The landlord — Mr. Whitfield, gulped hard, because what Ryan was telling him was the truth. If the men returned, they would not hesitate to hurt him badly, maybe worse. So he nodded, and without another word of protest, decided to follow. They arrived at a large hotel, its glass front lit up warm against the darkening sky. Ryan checked him in without hesitation and led him up to a spacious room they booked. The old man stepped inside and stopped, turning slowly to take it all in — the wide bed, the polished floors, the soft lighting. He swirled around once, admiring the space."You like it?" Ryan asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.The old man nodded, still looking around. "It's good. So good." Then his face fell, the brief relief draining away as reality settled back in. "But how am I going to go back and claim my house again?""I'll look for a way," Ryan said simply. Then, after a pause, he asked the question that had been sitting on his mind since the th

Meanwhile, Marcus stood beside Julia at the grand entrance of her new residence, watching the disbelief written across her face. The Senate President had not only publicly endorsed her work but had also gifted her a mansion in Hera Estate, the most prestigious residential district in the entire city. It was a place where billionaires, award-winning celebrities, influential politicians, and business magnates lived behind layers of elite security. Ordinary people could only dream of entering its gates.The mansion before them was enormous, rising three stories high with elegant white stone walls, towering glass windows, and a roof designed with luxurious European architecture. A long paved driveway stretched from the entrance gate to the front steps, lined on both sides with colorful flower beds blooming with roses, lilies, tulips, and lavender. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze while decorative fountains sent crystal-clear water dancing into the air. Even from the outside, the m

Six slowly stepped backward, his sharp eyes never leaving Marcus for even a second. A confident smirk spread across his face as he reached behind his waist and drew out two short knives. The blades were only slightly longer than his palm, but they were polished to perfection, reflecting a deadly silver glow. Just as Natalie had warned, the cultivator had indeed come prepared with weapons. He casually spun both knives between his fingers before pointing one toward Marcus. "Let's make this quick. I don't have all day to waste on you." The moment he finished speaking, a deep blue aura burst out from his body and rushed into the knives. Both blades immediately lit up with an eerie blue glow, humming with power as the surrounding air trembled slightly under the pressure. Marcus narrowed his eyes but remained calm. He tightened his grip on the sword Natalie had given him and slowly circulated the energy inside his body. At once, the bracelet around his wrist began shining again. Three

Marcus stood silently beside Six's lifeless body for several moments. His eyes remained fixed on the corpse as he let out a slow sigh. Although he had won the battle, there wasn't the satisfaction he had expected. He had hoped to learn who was truly pulling the strings behind everything. Instead, Six had taken that secret with him to the grave. Marcus shook his head lightly. "It doesn't matter," he muttered. "It's only a matter of time before I find out." He bent down, pulled his sword free from Six's head, and wiped the blood from the blade with a torn piece of cloth lying nearby. After returning the sword to its sheath, he turned around and walked deeper into the abandoned factory. He left Six's body where it lay. Sooner or later, whoever worked with him would come looking for him. It didn't take Marcus long to find the elderly woman. She was tied tightly to a metal chair inside a small storage room, her hands and feet bound with thick ropes. The moment she saw Marcu

Ryan and Mr. Whitfield remained frozen as they watched the red sedan disappear into the darkness. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Mr. Whitfield was the first to break the silence. He rubbed his forehead repeatedly before saying, "What the heck did we just watch? That man... he looked exactly like Mr. Eden." Ryan's eyes remained fixed on the monitor. "I don't understand it either," he admitted. "But one thing is certain. Something terrible happened inside that house." Ryan skipped to the following day. Most of the footage showed nothing unusual. Until night fell. Ryan suddenly leaned forward. "The car..." The same red sedan slowly appeared once again. It stopped in exactly the same position as the previous night. The identical man stepped out calmly and walked into Mr. Eden's house. Several minutes later, he emerged again. This time, he was dragging a large traveling bag behind him. He struggled slightly with its weight before opening the trunk and forcing the ba