2024-12-05 09:30:00However, those words seemed futile. There was no response, and the room became increasingly restless. Some whispers became louder. "Where is Arkanza?" someone asked from the back.
The atmosphere changed instantly. All eyes turned to Adam, and his face immediately turned pale. Everyone knew that this was not normal. Arkanza was a child who had been closely guarded, and it was impossible for her to disappear without anyone noticing.
However, before Adam could give any further orders, a bigger commotion broke out. Someone rushed forward, a tall man with long hair, wearing striking black clothes among the more formally dressed guests. "Adam Smith!" he shouted. "Where is Arkanza?!"
The crowd became chaotic. Some people tried to avoid the scene, while others started running away. Adam tried to calm the situation, but the uproar grew larger. The Victors, who had infiltrated as uninvited guests, began to move in an organized manner. They knew that Arkanza's whereabouts
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The question hung in the air, intensifying the already tense atmosphere. Adam tried to remain calm, but his gaze began to sharpen. "No, this is not part of our tradition," he answered loudly, trying to quell his confusion. "Arkanza will come. It’s just a matter of time."However, more and more people started doubting Adam’s words. The guests whispered among themselves, some beginning to retreat, while others grew increasingly uneasy. What was once a well-organized gathering had now turned into a chaotic mess. Amidst the confusion, the Victor members, who had not revealed their identities, continued moving through the room, further exacerbating the situation with their sharp words and gazes, fueling the tension. They didn’t force themselves into the spotlight but merely provoked enough to keep the unease simmering, heightening the discomfort among the elders and guests present.Valerin stood by the large window, her eyes unable to avoid the restless lo
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Arkanza stood in the middle of the open area, sweat beading on his temples as he focused on every movement of his body. His frame was still slender and fragile from years of physical neglect, but now, it was starting to show signs of determination. His movements were measured, though not yet fluid; each step reminded him of how far he still had to go to build the strength he had lacked for so long. His breath was steady, though he occasionally gasped as he pushed his limits.The young man had decided that today would be a new starting point. No longer would he let his physical weaknesses define him. The doubts that had haunted him for so long—about his self-worth, about his place in the world—would no longer control him. The pressure to prove himself was immense, but today, he wanted to take steps toward self-empowerment.Albert, his loyal protector, stood a few steps behind, watching Arkanza with a mix of concern and admiration. The man had seen Arkanza gr
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In the grand room of the Smith family house, the elders gathered, their faces serious and anxious. Soft lights illuminated the high ceilings, casting shadows over the faces filled with both hope and concern. They sat in a circle around a long table, with Adam Smith at the head, appearing firm, but there was an underlying unease in his demeanor. In front of him, several family elders and advisors spoke in urgent tones."Lord Adam, this is more than just a personal matter," said one elder, an old man with a long white beard. "Arkanza must return immediately. His coming-of-age ceremony is a crucial event for this family, not just for his future, but for the legacy of the family."Another elder, a middle-aged woman with a stern expression, added, "We can’t wait any longer. The Lev Bodgan family will begin to suspect if Arkanza continues to avoid this. They will start doubting our strength as leaders."Adam remained silent, his hands clenched on the table. He k
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Here is the translation of your requested scene:In the bathroom, hidden behind thick silk curtains, the sound of running water could be heard softly. Arkanza stood beneath the shower, letting the warm water flow over his tired body after a long practice. His once fragile body now showed signs of change, though it wasn't fully strong yet. However, for the first time in his life, he felt better, more alive. Each drop of water that soaked his skin seemed to wash away the anxiety that had haunted him for so long.Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Albert and Milan worked quickly, preparing everything that Arkanza would need. Albert, with his vast experience, selected the most appropriate clothing for the event. He carefully observed the traditional Smith family attire that Arkanza would wear—a fine robe with colors representing the status and strength of their family.Milan, who was younger and often impatient, watched intently from the side, his eyes fi
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As the main ceremony of the coming-of-age event concluded, the hall was abuzz with festivities. Guests mingled, laughter filled the air, and the clinking of glasses echoed throughout the room. The transition from a sacred ritual to a lively celebration was seamless, but amidst the vibrant atmosphere, Arkanza felt a growing heaviness in his chest.He excused himself discreetly, stepping away from the crowd, his formal attire brushing against the walls of the quiet hallway. His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked toward the garden outside, seeking solace away from the noise. The cool night air greeted him as he reached a secluded corner of the estate. Tall hedges surrounded the small clearing, and the faint sound of crickets filled the silence.Arkanza leaned against a marble bench, exhaling deeply. The weight of the evening bore down on him—not just the expectations but the lingering sense of inadequacy that had haunted him for so long. He rubbed his temple, trying to shake off the s
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Milan stood at the corner of the balcony, his figure concealed by the shadows of the night. From his vantage point, he could see most of the guests still mingling in the grand hall. His sharp eyes scanned for any suspicious movements, his arms folded across his chest. On the other side of the balcony, Vikram appeared with calm steps, approaching him. “I’m back,” Vikram said softly, stopping a few steps away from Milan. “It’s them.” Milan briefly shifted his gaze, acknowledging Vikram’s presence. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice cold and cautious. Vikram nodded, his expression serious. “Yes. I recognize a few faces from old reports. They’re not trying very hard to hide, but they’re blending in well enough with the guests.” Milan refocused on the hall. “So, they’ve infiltrated right under our noses. Viktor is truly bold.” Vikram sighed, folding his arms. “They’re not just bold; they’re smart. They know when to act. I suspect they’re waiting for something.” “Waiting for wh
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The room was silent, accompanied only by the faint sound of leaves rustling outside the window. Moonlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the figure of a young man lying weakly on his grand bed. Arkanza looked pale, cold sweat soaking his forehead. His breaths were short, his body trembling despite the thick blanket covering him.Beside him, Albert sat with a serious expression. The man was a few years older than Arkanza, with neatly combed brown hair and sharp, cautious eyes. In Albert's hand was a damp cloth, which he occasionally pressed against Arkanza’s forehead, trying to bring down his dangerously high fever.“Arkanza…,” Albert muttered softly, as if calling out to his master, trapped in his weakened state. “This fever is strange. Unusual.”Albert took a deep breath, then moved his hand to Arkanza’s wrist. The skin there was paler than the rest of his body. A faint purplish line had formed around his veins. Albert narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding.“T
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Vikram had begun his search earlier that evening, particularly after spotting a suspicious figure moving swiftly through the crowd of guests before vanishing. Trusting his instincts, he stepped out and made his way toward the back garden. The area was dark and silent, illuminated only by faint oil lamps hanging in several corners. The night breeze whispered softly, causing the leaves around the garden to rustle gently.At the far end of the yard, Vikram noticed a figure standing with his back turned, draped in a long black cloak that stood out starkly amidst such a festive occasion. His movements were uneasy, as though he was waiting for orders or ensuring something. When the figure turned around, Vikram froze in surprise—the face was one he recognized. “Roy!?” Vikram’s voice cut through the silence. The figure flinched, instinctively stepping back as his hand reached for something hidden beneath his cloak. Under the dim light, his face was now unmistakable—Roy, Vikram’s comrade f
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That night, after the meeting at the warehouse, Barak sat on his motorcycle, staring at the dark sky. He knew Milan and Raka were hiding something, and he wouldn’t stop until he found out what it was.If they wanted to keep him away from Arkanza, he would do the opposite.He pulled out his phone and called someone. Someone who knew more about Milan than Milan himself."I need information," Barak said as soon as the call connected. "About Milan."The person on the other end chuckled before replying, "I’m curious, Barak. Are you trying to play at a higher level?"Barak smirked. "I just want to make sure someone knows who’s really betraying him."The next day, Barak deliberately waited in front of the campus. He knew Arkanza would pass through here, and he made sure to look relaxed, as if nothing had happened.Soon enough, Arkanza appeared, accompanied by Milan and Albert.Milan immediately tensed up upon seeing Barak. His eyes narrowed as if ready to confront him.But Barak didn’t give
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Barak stood in front of his bike, eyes locked onto the threatening message scrawled across the fuel tank. The paint was still fresh, its sharp scent mixing with the cool night air. Whoever did this wanted him to feel intimidated.They wanted him to stop.But they clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.Barak exhaled sharply, pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over Milan’s contact, debating whether to confront him directly. Milan was the most obvious suspect—he had the motive, the connection to Arkanza, and the possessiveness that made him capable of something like this.But if it wasn’t Milan… then who?“Yo, Barak!” One of his club members, Niko, called out from the other side of the garage. “What’s up with your ride?”Barak turned, pushing his irritation down. He had no intention of showing weakness. “Just some asshole messing around,” he said coolly.Niko walked over, his eyes narrowing at the red spray paint. “Shit. Someone’s got a grudge against you?”Barak shrugge
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The motorcycle club's basecamp was still filled with the pounding beats of music and casual chatter when Barak decided to leave early that night. Normally, he would stay longer, discussing race plans or just hanging out with his friends. But this time, his mind was occupied with one thing—Arkanza.As he stepped out of the large warehouse that served as their headquarters, he felt something strange. The night air was colder than usual, and there was an eerie sensation, as if someone was watching him. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes scan the surroundings. Their warehouse was in a fairly secluded area, surrounded by old, rarely occupied buildings. There was no one there except for his club members, but for some reason, his skin prickled.Quickly dismissing the feeling, Barak walked toward his motorcycle. He grabbed his helmet, but before he could put it on, something caught his attention.On the fuel tank of his bike, there was something that shouldn’t be there.A black envelope
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In a spacious room filled with the pounding sound of rock music and the distinct scent of gasoline, Barak sat on one of the slightly worn leather sofas. This place was his basecamp, a large warehouse that had been transformed into headquarters for the motorcycle community he led.Around him, several members of the motorcycle club were lounging—some were dismantling a motorcycle engine, others were joking around, while a few leaned back, enjoying their cold drinks."I still don’t get it," said Awan, one of his friends sitting across from Barak. He lifted a nearly empty soda can before taking a sip. "Why are you suddenly after Arkanza? I mean, you already have everything—money, a cool bike, high social status. You can be friends with anyone."Barak chuckled, placing his phone on the table before leaning back into the sofa. "I just want to be friends, bro. Is that a problem?"Awan scoffed. "With Arkanza?""Yeah.""Are you serious?""Of course," Barak replied casually, shrugging. "He caug
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Milan stood at the edge of a tall building, directly facing Arkanza's classroom. His sharp eyes were glued to the high-tech binoculars in his hands, observing every movement inside. The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the building, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. His focus remained on one thing—Arkanza.However, something else caught his attention.Barak.That guy was still lingering around Arkanza, like a shadow that refused to leave. Milan let out a sharp breath, clicking his tongue in irritation. For the past few days, Barak had been sticking close to their young master, and it made him uneasy.Beside him, Vikram sat casually on a wooden crate, enjoying his meal in peace. The plastic spoon in his hand clinked against the food container, creating a soft, repetitive sound."Arkanza will be fine," Vikram muttered between bites, not even looking up from his meal. "You're overreacting, Milan."Milan lowered his binoculars for a moment, shooting a sharp gla
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The autumn wind blew gently across the campus courtyard as Arkanza stepped into the main building. His steps were calm as always, his face devoid of any visible emotion. Today was supposed to be just another ordinary day after returning from the study tour to the protected forest. However, as soon as he opened his personal locker, something cliché happened once again.Inside the locker, where his spare clothes and a few personal belongings should have been, Arkanza found his white shirt completely shredded. Fabric scraps were scattered across the locker floor, as if someone had deliberately taken a pair of scissors and cut it into tiny pieces. Some parts were even tattered, as though they had been destroyed with pure hatred.Arkanza sighed.No surprise, no anger—just exhaustion weighing on his chest."What is this? The usual setting, huh," he muttered quietly before calmly shutting the locker door again.From the end of the corridor, Barak happened to be passing by and saw the inciden
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The gentle breeze blew softly, carrying the scent of damp earth and aging leaves. The morning sunlight filtered through the gaps between the lush trees, creating shifting patterns of light on the protected forest floor.Arkanza walked among the group of university students participating in the study tour. Their university had organized a trip to the protected forest near campus as part of an ecology and environmental awareness program. Each student was placed in a group selected by lottery.Arkanza didn’t really care who was in his group. He just wanted to complete the trip without much trouble. However, when he glanced at the other groups, he saw Norman with his usual noisy and cheerful friends.From the beginning, Norman had looked at him with a mocking smile."Hey, look who’s strolling around with his bodyguards," Norman said in a sarcastic tone.Some of Norman’s friends laughed."Seriously, bro. You’re like a national asset. Always escorted everywhere, just like a president," one
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The night breeze drifted gently through the gaps in the window, causing the white curtains to sway faintly. In the dimly lit room, Arkanza lay with steady breaths, but sweat beaded on his forehead. His usually calm face appeared slightly tense, his brows furrowed, and unconsciously, his fingers clenched atop the blanket.In his dream, he was transported back to his old life—a world he had long left behind.Arkanza stood in the center of a spacious room, a grand crystal chandelier shimmering above him. The walls were adorned with expensive paintings, and the air carried the mixed scent of cigars and the metallic tang of weapons resting in the corners.He wore a well-fitted black suit over a crisp white shirt, absent of a tie. His expression was cold, devoid of emotion.Around him, several men sat at ease, sipping red wine poured by a loyal attendant. They were his subordinates—men who had followed him through the shadows of the underworld. Among them was Dante, the burly bodyguard, Gab
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The air in the room was piercing, gripping the bones down to the marrow. The windowless concrete walls reinforced the stifling, enclosed atmosphere, while the dim yellow light overhead flickered gloomily. There was no heater, no blanket—only the merciless cold gnawing at the body.Arkanza stood in the middle of the room, his hands bound above his head by iron chains hanging from the ceiling. His wrists burned from the rough friction of the cold metal. His breathing was ragged, but not from fear—rather, from the fury boiling inside him.In front of him, Adam stood with a leather whip in his hand. His face was devoid of expression, only sharp eyes radiating full dominance. Albert and Milan stood in the corner of the room, their faces tense, yet they dared not defy their master's orders.Adam stepped closer, the sound of his shoes echoing in the room."Tell me what you did at school," his voice was cold and intimidating.Arkanza lifted his head, glaring at Adam with pure hatred. "I did n