Mayex ran.
He carried Benny through the streets at full speed, her arm hidden under one of the old man's jackets — pulled from the closet on his way out, thrown over her shoulders before anyone outside could see the wound. From a distance, she just looked like a kid being carried home. Nothing more.
He didn't stop. He wasn't going to stop until he reached the basement.
"I hope I can go back in time," he muttered, mostly to himself.
"Don't worry," Benny said quietly against his shoulder. "The group will be waiting for you at the house."
Mayex managed a small smile, even out of breath.
"Yeah. You're right. They're our friends. Of course they will."
---
Boran's POV
"So." Boran crossed his arms. "Should we go look for the old man?"
"I thought we were waiting for Mayex," Adam said.
"We are. But we can't just sit here doing nothing. We need to do something."
He glanced toward the couch.
Elara sat there, perfectly calm, drinking juice like the last twenty minutes hadn't happened.
Boran stared at her for a moment.
"...Is she the example you're going for?" Adam asked.
"Yeah."
"Well." Adam shrugged. "In the meantime, we could talk to the boy."
"Oh — right." Boran looked over at the tied-up figure on the floor. "He's still knocked out though."
"He's faking it."
"...What?"
"Did you not pay attention during training?" Adam said. "You can't stay knocked out for that long. If someone's out for more than a few seconds, they're either coming back or they're dead. He went out, then came back almost immediately — good thing we tied him up while he was still down."
Boran walked over, crouched, and slapped the boy across the face.
"Oi. I know you're awake. Talk. Why'd you attack us out of nowhere?"
The boy's eyes opened immediately. He sat up, looked at Boran, and smiled.
"Mission," he said simply.
"A mission?" Boran's eyes narrowed. "Was your mission to kidnap the old man?"
"The old man?" The boy tilted his head. "Nope. My mission was just to come here and kick your asses."
Adam stepped forward.
"The person who gave you this mission," he said. "Was his name Johan?"
The boy's expression flickered — confusion, then something closer to alarm.
"...How do you—"
"I was right," Adam said quietly.
Boran turned to him. "What does that mean?"
"It means it was a trap." Adam's voice was steady, working it out as he spoke. "Johan sent someone to break in here and cause chaos — to scare the old man, make him panic, make him run. And while all of that was happening, Johan was waiting right outside. The old man ran straight into his hands." He paused. "It's smart. And it worked."
"Wait." Boran stared at him. "You're saying Johan's been outside this whole time? Waiting?"
The boy suddenly sat up straighter, shaking his head fast.
"No — that's impossible! He gave me this mission from a bar — I heard him order a drink over the phone!"
"When did he call you?" Adam asked. "And how long did it take you to get here after that?"
The boy thought for a second.
"...He called me about forty minutes ago. Took me thirty minutes to walk here." His face went pale. "Wait. That means—"
"He had a car," Adam finished.
"But he doesn't have a car! He has a license but no car — he—" The boy stopped. "...Oh. He stole one. Yeah. He does that. He does that a lot."
Boran had heard enough.
He grabbed the boy by the collar and hauled him forward, voice tearing out of him.
"WHERE DID HE TAKE HIM?!"
Even Adam flinched. Elara, from the couch, didn't.
The boy's expression changed.
Something in the room shifted — the air going thin, tight, like the moment before a held breath breaks. The boy's smile was gone. His eyes were serious.
"You want his location," he said slowly.
Nobody breathed.
"His location is..."
The silence stretched. Adam, Elara, and Boran leaned in without realizing it, the whole room narrowing down to this one sentence.
"...his location is—"
A beat.
"—nowhere. Because I have absolutely no idea where he is."
The silence held for one more second.
Then shattered.
Boran's face went through several emotions at once, none of them calm.
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"
---
Johan's POV
Johan pulled the old man out of the car, marched him across the street, and into an abandoned apartment building.
"Is this the basement?" the old man asked, voice tight.
"Obviously not." Johan glanced back at him. "If this were the basement, you'd be blindfolded by now. You can still see things. So — no."
The old man's stomach dropped.
Johan led him to the elevator and shoved him inside.
"Relax," Johan said. "The elevator's broken. So is the rest of the building. That's why it's abandoned."
"...What are you planning to do to me?"
"You?" Johan leaned against the doorframe. "Nothing. For now." He checked his phone. "I called some of my people. They're going to see you, and then—"
"Why?"
Johan was quiet for a moment.
"Because I need to prove something to them," he said finally. "I'm losing my position. Eleven years ago we got a new member — a girl. Red hair. People used to call her a monster because of it, said she was bad luck. I don't know why, but something told me to take her in anyway. So I did. Trained her myself. Looked after her, like I do with everyone." His jaw tightened slightly. "And now she's their favorite. Smartest one we've ever had. Picks up everything instantly. They've decided she should lead instead of me."
The old man frowned.
"...Why didn't you just kill her, then?"
The change in Johan was instant.
He grabbed the old man's collar, teeth clenched, eyes sharp with something close to fury.
"Are you insane? I'm not some disgusting, unfair piece of garbage."
He let go. Took a breath. Straightened his jacket.
"Let me explain," he said, calmer now. "I don't actually care if someone else takes over eventually. That's fine. What I care about is — not yet. Not like this. If she's really better than me, that shouldn't be hard for her to prove." He shrugged. "I just want to see if she's actually fit to lead. If she is, she'll find a way to deal with this. That's all this is."
The old man's whole body was trembling now, but he kept talking — he couldn't seem to stop.
"...So you want to beat her with intelligence. Not strength."
"Exactly."
"And what if—" the old man swallowed, "—what if her solution is to kill you?"
The air in the room changed.
Maybe it was just the cold of the abandoned building. But the old man saw something shift behind Johan's eyes — something simmering just under the surface, barely contained.
"Then I'd hunt her down," Johan said quietly.
Footsteps. From the hallway.
Johan's expression brightened instantly. He turned toward the sound, smiling.
"Finally! I was starting to think you guys would neve—"
He stopped.
Five men stood in the doorway.
Each one holding a knife.
Johan's smile didn't fade slowly. It just — stopped. Like someone had cut the power to it.
"...Why?"
The five men smiled back at him, raised their knives, and ran.