Katarina turned around, it was Collin who came straight to Katarina quickly and snatched the drugs out of Katarina's hands. "What are you doing?" the man asked, just enough to make Katarina sigh tiredly.Though there was only a little more .... to go"You're trying to cause trouble with Silas again?" asked Collin, he looked furious but still tried to contain it. "What exactly are you thinking, Katarina? Please leave Silas alone, let him calm down!""Can you feel at ease if the real villain is still roaming around Thenma?" Katarina asked back, leaving Collin with a look of astonishment. Katarina returned Collin's gaze boldly, then she took the drugs back from Collin's hand. "I'm trying to find the real culprit, Doctor, I don't suspect Silas alone and I've searched every room in this house. And do you see what I'm holding? These are the drugs you checked when Adie bought them from outside, the ones that replaced the fake ones you used!"Collin gave Katarina a sharp look, seemingly unabl

Somewhere deep beneath Blostom’s rotting heart, far below the streetlights and laughter, Joey Douglas sat chained to a chair that groaned with every shallow breath he took.The room around him was a tomb — low, damp, stinking of mildew and old rust. A single bulb swung from the ceiling, its weak light carving sharp shadows across cracked concrete walls.Joey’s face was barely recognizable anymore.One eye swollen shut. Blood dried in a crust along his temple. His lower lip split open so deep he tasted iron every time he moved.He slumped forward, wrists cuffed so tightly his hands had turned a sickly color beneath the shackles. Every small movement sent jolts of pain up his arms, but worse was the steady, gnawing ache in his ribs — cracked, maybe broken — from the last time one of the men had decided to remind him of his place.And they were still here.Three of them, standing just beyond the thin halo of light, their faces blurred by shadow and menace.Watching him. Waiting.Like gri

Rain hammered the streets of Blostom as if trying to wash the city clean — but nothing could cleanse what lurked in the alleys and shadows.Thenma stood at the edge of the hospital’s deserted parking structure, staring out into the wet night.His jacket clung damply to his frame, the bloodstains blending with rainwater until they were indistinguishable.[Reve: Optimal Route to Central Terminal Calculated. Risk Assessment: 81% Hostile Encounter Probability.]Thenma ignored the warning.He already knew it wasn’t going to be easy.Nothing worth surviving ever was.A faint buzz rattled in his ear — the commlink connecting him to Collin."You sure about this, boss?" Collin’s voice crackled over the line."You're walking into a setup. You know that, right?""I don’t have a choice," Thenma muttered, sliding a fresh magazine into his sidearm and checking the safety. "Joey's alive. Or someone wants us to think he is."Silence.Then, quieter:"Katarina wants to come."Thenma’s hand froze mid-ch

The minutes dragged like leaden weights in the frozen dark, each second hammering against Thenma’s nerves.The silence around them felt unnatural — too still, too hollow — as if the East Yard itself had been emptied of life, leaving only the scent of rust and death behind.Beside him, Joey Douglas slipped further into unconsciousness. His breaths were shallow now, rattling like broken glass in his chest. Blood darkened the torn fabric at his ribs, stark against the pale glint of streetlight slicing through the gaps between containers.[Reve: Immediate stabilization required. Risk of organ failure at 73%.]"Hold on," Thenma muttered under his breath, wiping a slick of cold sweat from his brow. His mind raced.Collin was fast, but even he couldn’t perform miracles if they were pinned down before extraction.They needed to move — or disappear.The blinking fragment of Lily's image burned in the corner of his vision.It wasn’t just random.It was a message.Or a warning.Thenma gritted hi

Atop the Highlife Tower, where the city lights dulled into a distant, worthless smear against the smoked glass, Edward Montgomery stood at the head of a polished mahogany table, his reflection warped and twisted across its surface. The conference room was silent but for the faint hum of machinery hidden in the walls — state-of-the-art security, bulletproof windows, a fortress disguised as opulence.The men seated around him were not businessmen. Not truly. They wore suits, yes, and silk ties, and watches that cost more than a middle-class salary, but beneath the fabric, they were wolves. Predators with polished smiles and bloodstained hands.Edward let the silence stretch, savoring the discomfort it bred.Fear was a useful seasoning. It made men pliable.Finally, he spoke, voice calm, measured — almost amused."Joey Douglas..." He drew out the name as if tasting it, savoring the bitterness. "A minor inconvenience, but one that required addressing."A murmur rippled through the room, n