As the sun began to rise, casting a pale light through the window, Regan made a decision. He wouldn’t let Alfred win. He wouldn’t let his father’s sacrifice be in vain. He would gather his strength, he would regroup his team, and he would finish what he had started. He would hunt down Alfred, bring him to justice, and finally put an end to this nightmare. The sterile white walls of the intensive care unit seemed to amplify the deafening silence, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the soft hiss of the oxygen tank. Regan sat beside his father's bed, his gaze fixed on David's pale, motionless form. David lay unconscious, a network of tubes and wires connecting him to life-sustaining machines. His chest rose and fell mechanically, a fragile imitation of life.The rage that simmered inside Regan threatened to consume him. It was a cold, burning fury, fueled by grief, guilt, and a relentless desire for revenge. He looked at his father, the man who had always been

Regan made his way to his grandfather's chambers, a sense of purpose hardening his resolve. The brief respite with his friends had been a welcome distraction, but the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders. He needed to understand the past, to unravel the tangled web of family history that had led to this moment.He found Mr. Roger seated in his favorite armchair, a worn leather album resting on his lap. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air, casting a warm glow on the aged photographs.Mr. Roger looked up as Regan entered, a sad smile gracing his lips. "Come in, Regan. I was just…reminiscing."Regan approached cautiously, sensing the somber mood that permeated the room. He sat down beside his grandfather, his gaze drawn to the album."What are you looking at, Grandpa?" Regan asked softly, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.Mr. Roger sighed, his fingers gently tracing the edges of a faded photograph. "Just some ol

Mr. Roger greeted him with a warm embrace, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "Zuke, my old friend," he said, his voice filled with affection. "It's good to see you."Zuke nodded curtly, his gaze sweeping across the safe house. "Roger," he replied, his voice deep and gravelly. "Good to be here."Mr. Roger turned to Regan, his expression filled with pride. "Regan, this is Zuke. He's the best there is."Regan stepped forward, extending his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, sir," he said, his voice respectful. "I've heard a lot about you."Zuke grasped Regan's hand, his grip like a vise. "I know who you are, Regan," he said, his eyes boring into Regan's. "I know what you've been through. I know what you want."He released Regan's hand, his expression hardening. "I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to make you a weapon. Are you ready for that?"Regan met Zuke's gaze, his jaw clenching with determination. "I was born ready," he replied, his voice unwavering.And so, the training began. F

He pulled out another document from his bag, a detailed proposal outlining his strategy. He explained how they could use a shell company to make the offer, how they could negotiate the price, how they could avoid raising Alfred’s suspicions.As Jeff spoke, Regan listened intently, his mind racing, analyzing every detail, anticipating every potential problem. He knew that this was a risky undertaking, but he was confident that they could pull it off. They were smart, they were resourceful, and they were united in their goal. He had a personal vendetta now, and he wouldn't let anything stand in his way."There's one more thing," Jeff said, his voice becoming serious. "We're not the only ones who are interested in buying the restaurant."Regan's eyebrows furrowed, his expression questioning. "What do you mean?""There's another buyer," Jeff explained. "Someone who's also trying to get their hands on the restaurant. I don't know who they are, or what they want, but they're definitely a th

They strolled through the garden, the fresh air filling their lungs. Zuke spoke of his own experiences with loss, of the importance of remaining strong, of never giving up hope.As they walked, Zuke suddenly stopped, his expression serious. “My work here is done, Regan,” he said, his voice firm. “You have learned everything I can teach you. It is time for me to return home.”Regan felt a pang of sadness. He had grown to respect Zuke, to value his wisdom and his guidance.“Thank you, Zuke,” Regan said, his voice sincere. “For everything. You’ve changed my life.”Zuke nodded, his eyes meeting Regan’s. “You had the potential all along, Regan,” he said. “I merely helped you to unlock it.”He paused, his expression thoughtful. “When I was a student, my master, bestowed a very priceless possession on me , a possession that was priceless and had been kept for generation and told me only to give it to a student of mine that shows worthy. You are that student Regan.”Zuke reached into his bag