"You need to help me," Lara said, her golden eyes boring into Alaric's soul. "But first, you have to make a wish. I don't get involved in human affairs without a contract. Don't you want to catch the monster who caused that hit-and-run? Make the wish, and I will grant it."
Alaric stared at her in awe, the weight of his grief and the impossibility of her power colliding in his chest. He didn't understand the price, but he knew one thing: he wanted justice for Shed.
Across the city, the air in the police interrogation room was thick with tension. Ethan sat slumped in a chair, a cigarette dangling defiantly from his lips, while his secretary stood behind him like a nervous shadow.
The door swung open. A detective walked in with a stack of white sheets, his face set in a grim mask. Without a word, he snatched the cigarette out of Ethan's mouth and crushed it in an ashtray.
"You don't smoke in this room," the detective said, sitting across from him.
"Why would you call out a busy person for simple questions?" the secretary snapped, adjusting his tie. "You could have asked this over the phone."
The detective slowly turned his gaze toward the secretary. "This is not a simple question. It's an interrogation."
"What do you mean?" the secretary stuttered. "The man responsible for the accident has already turned himself in."
"Yeah," the detective leaned forward, sliding a photo across the table. "But the CCTV footage that's been 'malfunctioning' since that night? It's been restored. We've seen the real culprit. And it was you." He pointed a steady finger at Ethan.
Ethan's face went pale, but he maintained his silence until they were released on a temporary technicality.
Minutes later, inside Ethan's luxury car, the atmosphere was suffocating.
"Did you take care of the body?" Ethan hissed at his secretary. "The man we framed?"
"Yes, sir," the secretary whispered, wiping sweat from his brow. "I made sure that there was no suspicion. I don't want anything to go wrong."
As the car sped down the highway, the radio suddenly flickered to life. The secretary reached out to turn it off, but the dial wouldn't budge. A news anchor's voice filled the cabin:
*"A body was found near the deserted construction road today. It has been identified as Mr. Ko, a chauffeur. Police are examining evidence that suggests foul play..."*
The radio cut to static. Both men were sweating profusely. "I swear, I didn't do it, I didn't turn on the radio!" the secretary cried out.
"I did," a voice came from the backseat.
Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around to find Lara sitting calmly behind them, her arms folded across her chest. She looked at them with a mixture of pity and disgust, taking out her card from Ethan's body.
"You are no longer my client. I helped you once," she said, her voice a low, dangerous vibration. "But instead, you drank yourself to stupor and caused an accident. Then, while covering up your mistake, you killed an innocent man. This is why it's never good to help humans like you."
"It was an accident! No—it was a mistake!" Ethan stammered in terror.
"Your 'mistake' made me lose a huge chunk of energy," Lara snapped her fingers, her eyes flashing a blinding gold. "And since I started this deal, I have to complete it. Look at me, Ethan. From this moment on, you won't be able to lie. You won't be able to hide a single dark secret ever again."
With a wave of her hand, the car's steering wheel spun violently on its own. The vehicle screeched into a U-turn, heading straight back toward the police station.
As they arrived, a sea of reporters stood at the entrance, cameras flashing like strobes. The car door flew open. Ethan tried to hold onto the seat, but an invisible force shoved him out onto the pavement. He stood before the microphones, his face contorted as he fought his own tongue, but the magic was absolute.
"I am here to turn myself in!" Ethan yelled, his voice echoing across the plaza. "I... I killed a person! I hit that boy!" The policemen came outside and dragged him inside while the reporter were following behind with flickering cameras.
The sun was beginning to set over the school football field. Alaric sat on the grass, his head in his hands, recovering from the grueling rehearsal. Suddenly, a shadow fell over him.
Lara was standing there, looking remarkably satisfied. "How do you feel now? Satisfied to see the matter has been taken care of?"
Alaric looked up, dazed " Was that all your doings? The news I saw in the television?. Part of him still thought he was hallucinating. "What... what is that for?" he asked, pointing to a bright yellow suitcase sitting on the grass beside her. "Are you going somewhere?"
"It's a gift for you," she said with a mysterious smile. "You'll be needing it. And also... this."
She held out a sleek black card with a silver fox embossed on the back. "Since you will soon be my client, you will be needing this."
Alaric reached out and took the card. As his fingers touched the cool surface, it vanished into thin air. He jumped back in fright.
"Relax," Lara laughed. "I was just showing you how to use it. You have to light a flame for me to appear when you're ready to pay the price."
Before he could ask what she meant, she turned and vanished into the evening mist.
"Alaric?"
A woman approached him from the sidelines. It was Emily, the head coach of the school football association. She stared at the yellow luggage and then at Alaric's shocked face.
"Hi, Alaric. It seems you've already heard the news?"
"What news?" Alaric asked, looking surprised.
Emily smiled, a look of genuine pride on her face. "The youth national team scouts just called. You've been chosen, Alaric. You're going to play for the country."
Alaric looked at the empty space where Lara had stood. The "Pay-to-Win" game had officially begun.