushed in.
Weapons ready.
Eyes wide.
---
They froze.
---
Scene in front of them:
Their teammates—
Down.
Scattered.
---
And Emma—
Holding a terrified man by the throat.
Against the wall.
Like an execution.
---
"Ma'am—?!"
Confusion.
Shock.
Doubt.
---
The man choked out—
"She—she attacked me—! I was just—! HELP—!"
---
Emma stared at him.
Silent.
Reading.
Analyzing.
---
Too loud.
Too desperate.
Too… staged.
---
Her grip didn't tighten.
Didn't loosen.
Just held.
---
"…I see."
A quiet realization.
---
Her eyes shifted slightly.
Not to the guards.
But past them.
As if seeing something deeper.
---
"…Joseph."
---
She released him.
The man dropped to the ground—
Coughing.
Crawling back.
Still acting.
Still afraid.
---
The guards looked between them.
Uncertain.
Conflicted.
---
Emma turned her back to all of them.
Calm.
Composed.
Untouched.
---
"Check the cameras."
Her voice cut through the tension.
Clean.
Commanding.
---
A pause.
---
"They won't show anything."
She added.
---
Now—
The guards froze again.
Realization creeping in.
---
Emma stepped forward.
Walking past them.
---
"…He wants a narrative."
A quiet murmur.
More to herself.
Than anyone.
---
She stopped briefly.
Without turning.
---
"And now…"
A slight tilt of her head.
---
"…I'm the villain."
---
Behind her—
The man kept shaking.
Playing his role.
---
But Emma already knew.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a message.
The emergency lights flickered back on.
Dim. Cold. Unstable.
But enough.
---
A guard rushed in, slightly out of breath.
"Ma'am… the cameras"
"are useless."
Emma didn't even look at him.
She already knew.
Power outage.
No footage.
No proof.
Exactly how it was meant to be.
---
Silence followed her as she walked.
Back to her office.
Each step calm.
Measured.
Untouched by the chaos behind her.
---
She entered.
Closed the door.
---
Click.
---
For a moment—
Nothing.
Just the quiet hum of backup electricity struggling to stabilize.
---
Emma walked to her desk.
Knelt slightly.
Reached underneath.
---
Her fingers found it instantly.
A small, hidden device.
Embedded perfectly beneath the wood.
Invisible unless you knew where to look.
She pulled it out.
A mic.
---
Her mic.
She placed it on the desk.
Pressed a button.
Static.
Then—
voices.
Clear.
Undeniable.
The sound of footsteps.
The slam.
The ambush.
The choke—
And then—
"HELP—! HELP ME—!!"
Emma's voice followed.
Cold. Controlled.
Confused.
Not violent.
Not aggressive.
No commands to attack.
No intent to harm.
Just truth.
She listened fully.
Without expression.
Then—
click.
She stopped it.
"…As expected."
The room felt heavier now.
Not with tension—
But with certainty.
This wasn't just an attack.
It was a setup designed perfectly for failure.
No cameras.
No witnesses that matter.
Only perception.
Only doubt.
But—
They made one mistake.
Emma placed the mic back on the desk.
Her fingers resting on it for a second.
"They assumed I rely on systems."
A quiet thought.
Her eyes lifted.
Sharp.
Focused.
"I don't."
She stood.
Straightened her jacket slightly.
Outside—
The narrative was already forming.
Rumors spreading.
"Emma attacked her own guards."
"Power outage cover-up."
"Emperor losing control."
Joseph's move.
Clean.
Smart.
Dangerous.
Emma walked toward the door.
Hand on the handle.
"…You want to play with perception."
A faint smirk appeared.
"Then I'll show you what control really looks like."
She opened the door.
And stepped back into the world.
Now—
She had proof.
And more importantly—
A reason to end this.
Chapter end.