The morning air was oppressively heavy.As soon as Ethan stepped out of the dormitory, he received a summons: the Director wanted to see him.
The message was abrupt, immediately tightening his chest. The phantom attack from the previous night was still vivid in his mind; he and Karl had barely slept. Yet the Director's summons offered no reason or explanation—just one cold word: "Immediately."
Ethan followed an officer down the long corridor, arriving at a towering stone-walled office, dimly lit. The door closed behind him, shutting out all external sound, leaving only the low breathing and the soft echo of footsteps on the carpet.
The Director sat behind the desk, hands clasped, eyes sharp as ice. Her voice was calm, yet carried an authority that brooked no dissent:"Ethan Veil, you look tired."
Ethan straightened his posture, forcing his heartbeat down. "I didn't rest well last night."
The Director smiled slightly, but the expression was icy, sending a chill down his spine."Is that so? Yet according to the report I received, shots were fired in your dorm. You should know that firing a gun inside the Bureau is no small matter."
Ethan's fingers tensed, but he kept his voice steady. "I was attacked."
"Attacked?" The Director rose slowly, circling the desk. Her steps were light, yet each movement cut like a blade, closing in on him. "Are you saying someone can bring nightmare energy straight into the heart of our Bureau?"
Ethan met her gaze without nodding, remaining silent.
For a brief moment, he caught a glint in her eyes—elusive, unreadable, perhaps approval… or a warning.
"You are vigilant," she said lightly. "But excessive suspicion is dangerous—for you, and for the Bureau."
Ethan felt a sinking weight in his chest.These words were not advice; they were a threat.
An invisible net seemed to tighten around him. He knew that if he spoke another word, he could be ensnared completely.
The Director turned her back to him, fingers lightly tracing the edge of the dossiers on the bookshelf."You are new. There are many things you don't need to know. What you must do is obey orders, complete your missions, and keep silent."
She paused, her voice chilling slightly."As for those things… you shouldn't see, you shouldn't think about—forget them as quickly as possible."
The air felt suffocating.Ethan felt trapped in an invisible cage, each breath growing heavier.
He gritted his teeth and replied softly, "I understand."
The Director turned back, her smile returning."Good. You are clever, Ethan." She returned to her desk slowly. "Clever people know when to ask questions, and when to keep their mouths shut."
She tapped the desk lightly."Go back and rest. Remember, the Bureau is not a playground. It swallows anyone who takes a single wrong step."
Her words fell into a deathly silence.
As Ethan left the office, his back stiff and palms slick with cold sweat, he knew one thing: the Director had noticed the attack last night.More frighteningly, she did not display anger or panic. Instead, her calm, detached demeanor implied a subtle warning.
What did this mean?It meant the Director had likely known all along… perhaps she was even one of the silent orchestrators behind the phantom attack.
A chill ran through Ethan's spine, yet only one thought filled his mind:No matter what, he had to continue his investigation.
Because if he stopped now, the next attack might not be a phantom… it could be death itself.