Johnson folded his arms and leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes narrowing at Jerry.
"So what happened to your dad, and how did you grow up to be like… this dick you are?"
Jerry raised his brows, clearly offended. "Hey, that's not fair."
Rose chuckled, covering her mouth with a playful laugh. "Hahaha! But you are an interesting person, Jerry."
Jerry sighed, shaking his head in half-serious protest. "Should I continue showing you, or should I allow Alastor to tell you? 'Cause honestly, I can't remember much from that time."
Alastor, who had been silently adjusting his coat, suddenly raised his chin, his face glowing with reverence. "Young master, I can't actually do what you do, sir. Your power is far too great for me to comprehend." His voice carried pure admiration, almost trembling in joy.
Jerry groaned, waving his hand dismissively. "Oh stop that, Alastor. I know you can't do that, but I believe you can if you try."
Mary, who had quietly approached, tilted her head in curiosity. "Do what?"
Jerry's lips curved into a faint smile. "I believe Alastor can show you what happened before I was even born."
Angela frowned slightly, pushing up her glasses. "Why can't you just show us yourself?"
Jerry shrugged helplessly. "Because I don't remember, sorry. And I can't just go poking around, trying to find out."
Alastor straightened his posture, one hand resting on his chest. "Then I will tell them, my lord."
Jerry nodded. "Yeah, do that. I believe you can."
Before Alastor could continue, Rose interrupted with raised brows. "Hold up. We still haven't told each other about our abilities, have we? Shouldn't we start with that?"
Jerry smirked knowingly. "Well, I already know what you all can do… except Angela. So tell me, baby girl, what's your ability?"
Angela adjusted her glasses again, speaking with composed clarity. "Well, as a hybrid of a human and a dryad, I can heal people."
Rose leaned closer, intrigued. "Really? And what's the cost?"
Angela's expression darkened. "I can't heal people without getting injured myself. Either I suffer the damage physically… or I experience the pain mentally. If you had a headache and I healed you, I'd end up with the same headache."
Rose's jaw tightened. "That's crazy… So if I had a deep wound, you'd get the same wound?"
Angela nodded solemnly.
Johnson stepped forward, thoughtful. "Then why don't you just get stronger? You could enroll in De Great Labs. Master Lucian can train you."
Angela blinked in surprise. "Who's Lucian?"
Rose chuckled softly. "Our principal. You don't know him?"
Jerry's tone softened, his words filled with rare admiration. "He's an independent and brilliant scientist. One of the smartest—if not the smartest—people in the world."
Alastor's eyes widened. "Hmmm… For you, my master, to praise a human this highly… It means you value him deeply."
Jerry let out a light laugh. "I value everyone, Alastor. Nobody is beneath another. We are all equal."
Alastor immediately dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Yes, my lord. Your words are wise."
Johnson rolled his eyes. "Dude, ease up. Stop acting like the most loyal dog in the world. Be free for once."
Alastor's expression shifted, his eyes glinting with menace as he turned to Jerry. "Master, should I kill this chattering creature before you?"
Jerry waved his hand, calm but firm. "Nah, don't do that, Alastor. They mean well. Get along with them."
Alastor immediately bowed again. "As you wish, my master."
Jerry rubbed his temples. "Since I can't show them from my memories, why don't I show them through yours?" He looked directly at Alastor.
Mary gasped. "Wait—you can do that?"
Jerry smirked confidently. "Yes. But I'll have to read his memories first, so I can project what I believe I see."
Mary glanced at Alastor, hesitant. "Should he… do that?"
Alastor smiled softly, lowering his head with loyalty burning in his gaze. "My lord may do anything he wishes with my body."
Rose grimaced. "Now you're making this weird."
Alastor blinked innocently. "What? I'm only expressing how much I love my master!"
Jerry let out a tired sigh. "Ugh. Let's just continue with my story."
Rose nodded. "Yeah, go ahead."
With a snap of Jerry's fingers, the scene around them shifted. Light warped, the ground trembled, and suddenly, they found themselves in the neon-lit expanse of Techno City. Skyscrapers gleamed like blades piercing the heavens.
Raymond appeared in the vision, walking toward his father's towering company building, a day before his debt collection. His polished car screeched to a halt at the front gates, catching the attention of onlookers.
"Well, I hope I'm not too late," Raymond muttered, adjusting his suit.
Alastor walked beside him, holding a sleek black briefcase. "Master Raymond, everything is under control."
Raymond entered the building, his tall, handsome figure immediately drawing attention. Female workers whispered and giggled as they watched him stride toward the elevator.
"Who's that fine young man? He looks so handsome!" one worker whispered.
"I don't really know him," another chimed in, her eyes gleaming with desire. "But he's hot. I'm gonna hit on him."
A third worker rolled her eyes. "You girls seriously have nothing to do? Who are you even talking about?"
The first worker pointed. "That guy—look!"
At that moment, Thomas Hart, a janitor mopping the floor, slipped and fell backward, spilling water everywhere. "Ahhh!"
The second worker snorted. "That guy looks rich. I'll marry him!"
"Dream on," the first shot back. "I'm the one most eligible to marry him."
The third raised a brow. "And what exactly makes you eligible?"
The second worker smirked, flipping her hair and flaunting her body. "Can't you see? I'm beautiful and busty. My beauty alone makes me distinguishable."
Just as she finished her boast, soapy water splashed across her expensive dress.
"What the hell!?" she screamed. "My fifty-thousand-dollar dress!"
The first worker burst into laughter at Thomas's clumsy fall.
The third rushed to Thomas's aid, helping him up. "Are you okay, bro?"
The second worker stormed over and slapped Thomas across the face. "Are you mad!? Do you know how much this dress costs? Can your entire generation afford it!?"
Thomas trembled, bowing his head. "Please… I'm sorry. It was a mistake, ma. I promise I won't do it again. I'm just working to save money for my mom's surgery. Please forgive me…"
A calm, firm voice suddenly cut through the noise.
Annabelle stepped forward. "I think you should forgive him. He's done nothing to deserve this treatment."
Stella, the first worker, sneered. "Oh? You seem to like this pathetic excuse of a man, huh? Broke, useless, and poor!"
Annabelle's hand shot across Stella's cheek with a sharp crack. "How dare you! What makes him less than you? He's a human being like the rest of us!"
Stella gasped, holding her swelling face. "At least I'm not broke! Unlike you, I don't follow broke men!" She slapped Annabelle back, and within moments, the second worker—Magret —joined in, ganging up on Annabelle.
Raymond, who had been watching, finally stepped forward. His voice carried sharp authority. "Ladies, ladies. Let's be civil. You're ruining this company's reputation with your shameless behavior—"
Before he could finish, Stella's hand lashed out, striking his cheek.
"How dare you talk to me like that? Do you even know who my father is!?" she screamed.
Raymond's eyes narrowed dangerously. "No. Didn't your mom tell you?"
Stella's face twisted with rage. "Security trash like you aren't fit to be in this building! I wouldn't welcome you even if you were a customer!"
Annabelle quickly stepped between them, bowing apologetically. "I'm so sorry, sir. Please don't be angry. We were only quarreling because they were bullying this young man here." She pointed at Thomas.
Magret, another worker, sneered. "Hah. Finally showing your true colors, Annabelle. Trying to cozy up to a rich man's security. How low can you be?"
Annabelle frowned deeply. "That's not true! I'm only apologizing for her rude behavior!"
Just then, Alastor returned, his aura heavy with restrained fury. "Sir, I am sorry I was late. I went to see the president."
Raymond adjusted his cufflinks. "When?"
"Just now. I thought you were going to meet your uncle, sir?" Alastor asked.
Raymond exhaled slowly. "I was… until I saw this mess. Never mind. Hey, Magret, Stella right?"
Alastor's eyes blazed. "You puny little—" His hands clenched, ready to unleash his wrath.
"Easy, Alastor," Raymond cut him off, his tone calm but firm. "They're just being overreactive. Kick them out of the company later." He turned to Annabelle and Thomas, offering a reassuring smile. "Come on. I've got a gift for you."
The three of them stepped into the elevator, leaving the workers stunned.
When the doors closed, Stella's chest tightened, her eyes glued to Raymond's retreating figure. "Wait… isn't that the security guard you showed me?"
Magret smirked. "No. I was obviously talking about the red-haired guy. He's so hot."
The elevator ascended. In the silence of the CEO's floor, Raymond's steps echoed. He pushed open the office door, his expression cool and unshaken.
"Wait outside, Alastor," he ordered. "Take care of them. This meeting is mine alone to handle."
Alastor bowed deeply. "As you wish, my master."
As Annabelle and Thomas sat nervously outside with Alastor, Raymond strode into the CEO's office, a briefcase of money in his hand. His wavy hair caught the light, and he walked with a composed elegance.
The man behind the desk narrowed his eyes.
Ronald smirked coldly. "You've got some nerves, kid."
The Betrayal Unveiled
The heavy oak doors of the company office creaked open, and a cold silence followed Raymond's steps as he entered. Roland sat behind a polished mahogany desk, his eyes narrowing the moment they fell on the young man.
"You've got some nerves, kid, walking back into this company," Roland sneered, his tone laced with annoyance.
Raymond did not flinch. His gaze was steady as he placed a briefcase on the desk with a dull thud.
"I've come to repay what I owe you, sir. Nothing more."
Roland's greedy eyes glimmered as he snatched the case, snapping it open. Stacks of crisp notes stared back at him, and his lips curled into a smile.
"Where did you get this money?" he asked, his voice tightening with suspicion. "How did you get it?"
Raymond's jaw clenched, but his voice remained calm.
"I worked for it. Every single bill in there was hard-earned, not given."
Roland's fingers trailed over the bundles as if caressing a lover. "Hmm. And where exactly did you work to get this much? Do you think this clears you? You're still owing the president, the state, thirty-five years of tax, the company's interests for all those days you disappeared—" his tone turned sharp, "—and finally, you'll need to pay me for damages."
Raymond raised his head, his eyes unyielding.
"I've already cleared that with the cashier downstairs. While your receptionists were busy assaulting a young cleaner."
Roland froze mid-count, his hand pausing on the money. "And so?"
Raymond's voice sharpened like a blade. "And so I could sue you to court for what I just experienced. You could lose rights to this company."
Roland slammed the case shut, his face darkening. "You dare not! You dare not sue this company, or else—"
Raymond leaned forward, his words like venom. "Else what? You'll kill me? Just like you killed your brother?"
Roland stiffened. His hand trembled. "What… how did you—?"
Raymond's gaze burned with fury and pain. "Just like you killed my father… and took over his company?"
The older man staggered back, shock flashing across his face. "How… how did you know that?"
"I've always known," Raymond said quietly, his voice heavy with restrained rage. "Deep down, I always knew you killed them. I just never wanted to believe it. But tell me now… did you do it?"
A wicked smirk twisted across Roland's lips as he rose from his chair with arrogant pride. "Yes. I killed him. And so what? What are you going to do about it, huh?"
Raymond's fists clenched. He took a step forward, his body trembling with the urge to strike. But he restrained himself, teeth grinding. "How could you do that to my father? To my family? My father took you in, treated you well. He gave your wife a job in this very building. He even trusted you with this company to run. So why? Why did you kill him?"
Roland scoffed, pacing the room like a predator savoring his own sins. "Your father was too nice. Too naïve. He thought he was doing good for me? Ha! I hated that man—every single day. Always creating new technologies, stupid inventions, cars… and always in the spotlight. Why should he always be the one better than me? I was older, yet he was always the one most loved, most favored. Why should he shine, while I lived in his shadow?"
His laughter grew cruel, manic, echoing off the walls. "So I had someone light up his house, burn him alive, and kill his useless family. And when it was done, I—his next of kin—took over this company. Isn't that exhilarating?" He threw his head back, laughing menacingly. "I should have killed you too when I had the chance."
In a flash, Roland drew a gun, his eyes wild. "And now I won't miss!"
The gun roared.
Raymond froze, shock flashing across his face.
But the bullet never reached him.
"Master!"
Alastor appeared in a blur of shadow and steel, his hand lashing out with terrifying speed. With a single strike, he slapped Roland across the room, sending him crashing into the wall with bone-shattering force. The bullet spun uselessly in the air—caught between Alastor's fingers.
Raymond collapsed to the floor, breath ragged. "Ah…"
Alastor knelt beside him instantly, healing energy radiating from his touch. "Are you all right, Master?"
Raymond pushed himself to his feet, shaking off the weakness. "I told you… I had it under control." His eyes narrowed coldly. "Did you get all that he said?"
Roland groaned, blood dripping as he struggled to stand.
The office door burst open. Men in black coats stormed inside—Interpol officers, their badges glinting under the lights.
"Did you get the evidence, Mr. Raymond?" the lead officer asked.
Roland's eyes widened in horror. "Interpol? You—You set me up?!"
The second officer stepped forward. "Ronald Martins, you are under arrest for embezzlement—"
"You tricked me!" Roland roared, firing his gun in blind fury.
Bullets rained through the office, but every shot was deflected harmlessly against Alastor's impenetrable form. The demon laughed darkly. "You never learn, do you?"
Roland's face contorted in terror. "What are you? What in God's name are you?! Why can't you die!?" His shots grew desperate, each one more frantic than the last.
Alastor's smile widened, exposing razor-like teeth. "Hahaha… human, you have angered not just me, but my Master. If you do not stop, I will make you worse."
Shaking, Roland pressed the gun to his own head. "Stay back! Stay back or I'll kill myself!"
"Oh, what a nice idea." Alastor crouched low, his true monstrous visage flickering through the shadows. His voice dripped with sadistic glee. "If you kill yourself, I'll drag you back. And then I'll kill you again. And again. And again. Until you beg for the torment to end. And even then… I'll send you to Hell. But don't think Hell is safe from me." His grin twisted unnaturally, eyes glowing. "I'll be there waiting to torture you for all eternity."
Roland's gun slipped from his trembling hands as raw, primal fear consumed him. He fell to his knees, his will broken.
The Interpol officer stepped forward coldly. "Ronald Martins, you are under arrest for embezzlement of government funds, murder, battery, child assault, multiple counts of rape, cyberattacks, assassination, and hate speech across multiple accounts."
Another officer seized him roughly, snapping handcuffs around his wrists. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in the court of law."
Roland's screams echoed through the room as they dragged him away, his crimes finally laid bare.
And as the light faded from the office, Raymond stood silently, his heart heavy with the truth at last revealed.