ROCKY - Operation Vengeance

Chapter 4-Humming

“Bring him,” the old man commanded.

The guards obeyed immediately, dragging Rocky toward the mansion’s grand staircase.

“Wait—what—”

He struggled.

“Please—!” he gasped. “I swear, I didn’t mean to crash the party! I won’t come back, just—just let me go—”

Nobody paid him any heed.

Not Elizabeth.

Not Jonathan.

Not Sophia.

His mother-in-law simply scoffed, adjusting the shimmering bracelet on her wrist.

“Useless,” she muttered, not loud enough for everyone to hear. “We never needed him before. We certainly don’t need him now.”

Rocky’s stomach twisted.

The laughter from earlier still rang in his ears.

He lowered his head, swallowing the lump in his throat as the guards hauled him through the lavish halls, up the golden staircases, past countless of rooms.

Then—

A door.

Large. Carved from dark wood.

The library.

One of the guards pushed it open.

Inside, rows of towering bookshelves lined the walls. A massive fireplace crackled dimly in the corner.

The guards shoved Rocky inside.

The door shut behind them with a heavy click.

Silence.

Then—

A voice.

“Leave us.”

The security hesitated. “Sir—”

“I said leave.”

A brief pause.

Then the men bowed slightly before stepping out, closing the door behind them.

Now, they were alone.

Rocky swallowed hard, his pulse hammering in his ears.

The old man took a step forward.

Then another.

Each step slow. Calculated.

Rocky stiffened.

His breath hitched.

His mind screamed at him to move,to run—

But his legs refused.

The old man reached into his coat pocket.

Rocky saw the movement.

And panicked.

He dropped to his knees.

Trembling.

His hands pressed together, forehead touching the floor.

Tears pricked his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m sorry, I swear—please—don’t kill me—”

A pause.

Then—

A quiet chuckle.

“Kill you?”

The old man knelt slowly.

Close.

Too close.

His breath ghosted over Rocky’s shaking form.

Then, gently—almost reverently—he placed a wrinkled, trembling hand on Rocky’s head.

“Young Master…” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Rocky stiffened.

Where… had he heard that before?

The old man’s grip tightened, his fingers trembling.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

Rocky’s mind reeled.

The old man’s breathing turned shaky, almost desperate.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. “Forgive me for allowing you to pass through this.”

Rocky’s heart pounded.

What was he talking about?

The old man pulled back slightly.

His eyes burned with something fierce.

Something deadly.

His voice dropped.

“Tell me…” he said. “Who made you go through hell?”

Rocky swallowed.

The air felt… wrong.

Thick. Suffocating.

The old man leaned in.

“I will summon the Seven Demon Army to destroy them all.”

Rocky’s breath hitched.

The old man’s expression darkened.

“I will start World War 4 if I must.”

Rocky blinked.

What. The. Hell?

He had officially lost his mind.

Rocky’s breath shuddered.

His mind spun.

World War 4? Seven Demon Army?

What the hell was happening?

His pulse pounded as he slowly lifted his head.

There had to be a mistake.

This old man… whoever he was…

He was confusing him for someone else.

“I—I think you’ve got the wrong guy,” Rocky rasped, voice unsteady.

The old man didn’t even blink.

“I make no mistakes.”

His tone was calm. Certain.

Rocky’s stomach twisted.

A sudden rustling made him flinch.

The old man moved toward a corner of the library, where a large, covered cage sat hidden in the shadows.

With one swift motion, he pulled the cloth away.

A wild eagle sat inside.

Large. Powerful.

Its dark eyes burned with untamed fury as it ruffled its feathers aggressively, wings partially spread.

Rocky froze.

His throat tightened.

The bird looked dangerous.

Unpredictable.

The old man placed a hand on the cage.

“If you are who I seek,” he said evenly, “this creature will not harm you.”

Rocky’s blood ran cold.

“And if I’m not?” he asked, dread creeping up his spine.

The old man’s gaze darkened.

“Then it will attack.”

A chill settled deep in Rocky’s bones.

He took a step back, shaking his head.

“No. No way. That thing is dangerous!”

The old man said nothing.

Then—

Click.

Rocky’s heart lurched.

The cage door swung open.

The eagle burst forward.

Rocky’s breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, it didn’t move.

It just stared at him.

Its piercing eyes locked onto his.

Rocky barely breathed.

Seconds stretched.

Then—

A blur of motion.

The eagle ambushed him.

A sharp cry tore from Rocky’s throat as razor-sharp talons raked across his forearm.

Pain exploded.

Blood.

He staggered back, gripping his arm as red dripped between his fingers.

The eagle flapped wildly before retreating back to its perch.

Rocky gasped, stumbling away.

It hurt.

So damn much.

The old man exhaled, looking down.

His expression unreadable.

A long silence stretched.

Finally, he spoke.

“…You have the resemblance.”

His voice was quiet.

“But you are not him.”

Something in Rocky’s chest clenched.

A deep, unsettling feeling.

The old man closed his eyes for a brief moment.

Then, without hesitation, he reached into his coat and pulled out a thick bundle of cash.

A lot of cash.

He didn’t even count it.

He simply shoved it into Rocky’s hand.

“Take this.” His tone was curt now. “Get yourself treated.”

Rocky stared, stunned.

The weight of the money was heavy.

He had never held this much before.

“I… What—?”

“I’m sorry,” the old man said firmly. “For mistaking you.”

Rocky swallowed, still gripping his bleeding arm.

His thoughts were a mess.

He took a shaky breath and nodded.

“Well… I hope you find who you’re looking for.” His voice was hoarse.

He hesitated, then asked—

“Why are you so keen on finding him?”

The old man’s face darkened.

His fingers twitched.

Then, with a sharp edge to his voice—

“Just leave.”

Rocky flinched.

That tone—

He knew better than to push further.

Without another word, he turned and left, the door closing behind him.

Rocky’s footsteps were unsteady as he made his way down the grand hall.

His arm burned.

The thick bundle of cash sat heavy in his pocket.

His mind was still reeling.

What the hell had just happened?

He didn’t belong here. He never had.

And yet—

That old man…

That damn eagle…

Rocky shook his head, exhaling sharply.

No.

He needed to get out of here.

Fast.

The entrance doors loomed ahead.

Almost there.

He reached for the handle—

Then—

A presence.

Someone was coming in.

Rocky stepped aside just as the heavy doors swung open.

A man entered.

Tall. Broad-shouldered.

Dressed in a fitted designer suit.

His beard was neatly trimmed, his plaited hair slicked back.

Gold rings gleamed on his fingers.

A scent of expensive cologne followed him.

Rocky barely got a second glance.

Ignored.

Brushed past like air.

He expected that.

Rich men like him never noticed people like Rocky.

But then—

A sound.

A voice.

The man had an earpiece in.

And he was humming.

Soft.

Casual.

But Rocky’s body froze.

His breath caught.

That voice—

He knew that voice.

His stomach turned ice-cold.

Because it sounded exactly like the one from his visions.