Somewhere in the villa, Zen stood near the large window of the mansion’s private study, his posture relaxed but his presence heavy. The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, painting the room in streaks of orange and shadow. Behind him, his grandfather’s heavy footsteps echoed against the polished marble floor as he entered the room, the door shutting with a soft but deliberate click. The older man’s face was pale, a storm raging behind his eyes. He stopped a few paces away, glaring at Zen’s back, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he gripped the edge of his cane. “Zen.” His voice was firm, laced with an edge of disbelief. “Turn around.” Zen didn’t move immediately. For a moment, silence hung between them like a drawn-out breath. Then, slowly, he turned, his gaze calm, unbothered, as though nothing had just happened. “Grandfather.” The older man’s jaw tightened. He stepped closer, his cane striking the floor with an audible *thud*. “Don’t ‘Grandfathe

In a cabin somewhere in the city, Zen sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the sprawling forest beyond. The cabin, a place he'd visited many times as a child, was now a silent witness to his inner turmoil. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside him—angry winds howling through the trees, heavy rain pounding against the roof.He couldn’t stop thinking about what had transpired earlier—his reveal, the faces of the Big Four, and the look in Malia’s eyes as she realized he was more than just her ex-husband’s shadow. A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts.“Chief?” It was Keisha’s voice. “Mind if I come in?”Zen didn’t answer immediately. He wasn’t sure if he wanted anyone to see him like this. But after a long pause, he stood up and opened the door.Keisha stepped inside, her presence warm and grounded, the opposite of what Zen felt. She looked at him, her eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”Zen shook his head. “No.”Keisha studied him for a moment. “I figured as much.

The news came on, cutting through the quiet hum of the room. Zen sat at the edge of his seat, the coffee cup in his hand warm but untouched. Suddenly, “How crazy is it! The president of Mega has finally been revealed,” a voice from the TV echoed through the café.Zen’s grip tightened on the cup. His face remained blank. The anchor’s voice filled the room, recounting events that had unraveled. He didn’t wait to hear the rest. The ceramic cup slipped from his fingers, shattering as it hit the floor. Zen stood abruptly, ignoring the mess as he made his way toward the door.Before he could reach it, the door swung open, and an older man stumbled inside, clutching his chest. He hit the ground with a thud, gasping for air.Zen stopped, his jaw tightening.A girl knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she tried to steady him. Her wide, desperate eyes darted toward Zen.“Please,” she said, her voice shaking. “Please, help him.”Zen’s gaze flicked to her, then back to the man on the fl

Zen’s gaze flicked between Diane and her father. “Let’s clear one thing up,” he said, his tone sharp enough to cut through the tension. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”Diane frowned, crossing her arms. “You don’t know that. You weren’t there.”“I don’t need to be,” Zen replied. “Whatever’s happening at that warehouse, it’s not supernatural. People like to blame what they don’t understand on ghosts or curses. It’s easier than finding the real cause.”The old man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Still, strange things happen there. Things I can’t explain.”Zen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then I’ll look into it.”Diane raised an eyebrow. “You will?”“Yes. But I’ll need full cooperation from both of you. No hiding details, no dodging questions.”The old man nodded hesitantly. “Of course. Anything you need.”Zen reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small piece of folded paper. He handed it to Diane without a word.“What’s this?” she asked, unfolding it.“I

The air outside the warehouse was cold, carrying a metallic scent that hinted at rust and decay. Zen stepped out of his car, his sharp gaze scanning the deserted lot. The faint hum of machinery echoed from within the towering structure ahead of him, and despite its eerie stillness, he knew the place wasn’t empty.He pushed the car door shut, his boots crunching against the gravel as he approached the entrance. Diane’s words had been clear: “That place is haunted. Everyone who works there gets sick. It’s not right.” Haunted wasn’t the word Zen would use, but he couldn’t shake the suspicion that there was more to this than superstition.“Tom?”He stopped in his tracks at the sound of his alias, his body instantly alert. Turning, he saw her—Rosalia, stepping out from behind a rusted metal container. Her dark hair was loosely tied back, and her expression was one of both surprise and curiosity.“Rosalia,” he said, the tension easing from his shoulders. “What are you doing here?”“I could