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“Everyone out,” John repeated.

Chris blinked. “Father—? But—”

John’s voice hardened.

“Everyone. Including you, Chris. Leave the room immediately.”

The room went still.

Chris hesitated — confused — hurt — clearly reluctant to go.

“Father… why? Ethan just—”

John didn’t look at him. His gaze never left Ethan.

“Because,” he said, voice low, unyielding.

“I have something to tell Ethan. And it must be said to him alone.”

For a moment, Chris stood frozen — torn between obedience and concern — until the guards moved beside him, making it clear the order was not optional. He was forced to leave.

He swallowed, shaken.

He glanced at Ethan — uncertain — searching his face.

Ethan gave a small nod.

“It’s all right,” he said calmly.

Chris lingered a heartbeat longer… then bowed his head.

“Very well.”

He turned — guiding the guards and Morrison out.

The door closed.

Silence fell.

Only Ethan and John remained.

John exhaled slowly.

His expression darkened.

And when he finally spoke…

His voice carried w
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  • 300

    Ethan’s heart skipped. “Something important?” “Yes,” she whispered, “and it can’t wait.”Ethan felt a chill run down his spine. “Elsa… what is it? You can tell me.”There was a long pause. Then, her voice came, barely above a whisper. “Ethan… the Watson family,” she said. “They found out. They know you are linked to Nova.”Ethan said nothing.He stood in the dark road.His hand froze around the phone.His eyes grew cold.“…They know?” he asked at last, his voice low.“Yes,” Elsa replied. “They know.”“How?” Ethan asked. “How did they find out?”Elsa was quiet for a moment.“I… don’t know,” she said. “I checked the files. I checked the staff. I checked every call. There is no trail. But… they know. I am sure.”Ethan let out a slow breath.“I see,” he said softly.Elsa bit her lip.“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried to hide it. I tried to cover it. But the Watson family… they are watching us. They sent men. They asked questions.”Ethan stayed silent.The night wind passed over him.

  • 299

    Ethan walked down the quiet road. The night air was cold, but his mind was steady. He thought about Norwish City… his past… and the long path ahead.His phone buzzed in his pocket.He stopped and took it out.A message.It was from John Hadel.Ethan opened it.A short text.“This is the contact of the acting commander of the Storm Group. You will need him.”Below it was a name and a number.Ethan’s eyes softened.He let out a slow breath.Then he typed back a reply.“Thank you.”He stood still for a moment, looking at the screen.Then he pressed the call button.The phone rang.Once.Twice.Then a rough, cautious voice answered.“Hello? Who is this?”Ethan spoke calmly.“My name is Ethan Storm.”There was silence on the line.No sound.Not even breathing.Then the man spoke again, but his voice shook.“…Storm…? Did you say Storm?”“Yes,” Ethan said. “I am the last one.”A sharp gasp came through the phone.“I… I thought the Storm family was gone,” the man said quietly. “I thought ther

  • 298

    A long breath escaped John’s lips — something between shock and admiration. For a moment, he simply looked at Ethan, his gaze deep, thoughtful… and filled with something rare. Respect. Finally, he let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “My God,” he murmured. “You… truly are your ancestors’ heir.” He shook his head slowly — not in disapproval, but in wonder. “To think… strategy of that scale… foresight of that depth… at your age…” His voice softened — almost reverent. “You are a genius, Ethan Storm.” Ethan didn’t smile. He simply bowed his head slightly. “I’m not a genius,” he replied quietly. “I’m just someone who refuses to let the world fall.” John’s gaze warmed. “That,” he said gently, “is exactly what makes you one.”Ethan lingered for a moment, watching John settle back into the pillows, his breaths slow and steady. “I… have a lot to do,” Ethan said finally, his voice calm but purposeful. “Preparations. Plans. I should leave you to rest for now, but I’ll remain in cont

  • 297

    Ethan nodded slowly. “I know. That’s why I won’t fight them as a Knight.” A faint spark of stormlight pulsed beneath his skin. “This strike won’t be righteous,” he continued coldly. “It will be surgical. The Watsons believe themselves untouchable because they operate in shadows — hidden deals, hidden creatures, hidden masters. I’ll expose them… not to the world — not yet — but to their own foundation.”John’s brows tightened in confusion at Ethan’s last words. “Expose them… to their own foundation?” he echoed. “What do you mean?”Ethan’s gaze sharpened.“I won’t charge at the Watsons with swords or declarations,” he said quietly. “That’s what they expect. Demons thrive in chaos — they’re prepared for open confrontation. But what they cannot withstand… is controlled collapse.”John watched him closely.Ethan continued.“I’m going to rebuild what the Storms lost,” he said. “Not just a house… not just a banner… but an organization — one that strikes from the shadows just as they do. B

  • 296

    But then — He straightened. His expression sharpened. And a cold, focused determination settled into his gaze. “…Good,” he said softly. John raised a brow. “Good?” Ethan’s lips curved into a faint, hard smile. “It means they built something,” he said calmly. “And anything that’s built…” Lightning flickered behind his eyes. “…can be dismantled.” John stared at him — a shadow of awe passing through his expression. Ethan’s voice turned low, steady, resolute. “I won’t rush in blindly,” he said. “If they’re everywhere now — business, crime, government — then striking directly will only alert them.” He crossed his arms. “I will take them apart slowly. Quietly. Piece by piece.” His thoughts sharpened like blades. Break the crime networks first. Expose the financial channels. Undermine the political puppets. “And while I tear down their influence…” Ethan continued, voice hardening… “…I will search for my family.”Ethan’s eyes hardened as the realization settled.“The Watso

  • 295

    Ethan finally understood.The truth did not descend on him like a single blow — it settled slowly, layer by layer, until the full weight of it pressed against his chest.Everything… the fall of the Storms… the shattered legacy… the scars of his childhood…None of it had been coincidence.None of it had been fate.It had been orchestrated.“It was them,” Ethan murmured, voice low, steady, but trembling beneath the surface. “The evil forces. The demons… and the families who serve them.”John nodded solemnly.“Yes,” he said quietly. “Every tragedy that befell your house… every disaster that seemed random… every disappearance…” His eyes dimmed. “They were all connected.”Ethan drew in a slow breath.A memory flashed through him —Smoke.Screams.His mother’s voice calling his name in the darkness.His fists tightened.“My parents,” he said, barely above a whisper. “Where are they? Do you know?”John’s gaze softened — sorrow, regret, and uncertainty swirling inside it.“…No,” he admitted.

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