Lucas stood in front of the headquarters door and knocked.
A pair of eyes appeared through a small window in the door… then it opened.
He raised his gaze…
A girl was the one who opened it.
Karl… Harry's younger sister.
She was beautiful—black hair, gray eyes, and soft, gentle features.
He spoke with difficulty:
"Can… I come in?"
She smiled calmly.
"Of course… you're part of the team now."
Her voice was soft… comforting.
At that moment, Karl noticed Lucas's condition…
He looked like he was dying.
Exhaustion covered his face, and a bit of dried blood still clung near his ear.
He smiled at her despite everything… a faint, painful smile.
"Thanks."
He walked inside.
She grabbed his left hand.
He stopped and turned to her.
She said hesitantly:
"I want to ask you something…"
She looked directly at him.
"Where did you go? What happened?"
Her reason was clear…
Her brother's condition when he came back.
She had asked him too… but he didn't answer.
He didn't speak to her… didn't even look at her.
She remembered Lucas had been with him.
Lucas understood immediately.
(So… she's very close to him… and she noticed how bad he looked.)
He put his right hand in his pocket and stood straight.
"A lot of things happened…
Bad things.
You don't need to know."
She understood… but that only made her angrier.
Without thinking, she said, raising her voice slightly:
"Damn Carlos… he's the reason for all of this!"
Then she looked at him quickly, startled, remembering he was there:
"Please… don't tell him I said that."
He replied coldly:
"Why would I tell him that?"
He turned and walked away.
Lucas wasn't in a state to care about anyone's feelings.
There was only one thing in his head…
(I have to kill someone… I need a gun.)
He started searching.
He looked toward the bathroom… nothing.
He entered another room—
Carlos was there.
Two men stood in front of him as he yelled at them:
"Steal money from anyone you want… but not from the organization!"
One of them spoke quickly:
"I swear… we didn't steal it. It was taken from us."
Carlos looked at him sharply.
"And who did that?"
The man replied:
"A cop stopped us on the road… told us to pull over.
He searched everything… then took the drugs and the money."
The other added:
"We tried to explain who we are… but he didn't care. He threatened to arrest us."
He placed what remained of the money on the table.
Carlos asked:
"How do you know he was a cop?"
"His clothes… and he had a gun… and a radio."
Carlos tilted his head slightly.
"Do you remember his face?"
"Yes… we do."
He gestured for them to leave.
As they walked out, they noticed Lucas standing by the door.
He had heard everything.
One of them stared at him in an uncomfortable way.
Lucas ignored it.
He approached Carlos, who stood there with a serious expression… the kind that made it seem like he could hurt you at any moment.
That's why most people feared him.
He didn't joke… and demanded perfection.
But… how could that look affect someone who had died three times in one day?
Lucas spoke calmly:
"I want a gun."
Silence filled the room.
Carlos didn't react.
Lucas continued:
"I want to kill someone."
Carlos slowly stood.
He pulled out his phone and called immediately.
"Hello… everything's fine. Lucas wants a gun."
It was obvious…
Who he was calling.
At that moment…
Antonio was at home.
A large house…
Green grass, a big pool, people swimming.
His family was having a barbecue nearby.
Antonio laughed.
"He wants a gun? To kill someone? Hahaha…"
He kept laughing.
Carlos didn't understand why.
But Antonio…
still hadn't processed everything that happened.
Then he said:
"Wait, Carlos… I'll send you something. Check your phone."
Back at the headquarters…
Carlos looked at his phone.
A picture arrived.
A photo of Lucas…
taken after he crushed Pete's skull.
A dark… heavy image…
with something unnatural inside it.
Lucas's eyes…
weren't alive.
Carlos swallowed.
Then looked up at Lucas.
Lucas understood.
He had no patience left.
From the phone:
"Give him a gun."
The call ended.
Carlos put his phone away.
This time, his look was different.
A mix of fear… and respect.
A look no one had ever given Lucas before.
"Follow me."
They walked to a locker.
Carlos opened it and pulled out a small handgun.
Before handing it over, he asked:
"Is this person a cop… or something like that?"
Lucas shrugged.
"I don't know."
He took the gun.
(I hope Antonio knows what he's doing…)
Lucas opened it…
checked it.
Handled it professionally.
His FBI experience was clear.
Carlos was surprised.
Lucas turned to leave.
Then stopped.
"That man isn't a cop… it was a setup."
Carlos raised an eyebrow.
"How do you know?"
Lucas paused.
"He stopped them and searched everything immediately."
Silence.
"That's illegal.
A real cop doesn't do that."
"He didn't ask for IDs…
didn't confirm anything…
he searched them like he already knew."
"It's obvious.
They were set up."
Lucas placed the gun in his waistband and left.
Carlos stayed behind…
thinking… grinding his teeth in silence.
Lucas stepped outside.
Paused.
Then moved.
He knew where he was going.
In a narrow alley…
A man sat beside a large trash container.
A homeless man.
Messy hair… thick beard…
his smell almost visible.
He laughed to himself… spoke nonsense…
ate leftovers.
He looked up when he heard footsteps.
He smiled—a broken smile.
"Please… I'm hungry… help me…"
Lucas stopped in front of him.
His right hand… behind his back.
The man noticed.
But—
Lucas brought his hand forward.
He was holding… a sandwich.
He offered it.
The homeless man froze…
then burst into tears.
"Thank you… thank you… God bless you…"
He started eating quickly…
afraid it would be taken.
Still thanking him with every bite.
He looked up.
Tried to see Lucas's face.
But the alley was dark…
Lucas's face hidden in shadow.
He asked softly:
"What's your name?"
Silence.
Lucas didn't answer.
The man smiled sadly.
"It's okay…
thank you… I don't remember the last time someone treated me kindly."
At that moment…
As the man slightly turned—
Lucas pulled out the gun.
Raised it slowly.
Aimed at the back of his head.
His hand… didn't shake.
But inside—
he was collapsing.
He whispered:
"Sorry…"
Gunshot.
The sound shattered the silence.
The bullet pierced the back of the man's head.
At that exact moment—
Lucas felt…
as if the bullet had passed through him.
He stepped back.
His breath caught.
The body fell to the ground.
Without a sound.
He looked at him.
The homeless man's face…
held a strange sadness.
As if life…
hadn't left him, even in death.
(Why…?)
Killing just anyone on the street was never easy…
Every person has a life… a family… someone who might look for them.
But—
this?
A homeless man… insane… talking to himself…
No one would ask.
No one would search.
No one would care.
…Right?
(But he will stay.)
In one place only.
In Lucas's mind.
"You've completed the mission, Arthur…"
The voice returned.
Calm… satisfied.
"I'm excited for your next mission."
Lucas stood.
Turned.
And walked away.
He was tired…
more than physical exhaustion.
He just wanted to sleep.
To sleep…
and wake up to find that all of this—
was just a dream.
He opened his eyes.
He was staring at the ceiling.
He suddenly shifted and sat up.
Yesterday's memories—
came rushing all at once.
He breathed slowly.
Placed a hand on his head.
Then looked to the side.
The book…
was still there.
He reached out and opened it.
At the bottom of the page, words appeared:
[Mission Completed]
Silence.
He thought.
Slowly…
(If I don't die three times…
I won't have to kill.)
A simple idea…
but—
it felt like a lifeline.
He calmed down.
For the first time in a long while.
"Voice… are you there?"
"Yes."
"I have a lot of questions…"
He paused.
Looked toward the window.
"What did you mean… when you said the ability evolves?"
The voice chuckled lightly.
"Oh… right."
"The ability you have now… is tied to the easy stage."
A short pause…
then:
"After you finish it…"
"The medium stage will begin."
"The book's power will evolve."
Lucas froze…
then anger ignited inside him.
The same words.
The same sentence he heard yesterday.
He clenched his fist tightly.
"It won't just be returning from death… right? Then explain it!"
The voice laughed.
Soft… mocking.
"Why rush the stages, Arthur?
Everything… will happen in its time."
A pause.
Then, teasingly:
"I won't spoil the surprise."
Lucas's anger surged.
He raised his hand and slammed it into the wall.
The sound was sharp…
but the pain wasn't in his hand.
"Then why are you here?!"
"What's your purpose?!"
The voice answered calmly…
unaffected:
"I'm just the book's guardian."
A pause.
"And a witness… to all the stages you'll go through."
"And every… mission you'll complete."
Lucas breathed sharply.
He began putting on his clothes quickly…
as if trying to escape the conversation itself.
"Fine… tell me this."
He stopped.
Looked at the book.
"Where did it come from?"
"And how does it have this power?"
Silence.
No answer.
His voice rose suddenly:
"Where did you go?! Answer me!"
The voice returned—
calm… cold:
"I'm here."
Then added, almost sarcastically:
"Relax… or you'll have a stroke and die."
It laughed.
After a moment, it finally spoke:
"Five years ago…"
"During that dark eclipse…"
"The gates to another world opened."
A pause.
As if the words themselves were heavy.
"And things… entered the human world."
"Among them… this book."
Then, coldly:
"That's all you need to know."
"I won't answer anything else."
Lucas froze.
The eclipse…
He remembered.
That day.
The sky turning into unnatural darkness…
The old woman…
Things no one believed.
But he—
had seen them.
A cold curiosity crept into him.
He slowly raised his head.
"So…"
"There's a chance… there are other books?"
Silence.
One second.
Two.
Then—
the voice burst into laughter.
But this time—
it wasn't normal.
It was dark.
Sharp.
Rising… growing…
as if filling the entire room.
No answer.
Just… laughter.
Lucas felt something strange.
As if the laughter…
wasn't just sound.
But a feeling.
Seeping into him.
Something evil… cold… disturbingly pleasant.
He froze.
(It knows…)
(It knows something… and doesn't want to say it.)
The laughter suddenly stopped.
Then the voice spoke in a strange calm tone:
"I'll tell you… Arthur."
"Out of goodwill."
Lucas's body stiffened.
All his senses focused.
"This is not the only book."
"In that world…"
"There are others."
A pause…
then almost a whisper:
"With abilities… beyond your imagination."
The laughter returned.
But this time—
slower.
Heavier.
As if—
it was savoring the idea.