Rega woke up with his body feeling unbearably heavy, the pain in his back still sharp where Orlan’s bullet had struck.
He forced himself to sit up, groaning in agony while fumbling at the pocket of his suit. His heart froze when he realized something that should have been there… was gone.
“That notebook? Damn it! I lost that important little book! I’m finished!”
Rega’s breath grew ragged as he frantically searched every pocket, but the notebook filled with Kania’s handwritten notes—containing critical information about the secret agency she once belonged to—was nowhere to be found.
His heart pounded violently, cold sweat dripping down his forehead. He scanned his surroundings, desperate to find any trace of who might have stolen the precious book.
But all around him was silence. Nothing but darkness, the shadow of the abandoned building looming over him, with no one else left inside.
“Luckily… this suit is bulletproof,” he muttered, trying to calm himself.
Yet the fact remained—the book was gone. And that book was his promise to his “superior,” one he was supposed to deliver no matter what.
In the middle of his panic, his smartphone rang. The ringtone was one he knew all too well—yet this time it sounded terrifying, suffocating.
The name flashing on the screen drained the blood from his face. It was a name he had been desperately avoiding… and now, with the notebook gone, it was the last thing he wanted to see.
He stared at the screen, his trembling fingers frozen in hesitation.
“If I answer, my life might be in danger. But if I refuse… something even worse could happen. So what should I do?” Rega muttered.
He chose to reject the call. His shaking hand hurriedly tapped the decline button.
Rega exhaled deeply, still struggling to calm himself even as panic gnawed at the edges of his mind.
“Focus, Rega. You can get that book back. Stay calm! You still have a few days left—then hand it over,” he whispered to himself.
Slowly, he forced himself to stand. Each movement was accompanied by pained groans as the wound on his back burned with every step. Cautiously, he began moving, trying to find a way out of the desolate place. He remembered—someone out there was hunting him.
Backup plans began to form in his mind. He needed protection, and quickly. He had to secure his position. He must retrieve the notebook before his “superior” found him first.
But one thing was crystal clear to Rega: there was no room for another mistake. With or without the book, he had to survive amidst the chaos he had unleashed.
At just twenty-five years old, everything had turned into a deadly game of life and death. He knew it all too well. He understood that he stood at a critical crossroad. Only time would tell whether he would escape alive—or die as a victim of his own schemes.
Meanwhile, the sky grew darker. Rain began to fall, at first a light drizzle.
A young man stood calmly beneath a large umbrella, taking shelter under the awning of a tall building.
The black tailored suit he wore clung perfectly to his frame, radiating both elegance and danger.
Expensive leather gloves shielded his hands from the cold night air. He gripped his smartphone tightly, its glowing screen showing the contact he had been trying to reach.
Unfortunately, despite several attempts, there had been no answer.
“Did he die in that damn abandoned building, along with the girl he claimed to be his pawn?” he murmured.
Finally, he ended the call, having received no response.
With a heavy sigh, the suited young man’s eyes sharpened like a hawk, scanning his surroundings with unwavering vigilance.
Around him, several heavily armed bodyguards stood tall, shielding him from all possible threats. Their alert gazes swept the area—loyal shadows ready to sacrifice themselves for their master.
From a nearby alley cloaked in darkness, a shadow emerged.
A man stepped out of the gloom.
He exuded an air of mystery, his face concealed beneath a mask and hood. Only his sharp eyes, faintly visible under the dim streetlight, betrayed his presence.
When he spoke, his voice was low but clear, like a whisper carried on the wind—one that brought ill tidings.
“Sir, you must return. The Grand Master is waiting for you.” His words nearly drowned beneath the sound of the rain, which was now falling harder.
Delivering his short message, the hooded man slipped back into the darkness, vanishing down the narrow alley, leaving only a trail of mystery in his wake.
He was like a shadow that lingered only long enough to deliver a warning before disappearing into the night.
The young man in the suit gazed toward the alley, his expression thoughtful. He knew the risk of angering the “Grand Master” mentioned by the hooded messenger.
“Prepare the car. We leave now, before Father gets angry,” he ordered firmly.
His guards moved instantly, preparing the luxury car parked nearby.
The low rumble of the engine filled the night as they readied to depart.
The suited young man stepped inside.
As the car doors closed, the rain suddenly poured harder, as if determined to wash away their tracks from the empty streets.
The faint city lights reflected off puddles scattered along the cracked, neglected roads. Tonight, the city bore silent witness to the web of deceit unfolding beneath the curtain of heavy rain.
The luxury car sped up, slicing through the night, leaving behind the growl of its engine and sprays of water.
Inside, the young man sat calmly, occasionally drawing on his cigar as he mapped out his next move.
He had already woven countless strategies. Tonight, yet another was being forged.
With his wealth and power, he was more determined than ever to achieve his goals.
The car raced on, following the ruined streets lit only by faint streetlamps. The rain hammered down, as if escorting them on their journey.
But within the storm, a fire burned fiercely in the young man’s chest. He clung to one belief—that he would soon achieve his objective.
Tonight, beneath the blackened sky and the relentless downpour, a tale of intrigue and betrayal unfolded.
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and then Add to home screen.