The room was quiet. Chairman Song and Mr. Jing had left hours ago, leaving Frances alone among the still-glowing monitors. Everyone else had gone home, exhausted, but she hadn't moved from her spot.
Her hands pressed against the cold console, eyes fixed on the screens, replaying the chaos of the day—Hours had passed. Frances didn't sit. She didn't move. She just stood there, Finally, she exhaled sharply. Her voice cut through the silence, low and steady.
"Bring me all the available information about the hacker code name M.v.E.
Sia who is still lingering outside the room, hesitated. "M-Ms. Song… it's late. Shouldn't we—"
"I said bring it," Frances interrupted, voice calm but uncompromising. She didn't look at him, eyes narrowing as the first files loaded.
"He's not just some hacker," Sia said cautiously. "M.v.E… he's well known and notorious in the city. He is know to only infiltrates massive companies, and no white-hat hacker has ever caught him. The only reason we can trace him at all is the 111 code he leaves behind."
Frances murmured under her breath. "Triple one."
"We used to call him that," Sia continued, "until someone realized and decrypted a line of code he always left behind—Meah_ve'achat_Esre.(M.V.E) Hebrew for one-hundred-eleven. That's when the code name M.v.E was born.
Some even call him the Night Clown because His attacks… they're almost just antics just to give headaches to big companies."
Frances exhaled slowly, tension still coiling in her shoulders. "So he really is… untamable," she muttered, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled the way he had toyed with her earlier—his anger sharp, his gaze cold, then twisting into that unnerving, almost amused laugh. He despised anyone trying to control him, yet there was… purpose behind it. A precision in his chaos.
"It's rare to find someone like that," she whispered, a spark of determination in her voice. "Someone this… dangerous, yet brilliant… I'll do whatever it takes to bring him on our side.
…..
Thud. Thud. Thwump....
"Hey, Spiky. Still don't wanna admit who your boss is?" Sabio Beelzebub a short cholo-looking man hooked his fingers into Spiky's hair and yanked his head up. Sweat and blood dripped down Spiky's swollen face.
Spiky, a notorious loan shark tied to a chair in the dark room, just stared back and laughed at him.
Irritated, Sabio's fist snapped forward, crashing into Spiky's jaw and sending him slamming to the side.
"Still not talking, huh?" Sabio growled, signaling his men behind him. "Beat him."
They went at him. Minutes later, Spiky lay on the floor, drowning in his own blood. Even then, he muttered with a bitter, sarcastic tone:
"I'd rather die than betray our organization."
He spat toward Sabio.
Sabio's jaw clenched. He was running out of ways—out of patience—to make this man reveal who was backing him.
Then the door burst open.
Bang.
Spiky's dazed eyes slowly lifted. The moment he recognized the silhouette, his entire body froze.
A tall figure stepped in.
Black suit.
A cross tattoo under his right eye.
Eyes dark and empty—like a dead void.
Spiky's voice cracked. "Y y you're… the notorious Angel of Death…of city A,
Achylys Azazel…
He scrambled backward in panic.
Achylys didn't respond.
He simply walked forward, each step slow and deliberate.
Spiky tried to stand, tried to resist, but it was useless.
Achylys grabbed him by the throat and lifted him with one hand. His expression didn't change.
Spiky choked out, "Wh why?! What did I ever do to you? Why are you targeting me? You don't wanna mess with the person backing me! I'm warning you—stay away from him and let me go!"
Achylys spoke, voice low and cold, one hand still in his pocket.
"Name them."
His grip tightened.
Even as he suffocated, Spiky refused.
Achylys squeezed harder, then suddenly released him, letting him crash violently to the ground.
Achylys sat down on a chair, leaned back, crossed his leg, and opened a book—calm, detached.
His men dragged Spiky up so he faced him. Spiky's eyes were half open, blood streaking down his face.
"Just kill me already…" Spiky muttered, struggling to keep his eyes open.
Achylys replied, still reading.
"your worthless life doest matter to us."
He tossed a photograph onto the floor.
Spiky's eyes snapped wide. His jaw clenched. His fists trembled.
He dragged his gaze up to Achylys, breath uneven. "Where… Why do you—"
Sabio stepped forward, grabbed him by the hair, and forced his head up again.
"You really think we don't know you have an illegitimate son?" Sabio growled into his ear.
Spiky trembled, but forced a weak lie. "I… I don't know what you're talking ab—"
Another photo hit the ground—this one recent.
Achylys spoke without emotion. "You have five seconds to decide."
He raised one hand, showing the count.
"Wait—" Spiky tried, but Achylys continued.
5…
"Hold on—please—"
4…
His breathing grew rapid.
3…
2…
1…
He collapsed to his knees, shaking violently.
"No… no, no, no—please…" His voice cracked, dissolving into raw, broken sobs. "Please, don't hurt him… I'll talk. I'll tell you everything—just don't touch my boy. Please, Achylys… please…"
…..
"So it is truly Counselor Jing who's behind the massive loan syndicate." A deep, commanding voice echoed through the dark, hidden room. He paused, slowly tapping the armrest with a finger, each tap reverberating like a warning through the shadows.
"For now, continue monitoring the syndicate's moves," the man murmured from behind a crimson curtain, his figure reduced to a dark, looming silhouette.
Achylys and Sabio stood before him, heads bowed in respect as he spoke.
"Grandmaster… do you have further commands?" Achylys asked, his voice steady despite the tension.
"No," the figure replied. "I will handle the rest. It is time to fulfill my promise. The two of you… it is time. I will grant you entrance to Lykhierion University, as we agreed."
In unison, Achylys and Sabio knelt, one knee touching the floor, their gazes lowered.
"Thank you, Grandmaster."