Zed staggered down the dimly lit street, each step more agonizing than the last. His body swayed like a leaf in the wind, barely held upright by sheer willpower. One hand clutched his right side, pressing tightly against his ribs, where blood gushed in a steady stream, soaking through his shirt and trailing down his leg. Crimson dripped onto the pavement, painting a gruesome trail that stained the street behind him. He had been walking for several minutes—maybe longer—though time had lost meaning. Not a single vehicle passed by, not a soul in sight. The silence of the city was unnerving, heavy, as if the world itself had turned its back on him.Still, Zed pressed on, driven by the dim flicker of survival that remained within him. After what felt like an eternity, the familiar sight of his estate emerged through the haze of his blurred vision. Relief flickered in his chest, quickly replaced by the searing pain that shot through his entire body. He kept moving, step after agonizing step

"The police can't save me. I'm alone in this," Zed bellowed, lifting his glass of juice and taking a slow sip.Kimberly stood silently after hearing his words. She was completely speechless. The weight of what he said sank deep into her chest. She could sense the tension in Zed’s voice… and more than that, she could tell how frightened he truly was. This wasn’t just some casual issue. This was a matter of life and death.It felt as though Zed had been dragged into a war—one where he had no soldiers, no allies, and no safe retreat. He was facing it all on his own.Zed continued eating for a few minutes in silence. The clinking of the cutlery on his plate was the only sound in the room. When he finally felt satisfied, he took another sip of juice and then rose to his feet with the help of his cane."I'll be leaving now," Zed announced, pushing the chair back gently.He turned slightly to face Kimberly, his expression firm and commanding."Make sure to keep the doors locked and stay indo

Mr. Anderson sat down quietly in his neatly arranged office, the soft ticking of the antique wall clock the only sound that accompanied his keystrokes. He was busy typing away on his computer, his fingers gliding smoothly across the keyboard with precise rhythm. The glare from the screen reflected faintly off his square-framed glasses, his eyes focused and his expression cold, as always. Outside his window, the overcast sky painted everything in shades of gray, mirroring the aura of the man behind the desk.As he continued working, a small notification popped up in the corner of his screen. It was an email—one he had been waiting for all day. The sender’s name glared at him like a challenge: Zed Zimmerman.Mr. Anderson's fingers froze mid-typing. His lips curled into a faint smile, subtle yet rare, softening his otherwise fierce expression. He moved swiftly, clicking the notification to open the message. His heart pulsed slightly faster—not out of excitement, but because he was cert

Sparrow pulled open the door of the black van and gestured for Zed to step inside. Zed hesitated for a few moments, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to assess the situation, before finally stepping in. The instant his feet touched the floor of the van, Sparrow slammed the door shut and locked it with a decisive click. Without wasting a second, he made his way to the driver's seat, slid in, started the engine, and drove off without delay.The van rolled through the bustling streets of the city, weaving between honking cars and hurried pedestrians. The city buzzed with life—honking horns, distant sirens, and the occasional call from a street vendor. But the longer they drove, the more that vibrant chaos faded away. After what felt like forever, the van left the crowded streets and ventured into a much more desolate area.Zed couldn’t see a thing from where he sat. The windows were tightly covered with thick black curtains, blocking out any view of the outside world. Yet, despite the

"Alright. I'll give you the ship you want," Zed remarked audibly, his gaze fixed intently on Mr. Anderson.A sinister grin crept onto Mr. Anderson’s face as he took a long, slow drag from his cigarette, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke through his nostrils and mouth."You know, this could have gone a lot easier. If you had accepted the deal earlier, we wouldn’t have gone through so much stress," he bellowed, smoke curling from his lips with every word. "I’m the type of man who hates stress. I get everything I want without going through unnecessary effort—without even breaking a sweat. But you stressed me out, and for that... you must pay."Zed said nothing. He simply watched and listened, his face unreadable."For causing me this trouble, you won’t be getting a single penny from me. The support I promised earlier is off the table. You won’t receive any funds… and you certainly won’t be paid after the ship is completed," Mr. Anderson articulated coldly.Upon hearing those words, Zed