In the dim, suffocating confines of the bar's basement, Leo was helplessly pinned to the cold, unforgiving floor. Fear had frozen him, yet desperation surged through his veins as the man's accomplice poured gasoline over him. His voice cracked, a raw, trembling plea escaping his lips. "Mercy… please, have mercy!" he screamed, the words catching in his throat. But his cries were met with nothing but cruel indifference. The two men exchanged a glance and laughed—a chilling, heartless sound that reverberated off the stone walls—before stepping back. Flames erupted, licking at his body, and the basement was instantly filled with his piercing screams, a cacophony of terror that seemed to twist the very air into smoke.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, the madman had gone in search of his "star," calling her name as though she would answer to his whim. When he opened the door, his eyes fell upon a figure seated in the shadows: a man, calm yet imposing, cradling the little girl in his arms. The madman sneered, waving dismissively. "Ah, hello. Forgive me for not arranging an appointment," he said, his voice dripping with mockery.
The large man's assistant bellowed furiously, "Seize him!" Yet their hands grasped only air. Confusion and dread twisted the madman's features as the mysterious figure effortlessly placed the heads of the assistants in his hands, towering over them. "Who… who are you?" he muttered, his voice a trembling whisper as horror coursed through him. For a moment, comprehension failed him entirely, and when clarity returned, he threw the bodies aside with a swift, mechanical motion.
"Impossible! Who are you? Stay away! That insignia on your sword… are you one of the Black Hunters?" he demanded, his fear barely restrained.
The man smiled, a sinister curl of his lips. "And what if I were?" he replied. "It matters little… for your end has already come."
The madman lunged for the door, a futile attempt at escape, only to be stopped cold by Tyler's dagger piercing his chest. Tyler's gaze shifted to the girl sitting in the corner. "Come on," he said firmly. "You need to come with me, now."
Her eyes blazed with defiance. "I'm not going anywhere without my father."
"What?" Tyler's face registered shock, disbelief etched into every line. "Your father… you mean…"
She bolted toward the door, ignoring his question, and he caught her swiftly. With a resigned sigh, he muttered, "Alright, Lisa. We'll find your so-called father."
"He's in the basement!" she blurted out, urgency in her voice.
A plume of smoke was already curling from below, the scent unmistakable, familiar enough to trigger a sharp recognition. Tyler's eyes narrowed. "Can you wait here?" he asked cautiously.
"No," she insisted, defiance blazing. "I'm not leaving. I need to see him."
The two descended into the basement, their steps echoing ominously against the cold stone. The sight that greeted them made Tyler recoil, a wave of revulsion washing over him as the charred remnants of flesh lay scattered before them. He pinched his nose and muttered, "Lisa… my little one, I think we might have come a little too late."
Lisa, however, paid no heed to his words. Her heart propelled her forward as if driven by an invisible force. She rushed to Leo, her voice breaking through the thick, acrid air. "Papa! I'm here! Wake up!" she cried, her words trembling with hope and desperation.
"Lisa… I… I think you should let him go," Tyler tried, his voice heavy with caution. "He's… he's dead."
"Impossible!" she shouted, her eyes blazing with defiance. "He's my father! He didn't abandon me to the orphanage. He is my father now, and I won't leave him like this. Wake up, Papa! Please!"
Tyler grabbed her by the collar, pulling her back, his own heart aching. "Come on, we have to go," he said, trying to steady her.
Bitter tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled, her small body writhing in his grasp. But then, something extraordinary happened. A surge of terrifying energy burst from her, a pulse of raw, uncontrollable power. Tyler was thrown across the room, slamming into the wall, blood trickling from his lips. He groaned, rubbing the impact from his jaw.
"By all that's holy, Lisa… we can't just stay here staring at a burnt corpse! This isn't the first body you've seen. Why are you so attached to this man? The boss will kill me if we're late!" he shouted, pushing forward once more to restrain her.
Then, a faint sound caught his attention—a shallow, irregular breath. He froze, turning sharply, incredulity etched across his face. "Could he… still be alive? Impossible…"
He carefully approached Leo, his hand trembling as he reached out. The charred skin flaked under his touch, revealing layers of fresh, unburned flesh beneath. His eyes widened in astonishment. "No… it's impossible… he's alive… I bet Veronica will die if she sees him… she'll experiment on him immediately!"
Scanning the room, Tyler noticed a cloak wrapped tightly around Leo's form. Gently, he lifted him onto his back. "You did it, little one. We're taking your father with us… or whatever name he goes by," he said, a rare smile breaking through his exhaustion.
Lisa's heart leapt with joy, her relief palpable, her small hands gripping the cloak as if anchoring herself to reality. Together, they moved toward the forest, leaving behind the chaos, the smoke, and the ruin that had consumed the basement.
The metallic clang of metal striking a hard surface echoed through the dim room, followed by the faint click of high heels somewhere nearby. Leo's vision was blurred, his mind clouded with confusion. Through the haze, a woman appeared intermittently, her form flickering like a shadow, her touch cold against his skin. He surrendered to the overwhelming fog of consciousness and closed his eyes again, attempting to escape the nightmare of awareness.
"He's starting to wake," Veronica's calm voice cut through the silence. "Call the Director."
"Yes, Miss Veronica," the assistant replied, hurrying out of the room, his footsteps fading quickly.
"I know you're awake. Open your eyes."
A shiver ran down Leo's spine, resurrecting memories of the fire, the agony, the helplessness. He couldn't tell if this woman was allied with those men from the bar, but he understood instinctively that resistance was futile. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, trying to move, only to realize he was bound to a cold, steel bed.
Veronica set her glasses on the table and regarded him coolly. "Don't bother struggling. These restraints are made of reinforced steel. And besides… your skin is still new. Any effort will only make it worse."
Leo exhaled slowly, the strength to fight leaving him. He had no choice but to submit, to wait. The door opened, and a tall man entered, dark-haired with penetrating eyes, clad entirely in black from head to toe.
"Good evening, sir," Veronica greeted him smoothly.
"Skip the pleasantries," he replied, his voice low, calculated. "So… what have you discovered about this specimen?"
"Unfortunately, I couldn't determine its classification, though its cells are human," she said, her tone even, precise.
"I find that hard to believe. You—of all people—found nothing?" he asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "The genius of the century, and nothing?"
"Thank you for the compliment, but there's nothing clear. Nothing in any records, anywhere. Not even a name appears in the kingdom's archives. I searched thoroughly. No title, no medical history, no official documents. It's as though he fell from the sky. And on top of that… he burned. Yet he didn't die. On the contrary… he returned stronger. Fully healed."
Veronica's lips curved into a slight smile. "Well then, we have something… fascinating here."
"So, what do you suggest we do with him?" the other man asked, his tone sharp. "Lisa has already irritated me with her insistence on calling him 'Father.' Do we simply… kill him?"
"He's dangerous," Veronica replied, her voice measured. "We don't know the extent of his abilities or his limits. Look here," she said, gesturing to the charred marks on Leo's chest. "I made incisions to test his regenerative capabilities… and yet, he healed. Disappeared before I could continue. See?"
Keeping such a creature alive is undoubtedly risky," she continued, "but the choice is yours. Do as you wish."
"Hmm… I suppose I'll conduct further studies," he mused, a gleam of curiosity lighting his dark eyes.
All of this conversation unfolded directly in front of Leo, as if he were invisible, a ghost tethered to a world that seemed determined to manipulate and dissect him
"Yay… hi… you two—here I am! How can you discuss killing me while I'm sitting right here?" Leo's voice trembled, half disbelief, half desperation.
The man turned slowly, his gaze cold and merciless as he approached. "And is there any reason I shouldn't kill you?" he asked, each word deliberate, heavy with menace. "You sold a seven-year-old girl to a man without knowing what he would do to her. Why should I keep you alive?"
Leo swallowed hard, the words sticking in his throat. "I… I'm truly sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
"Sorry?" The man's tone was sharp, almost amused. "That's all you have to say?"
"Please… please spare my life. I'll do anything you want—anything… just please," Leo begged, his body trembling.
"Ha!" The man laughed darkly, a sound that sent a shiver down Leo's spine. "Anything, is it? Bold words from someone as insignificant as you."
"Veronica," he asked, turning toward her, "what do you think? Shall we let him join us?"
Veronica blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "You're joking, right?" she asked incredulously.
The man's grip on Leo's face tightened, rough and unyielding. "Oh, I am not joking," he said coldly. "The ranks of the Black Hunters have dwindled over the years. We lost two just last month. We need to fill the gaps."
"Very well, sir. Do as you wish," Veronica replied, her tone neutral, almost clinical. "But remember—he is dangerous. One day, you may have to kill him. And, of course, he must pass the initiation test."
He looked at her, a glint of dark amusement in his eyes. "If he cannot pass, he dies anyway. Let's make it… interesting. Call someone to take him to the test."