Morning in the Bernadus family home usually began with the sound of the coffee machine, servants’ footsteps in the corridor, and the sound of car doors being opened by drivers before the hosts finished breakfast. But that morning, the sound that woke the back area did not come from the kitchen, but from a long bark that sounded far too strong for a yard where two old dogs usually only slept. Mira, the head maid who had worked in the house for nearly fifteen years, stopped in front of the linen cabinet. She knew the voices of the Bernadus family’s two old German Shepherds, Raga and Bima, better than some family members knew their own illnesses. “Since when have they barked like that?” one of the young maids whispered. Mira did not answer immediately. She walked to the back window, moved the curtain slightly, then her eyes widened when she saw the two dogs running around the small yard with steps fa

Raga and Bima ran across the Bernadus family’s backyard like two young guards newly released from a training kennel. The grass they had stepped on weakly the night before was now split by quick strides, while their barking shook a morning that was usually far too orderly in that luxurious house.Amanda came out first with an annoyed face, followed by her father, her mother, Helena, Mira, Andi, and Santo. They all stopped on the back terrace when the two old German Shepherds circled near the fence, then made short jumps with a strength they had not shown for months.“This is impossible,” Amanda said quickly, as if the sentence could turn the two dogs weak again. She looked at Raga and Bima, then turned to Mira. “Did you give them some other medicine?”Mira lowered her head, but her voice remained clear enough. “No, Miss Amanda. Yesterday, they barely touched their food. The veterinarian also said their age no longer gave much hope.”Andi, the gardener who usually cleaned the kennel, no

Helena returned to the dining room with slower steps than when she had gone out. No more sharp commands came from her mouth, only short breaths that she hid behind pride, while Amanda followed from behind with a stiff face.The breakfast table that had been arranged neatly earlier now felt like a stage after a bad performance. Warm bread, sliced fruit, and expensive coffee could not erase the image of Raga and Bima running strongly after eating the pills Amanda had thrown away.The family doctor arrived twenty minutes later. He was a middle-aged man with a neat coat and an expensive medical bag, used to speaking gently to rich families who wanted illnesses to sound less frightening.He checked Helena’s blood pressure, listened to her breathing, then asked about the discomfort in her chest. His face remained calm, but Peter had mentioned the same things last night in simpler language that cut far deeper.“Madam’s blood pressure is still high,” the doctor said. “The burden on the heart

Peter unfolded the transfer proof beneath the flickering corridor light. The number one hundred and fifty million was printed clearly, and for the first time, the members of the Red Sickle saw that the debtor they had once threatened was standing like someone closing a ledger, not begging for more time. Hector took half a step forward, then stopped when Peter lifted the needle box with a small movement. Dagger, Brock, Vince, and Skull also held their breath, because Peter’s seemingly relaxed hand had once made their bodies lose control in this very corridor. “One hundred and fifty million,” Peter said. “The principal debt, the interest you used to scare me, and the nonsense fees you added to make your faces look expensive.” Hector wanted to shout, but his throat felt as if it had caught on a thorn. The young man behind a neighbor’s door whispered softly, “They kicked his door bef

Goro stood still in the corridor of Apartment 307, with the repayment proof still in his subordinate’s hand. A few minutes ago, he had come as a debt collector, but now every eye saw him weighing something far more expensive than one hundred and fifty million: a chance to stay alive. Hector wanted to speak, but Goro’s gaze made him swallow his voice. The other Red Sickle men were also silent, because they knew their boss well enough to understand that fear was being hidden behind that flat face. “If I sit as a patient,” Goro finally said, “can you really treat me?” Peter did not immediately promise safety. “I can stabilize you tonight and open part of the blockage. I don’t sell a complete cure in one night.” Goro looked at him more sharply. “You are very bold to raise the price after receiving my money.” “I&r