"It's definitely impossible..." Ryan said from his newly discovered ground-floor office in Manhattan. Even so, despite the difficult words, an amused smile spread across his face.
"I was never a model student and I didn't even finish high school, and now I have to take an exam covering all the knowledge I never learned." Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "It's so unfair it's almost funny."
Over the past few days, Aron had sent Ryan what were supposed to be the most recurring topics and questions from the general exam, not the special one, but it was a start. Even so, there was still a great deal of variety, but from that point on, Ryan began to formulate his plan.
And of course, that plan did not include studying until the last minute.
"John! Bring me a slice of cake and a cappuccino." Ryan ordered, relaxed, contrary to what was expected of him.
After all, today was the first day of the exam.
Even so, all he had done in those two weeks was eat and drink without a care. Enough to make even John and Aron tense, extremely tense. They had expected the boy to take everything more seriously.
Even so, all he did was eat and drink like someone who had already won at life.
"My master..." John said, handing over the order and glancing over the computer monitor. Ryan was playing some kind of turn-based game. "Shouldn't you use the remaining time to study?"
"Why?" Ryan asked, digging into the cake with his fork and then eating a bite with relish before continuing, gesturing with the fork. "Would that even make a difference? Do you think I can cram five full years of knowledge into my head in what? Two hours?" Ryan stared at him with an absurd expression and shrugged. "You know, John, there's a reason they give you five years to learn all of that. And even if we considered that I'm a special case, I'd still need at least 10 months to two years. So there's no point in trying. Why would I bother?"
John watched in silence with his head lowered. "But you have a plan?"
"That I do, but whether it'll be enough is hard to say." Ryan rose from the table. "After all, they asked me to be nothing less than perfect."
Ryan cleared his throat. "Either way, have the car brought around. I want to arrive before the exam starts and maybe take a little walk around the campus where I'll be spending the next golden years of my life."
"As you wish." John bowed and left the room.
Ryan then took a deep breath before facing himself in the mirror on one of the room's walls. His appearance was truly impeccable, just as it had been when he first met Alex and Rudeus at the Manhattan Café, right after his father's staged death. Even his clothes were the same.
Even so, something in his gaze sent a chill down the spine.
Ryan no longer carried that intelligence and liveliness in his eyes. People no longer saw in him a young man with an intellectual air, not anymore.
Ryan knew something had gradually changed, and now, an alien lived behind those eyes, and he knew the others were aware of it too. He had changed, and his eyes betrayed that change, stirring a terrifying fear in anyone who came face to face with that unknown stranger.
Ryan had never seen anyone with eyes like his.
And no one he knew could recognize a gaze like that.
Only Ryan had those alien eyes.
'What am I becoming?' He asked himself, uncertain. No one feared that stranger as much as he did. 'Is this even something good? Or am I becoming like that guardian? Like those insane, corrupt monsters?' He shuddered at the question.
'Am I being corrupted?' He feared himself.
Even so, he stepped closer to the mirror and pressed his hand against his own reflected face.
"Even so..." Ryan said with certainty. "I can at least say this with conviction." He stared into his own alien eyes. "That regardless of everything, I am still me."
Ryan held the gaze of the reflection before him, feeling his heart grow lighter.
Until suddenly, the Demonic Wolf stared back at him with a grin. "Are you sure about that?"
Ryan was shaken by the dark vision that overtook the mirror.
Blood dripped from the demonic wolf's fangs, as well as from its claws. All that blood ran down the creature's body, part of it being absorbed by its fur, staining it a deep crimson, while the rest dripped onto the floor, pooling beneath it. Behind it, countless bodies of beasts, monsters, and dozens of men and women lay fallen, their expressions frozen and pale, revealing a trail of destruction while its footsteps left a bloody path that made plain who had caused that chaos.
"Tell the truth." The Demonic Wolf said. "You're afraid of going back to the Unnamed Game, not because it was dangerous or because you feared death. But because you enjoyed it."
"But what?" Ryan's expression began to crumble, growing more and more horrified with every passing moment, his eyes widening as he stepped back one step at a time.
The Demonic Wolf laughed. "You loved that world. The challenges it handed you left you in ecstasy every time you overcame them. Your pursuers, and even your treacherous companions, never let you blink, pushing your mind to its absolute limit, and you were in love with that, with the euphoria of being at the edge and surpassing everyone anyway. Of proving yourself the best."
"You don't know what you're talking about." Ryan murmured.
"I do, actually. I am you, after all." The Demonic Wolf let out a deep laugh.
"You learned to enjoy the blood."
"You learned to enjoy the killing and the violence."
"You learned the taste of standing above the rest. Of being the Alpha."
Ryan clenched his jaw in disgust.
"Ah, I remember it well. That feeling of dominance. Hundreds of slavers, hundreds of wolves, and all of them either died or ran with their tails between their legs when they faced us. That was like the finest drug in the world, wasn't it? Being more powerful, more intelligent, more dominant."
"So Ryan, why not just admit it? That world is perfect for you."
"You were born for this."
"To kill."
"To destroy."
"To dominate."
"Become the overlord that world forged you to be."
"Silence!" Ryan struck the glass, shattering it. The Demonic Wolf fractured into thousands of pieces. Ryan grew increasingly disturbed.
"This mirror is a reflection of your mind." The Demonic Wolf spoke with solemnity and cold calm. "Refuse who you are and everything will fall apart. Accept it, Ryan, that no, you are not a good person. And return to where you belong. Finish what you started, and this time go all the way."
The shards fell to the floor as Ryan drew back his bloodied fist. The mental image dissolved once more.
"The episodes are becoming more and more frequent." Ryan said, breathless, walking to the desk and pulling open a drawer. He retrieved an orange prescription bottle. "Why the hell doesn't this stuff work!" He nearly tore his hair out as he ground his teeth.
"Damn it!" He hissed under his breath, hurling the pills across the room.
But he soon steadied himself against the desk, trying to recover his composure.
"Young master," John said, stepping into the room, his expression tightening as he took in Ryan's posture. "Is this a bad time?" He asked in a low voice, and Ryan simply waved his hand.
"No, no, everything's fine. Go ahead." Ryan straightened himself again.
"Aron is outside. He insisted on taking you to the university in person." John spoke with seriousness. "Would you like to refuse, or would you prefer I come along? To avoid any... accidents, like the ones last time."
"Back to talking about my father?" Ryan said with obvious sarcasm. "Killing me is not in Aron's interests and that much is clear. What's even clearer is that he's afraid I'll order you to kill him, or that after my disappearance you'd hunt him down exactly like a wolf and a hare." He then concluded:
"Aron won't do anything. It goes against his interests, and he lacks the nerve for it."
Ryan then walked past John. "Take good care of things here. This shouldn't take long." John nodded like a good servant.
Ryan made his way out of the Manhattan, drawing glances from the customers around him, who quickly recognized the beloved rookie. Seeing him dressed so formally, they soon made cheerful remarks about how fast he had grown and how he was already such an important young man in a suit.
Ryan laughed easily along with them before stepping out onto the sidewalk. A soft smile settled over him as he scanned the area for Aron, who was leaning against a sports car smoking a cigarette. The moment their eyes met, Aron flicked the cigarette away. It fell to the ground where it was crushed out.
"You look calm." Aron said, studying Ryan.
"And you look nervous." Ryan said, studying Aron.
"I was born a bundle of nerves." Aron added. "And that's not a bad thing, believe me. It's that very restlessness that lets me always stay a dozen steps ahead of our enemies. That's how I became the Boss's left hand."
"I see." Ryan remarked. "Anxiety and paranoia are terrible things, unless you have real enemies to fight."
"Exactly." Aron nodded. "Which makes me wonder. Why aren't you nervous? Your battle is no smaller than mine."
Ryan shrugged. "Don't laugh, but deep down I still find all of this... easy. I don't feel truly challenged, the more I think about it. The simpler it all seems."
"I'm sure you didn't feel that way in the beginning." Aron observed, and Ryan agreed.
"In the beginning I didn't really think it through, I just judged it through the common lens. Later, I got curious and studied it. And then it didn't seem like anything so remarkable." Ryan sighed. "I've already beaten challenges far worse than this one."
"I see..." Aron studied Ryan for a few moments, assessing carefully. "Want a candy?"
"Sure." Ryan didn't think much of it, took the candy and popped it into his mouth.
Aron watched him eat the candy without a care, and once it had been swallowed he then said:
"I put poison in that candy, a dose lethal even for a blue whale." Ryan froze.
"Is this a joke?"
"I have the antidote kept in a secret location, well out of reach." Aron looked toward the horizon. "But I'll only give it to you if you pass the exam. Otherwise Ryan, you die." Ryan didn't know what to say, but Aron was far from finished.
"As for John, my team has been infiltrating the Manhattan for the past month as regular customers. You know the face of every one of them, since they pushed for as many interactions as possible with the beloved rookie and his diligent veteran to lower your guard and John's. Their mission is assassination. John will die tonight unless I call off the operation. And of course, I'll only give the order if you pass in time."
Ryan's eyes went wide, and Aron picked up a folder and handed it over. "Here is a list of names. Every one of them is being monitored by trained assassins who slowly earned the target's trust to allow for a swift, totally lethal surprise strike, and those targets are going to die very soon, unless I give the order otherwise."
Ryan's hands trembled as he seized the folder and began flipping through it.
John.
Rudeus.
Alex.
Along with a series of other names belonging to the mafia, the main leaders of the Rebel Faction.
"They've become too great a risk. Elimination is worth more than the constant threat." Aron commented as Ryan went down the list.
Eleanor, his mother's name was on the list too.
His younger sister, also.
Elisa and Brayan, also...
Mafia companions, family, new friends and old ones.
Every single person Ryan knew was on that list.
"Prove you're useful, or this is the near future." Aron took the folder from his hands. "Tonight, all of you will meet either in heaven or in hell, unless you know what. Understood?"
Ryan's heart began to race. His mind began to sharpen.
"Then we'd better not be late." Ryan said coldly, and Aron nodded, opening the door.
"Certainly."