Most people would have stopped. The kind of information already laid bare in front of him was enough to break systems, collapse networks, and bring down organizations that operated in the shadows. It was the kind of evidence governments would kill to obtain, the kind of truth that could ignite global investigations overnight.
But Akshat wasn't most people.
Instead of pulling back, he leaned forward, his expression sharpening as he began digging deeper into the folders, bypassing layers of encryption with a patience that bordered on obsession. The more he uncovered, the clearer it became that this pendrive wasn't just a warning—it was a key. And it was unlocking something far worse than he had anticipated.
The documents multiplied as he moved further in. Hundreds of files surfaced, each one detailing operations that weren't just illegal—they were inhuman. Reports of underground trades, private auctions beyond regulation, controlled trafficking routes that spanned continents. Each file carried dates, signatures, approvals. Everything was documented with a level of precision that made it undeniable.
This wasn't chaos.
This was organization.
Akshat's eyes moved steadily across the screen, absorbing everything without pause. There was more than enough evidence here to dismantle the entire structure. If handed to the right authorities, it could shut down the Fallen Star Auction completely, exposing everyone involved, dragging every hidden player into the light.
And yet…
He didn't reach for that option.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before continuing forward, deeper into the system instead of stepping away from it. There was something about this network that felt… layered. Too controlled, too deliberate to be taken down so easily.
"This isn't something you expose," he murmured quietly to himself. "This is something you understand first."
Because if something like this existed at this scale…
Then simply destroying it wouldn't be enough.
Someone would rebuild it.
Someone always did.
His gaze shifted as a new file caught his attention. It was labeled differently from the rest.
Succession.
The word itself carried weight. Akshat clicked on it.
The screen loaded slowly this time, as if the system itself resisted revealing what was inside. When it finally opened, the contents were surprisingly minimal. Only two names. Nothing else. No explanation. No details. Just two entries, sitting there in absolute silence.
Alexander Vane.
And—
Kuroda Haruki.
Akshat's eyes narrowed slightly. The first name didn't surprise him. Alexander's involvement in high-level networks, his intelligence, his connections—it made sense. But the second name… That was new.
"Who is Kuroda Haruki?" he asked under his breath.
There was no hesitation as he began searching through the files again, this time targeting that specific name. The system responded quickly, revealing a hidden cluster of encrypted documents tied to the identity.
Akshat broke through them one by one.
And then—
The truth began to unfold.
Kuroda Haruki.
Leader of Hostel 1.
Akshat's posture shifted slightly, the realization settling in as he continued reading. The records weren't straightforward. They were layered, altered, intentionally misleading in places. But piece by piece, the real identity began to emerge.
Kuroda Haru…
Was not originally Haru.
The original name surfaced deeper in the files. Kuroda Haruki.
Akshat's eyes sharpened. "So that's it…" he murmured.
The records detailed a complete transformation—identity reconstruction, gender reassignment, official documentation rewritten across multiple systems. It wasn't just a name change. It was a complete erasure and rebirth.
Age: 21.
Height: 6 feet.
Origin: Japan.
Current address: AUMC hostel 1 basement bunker reinforced by stainless steel.
But the most disturbing part wasn't the transformation. It was the reason behind it. Akshat's gaze darkened slightly as he read further.
The Kuroda family.
Framed.
Destroyed.
Eliminated.
Every record pointed toward the same conclusion—the entire family had been systematically wiped out, their name dragged through fabricated crimes, their existence reduced to nothing but a false narrative. And behind it—
The Fallen Star Auction.
Akshat leaned back slightly, processing the weight of it. "So you lost everything…" he said quietly.
The next line confirmed it. Kuroda Haruki now worked within the system. Not out of loyalty. Not out of belief. But out of necessity. A condition had been placed. Fragments of the Kuroda family still lived—but only as long as Haruki complied. Their survival depended entirely on obedience.
Akshat exhaled slowly. "That's one way to break a person…" he muttered. There was no sympathy in his tone. But there was understanding. Because that kind of pressure didn't just control someone— It reshaped them.
His eyes lingered on the file for a moment longer before shifting again. Another document had appeared. And this one felt different. The name alone carried a weight that made the air in the room feel heavier.
The Bio-Cataclysm.
Akshat didn't move immediately. Something about it felt wrong. Not dangerous in a physical sense— But deeper. More fundamental. Still, he opened it.
The screen changed. This wasn't structured like the other files. There were no clean reports, no organized summaries. Instead, the document was filled with hand-drawn diagrams, fragmented notes, and microscopic images that seemed almost unreal in their complexity.
Akshat leaned closer to the screen, his focus sharpening instantly. "This… isn't standard research," he said under his breath.
The diagrams were intricate, far beyond conventional virology. The structures depicted didn't align with known viral patterns—they were too adaptive, too dynamic, almost as if the organism itself defied stable classification.
His eyes moved rapidly, analyzing each detail, each annotation. And then he saw the name attached to the discovery.
Kurana Alexanderia.
Akshat's expression hardened. "So you were involved in this too…"
The notes continued.
Location: Antarctica.
Status: Contained.
Condition: Unstable.
He scrolled further. The properties were listed below, written in precise but unsettling detail.
Mind Corruption.
Akshat's fingers paused slightly. He read it again. Mind corruption. A biological agent capable of altering cognitive function at a fundamental level. Not just affecting behavior—but rewriting it.
He continued reading.
Potential: Human Perfection (Conditional Use).
Akshat's brows furrowed deeply now. "Perfection?" he repeated quietly.
The notes elaborated. If controlled properly, the same agent that destroyed the mind could be redirected—forcing the human body into an accelerated state of evolution. Enhanced physical capacity, improved neural processing, near-limitless adaptability.
But the margin for error… Was nonexistent. One miscalculation— And the subject would lose everything that made them human.
Akshat leaned back slowly, his eyes still locked on the screen. For the first time since he started going through the files, there was a visible shift in his expression. Not fear. But something close to it.
"This isn't a weapon…" he said quietly. "It's a gamble."
His gaze lingered on the microscopic images again, studying the structure, the patterns, the unnatural behavior of the organism. Then he spoke again. Softly.
"What is this…?"
The question hung in the silence of the room, unanswered. But deep down— Akshat already knew.
Whatever this was… It wasn't meant for this world.
End of ch 50
To be continue...
© 2026 darkstar penguin | Reposting or copying is prohibited.