The rain over the old docks of Sector Nine gradually faded, leaving behind cold steam rising from asphalt that had just been drenched in blood. The metallic scent of copper stung the air, mingling with the diesel fumes of rusting ships. Standing amid the crimson puddles, Eduardo remained perfectly upright. His ivory suit was no longer white. Large red stains covered the chest and sleeves, as though he had painted an abstract masterpiece using other people's lives. His pitch-black eyes, devoid of pupils or irises, stared flatly at the last two mercenaries still standing. They trembled uncontrollably. Their knees knocked together while the assault rifles in their hands felt like plastic toys in the presence of death itself. "P-please... we were just hired..." one of them whimpered, his voice cracking under the weight of terror. Eduardo didn't respond. Within his vision, the system was conducting its final calculations. [TARGET IDENTIFIED: HOSTILE MERCENAR

The lights in the secret delivery room flickered softly, casting a cold neon glow over Freya's sweat-soaked body. The sharp scent of antiseptic mingled with the warm metallic smell of childbirth blood.In the oppressive silence, only the cries of a newborn pierced the air. It was a sound that should have brought happiness, yet in this underground bunker, it sounded more like the announcement of a new war.Eduardo stood motionless beside the bed.His black leather-gloved hands supported the tiny body wrapped in white silk. His pitch-black eyes, now completely devoid of any trace of white, stared at the infant without blinking.[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: BIOMETRIC SCAN COMPLETE][SUBJECT: INFANT MALE][GENETIC COMPATIBILITY: 99.99%][HEIR CONFIRMED: VITO][TRANSFER PROTOCOL: INITIALIZED. ESTIMATED ACTIVATION: 20 YEARS]"Ed..."Freya's voice was barely audible, almost like a whisper carried by a storm.She reached toward the edge of Eduardo's suit with trembling fingers."Come here... bring h

Six months had passed since the ruins of Vladimir Villa became the gravestone of the old era. Now, Rome had truly bent the knee beneath the shadow of Sark Tower. Eduardo sat behind his massive black teak desk, surrounded by dozens of monitors displaying port logistics charts stretching from Rotterdam to Marseille. The gold pen in his hand moved with machine-like precision, signing the acquisition documents for the last commercial port in Northern Italy. Yet the white silk shirt he wore felt increasingly loose on his frame. His marble-pale face had grown even gaunter, and the white hair at his temples had spread across nearly his entire head, leaving only a small patch of black at the back. Cough! Cough! Eduardo flinched. He covered his mouth with his left hand, the one that had only four fingers. The cough came from the deepest part of his lungs, burning and stabbing through him like rusted steel thorns. When he pulled his hand away, his pitch-b

The top floor of Sark Tower felt like a coffin made of glass and steel that night. Eduardo sat behind his mahogany desk, its surface now riddled with holes from splashes of his corrosive black blood. In his hand, he held a thin sheet of dried skin, prepared through a horrifying process and covered in elegant gold-ink calligraphy. The scent of embalming chemicals and sharp metallic tang filled his increasingly dulled senses. Across from him, Belerik and Gord stood in silence. Belerik kept adjusting his glasses, while Gord couldn't stop fiddling with the trigger of the light machine gun slung over his shoulder. "Human skin parchment," Eduardo hissed. His voice sounded like two rusted blades scraping against each other. "Classic. Do they really think they're living in the Middle Ages?" "That's not just skin, Ed," Belerik said, his voice trembling. "It belonged to our informant in Paris who disappeared two days ago. The Commission. The five major Godfathers of Euro

Shards of crystal glass lay scattered across the marble floor like a spray of worthless diamonds. Emily was still kneeling, her body trembling so violently that the sound of her teeth chattering echoed through the oppressive silence of the dining room. In front of her, Eduardo stood tall, his shadow stretching across the wall as though death itself had taken the form of a white-haired man. "Ed... just listen to me first..." Emily crawled forward, trying to grab the tip of Eduardo's shoe with hands still wet from the poisoned wine. "They... they forced me! Vanya said if I didn't do it, they'd kidnap Chloe from her dorm! I did it for our daughter, Ed! I swear!" Eduardo stared at Emily's hand. To his pitch-black eyes, her movements seemed slow, layered with lie upon lie. He no longer felt the burning anger he once would have. The pain of betrayal? Gone. The System had already consumed that emotion as the price of his previous power. "Belerik al