He turned and left the room, his anger still simmering like an unquenchable fire.But then, he turned back with a stern glare, his voice commanding and unwavering, "Dismissed! I demand results, and you have 48 hours to scour every nook and cranny of this city and deliver to me the lifeless likeness of Ryan, our elusive target." The henchmen felt the heavy burden of their mistake. They knew they had a huge task ahead, and the reminder of their failure hung over them like a shadow they couldn't shake.As the echo of Mr. Smith's receding footsteps diminished down the dim corridor, the henchmen exchanged uneasy glances, acutely aware of the gravity of their situation. Their leader, a portrait of unyielding determination etched upon his face, took the helm. "We understand the path that lies ahead. It's time to regroup and put the revised plan into action. There's no room for mistakes this time."In unison, heads nodded a silent but resolute pledge to uphold the weighty responsibility that

As Ryan slowly regained consciousness, he heard a soothing voice that gently welcomed him, pulling him out of the hazy fog of unconsciousness. Everything around him felt strange, and he was overwhelmed by a deep sense of confusion. With a trembling voice, he asked, "Where am I? How did I end up here?" His words were filled with uncertainty as he struggled to understand his situation. The person who spoke to him, a reassuring figure in the dimly lit room, calmly introduced himself, saying, "I'm Evans, and you can call me your savior." "Savior?" Ryan repeated, his brow furrowing. "Yes, savior. You can call me your savior because I saved you," Evans reassured with a kind and gentle smile. Ryan's head throbbed with pain, and his thoughts were a chaotic mess. He knew he needed rest to make sense of the fragments of his memory. "Get some rest," Evans suggested. "We'll talk when you're feeling stronger." Grateful for the offer, Ryan closed his eyes, surrendering to exhaustion. As he d

Ryan accepted this, however with some reluctance. He was beginning to realize that he had to be patient, even though every fiber of his being yearned for clarity. Maybe Mr Evans wasn’t a demon after all but some kind of guardian angel.The meal continued in silence for a while, and both of them seemed to be lost in thought. Mr. Evans looked like he was having a whole conversation in his head. “What the hell is this man not saying out loud!” Ryan’s inner being kept screaming. The room seemed to close in on them, increasing the anticipation that hung in the air, on Ryan’s side especially.Ryan, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, finally spoke up. His eyes blinked repeatedly in curiosity. "Mr. Evans, who is the man in the picture frame? The one with the same wristwatch as mine. What's his connection to all of this?"Mr. Evans put down his food once more and considered Ryan's question. “You asked this the other time and I let you understand that it’s not time for revealing the

Mr. Smith couldn't find a moment's peace in his own home, as he paced back and forth wondering what was up at the moment. “Those idiots, I gave them a little job and they blew it, they blew it all up! Animals!” He kept roaring as anxious thoughts raced through his mind relentlessly. What if Ryan had gone to the police? What if he ended up in a hospital because of those bruises? And what would he say when questioned about the situation? The weight of his decisions bore down on him, and he kept wondering who had intervened. Turner and Lewis were his suspects, they were the only pussies who didn’t support Ryan’s death.As he continued to pace, his restlessness did not go unnoticed by his concerned wife. She gently asked, "Darling, what's bothering you? You're so restless. Is anything the matter? Is it something I can help with?" She asked with deep concern etched on her face.His mind was full of the worries that clouded him, Mr. Smith simply replied, "It's work stuff," and left the

They continued to talk while he ate, but Turner deftly avoided explaining the full reason for his late-night absence. After breakfast, as he prepared to leave, he gave his wife a gentle kiss goodbye and said, "I'll make it up to you and Emily tonight. Don't worry." With that, he headed out for the office, leaving some of his concerns unspoken and hoping that night wouldn't be as hectic as the other. Turner knew he had intended to work on some files with Emily, he, however, trusted his daughter to handle the task all by herself. Thoughts of how to face Mr. Smith and Mr. Robert, who seemed to be scheming against Ryan and had already concluded he was the negative person on the team briefly crossed his mind. Swiftly, he shook off those concerns with a quick shake of his head and convinced himself that everything would be alright. He entered his car, gave a deep sigh, and drove to the Regals. Upon arriving at the office, Turner made his way toward his personal office. As he app