“Lovely aroma,” Sultan mumbled as he spritzed the clothes he had just put on with a fresh, scented perfume. Even without the perfume, he would have smelled heavenly due to the body scrub and shampoo he had used while bathing. He ran a comb through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. "Dashing," he commented, admiring the way the sweatshirt and sweatpants looked on him. He smiled satisfactorily as he picked up the tarot card from the table and slipped it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to do the deal you wanted," he mumbled to the card in his pocket. "You feel cheated, and I understand that. But I promise I'll go to your world as soon as everything is sorted out, okay?" "You've already done so much for me, and you're still doing more," Sultan continued to speak to the tarot card in his pocket. "Even if your world is a crazy one, I owe you this at least," he added, still admiring his reflection in the mirror. Earlier, Sultan had taken
"Wow," Sultan whispered to himself, his mouth watering at the sight of the large dining table, covered in a variety of sumptuous dishes. Although most of the foods were exotic and foreign to him, they smelled absolutely delicious. This was what the elite ate. "Come on, everyone, dig in," Master Watson announced as he lifted his fork. The other visitors followed suit. But Sultan hesitated. A pang of guilt twisted his stomach. He knew that he shouldn't be eating this food - it was meant for the real Young Master Watson. But he was so hungry. He looked down at his plate, feeling torn. His eyes fell on a piece of toasted bread. "Oh well," he mumbled, picking it up and taking a bite. It tasted even better than it smelled. "Hah!" he exclaimed, enjoying the taste. "Oh my goodness, this is so good!" He spoke without realizing that the rest of the table had fallen silent. When he looked up, he saw that the other guests were staring at him. His cheeks reddened. "Er... I mean... the fo
"Are you sure you want to go out and to the company, son?" Mr. Watson asked Sultan, his lips twitching as he watched Sultan get into the black Bugatti Chiron."Yes, I am not weak and I am well, so you don't need to worry," Sultan said, his tone gentle yet direct."Well, I won't stop you," Mr. Watson sighed in resignation. Mr. Watson continued, "But keep in mind that we still have a lot to discuss, Emmett."Sultan's heart skipped a beat when he heard Mr. Watson's words. He began to wonder if the man had finally realized that he wasn't his real son. "Ye-yes, Father," he stammered. "I mean to say, I understand."Mr. Watson nodded. "Good. Lugard will be with you wherever you go," he said, turning to the bodyguard who had been with Sultan before yesterday's party. Lugard nodded. "I'll make sure he's safe, Mr. Watson," he said, his voice deep and even."Thank you, Lugard," Mr. Watson said. He turned back to Sultan. "Now, don't stay out too late. And call me if you need anything."Sultan no
Immediately, Sultan found himself in the other world which he clearly remembered was called the Major Arcana world, he fell in shock beyond words and exclaimed, "Oh my God, what the hell?" He was so surprised that he couldn't keep his feet on the ground and fell, his butt hitting the ground, while his hands were on the ground, supporting his weight as he gazed at the people in front of him. When he turned his head left and right, he saw that there were even more people, and when he turned back, there were people, all around him.They were all wearing white, patterned garments, and some had faces that shimmered, making it difficult to make out their features. Some of them didn't even seem to have fully visible bodies. Sultan closed his eyes, tapping his hand on his face. “Perhaps this is all a dream, perhaps it is just my imagination running wild. This has to be and I need to get out of it,” he thought to himself. He looked around the ground for the tarot card, hoping to use it to
"Run, Ashley, run! Don't look back, just keep running!" she told herself, her breath coming out in heavy gasps as she tried to push herself faster and faster. Her eyes focused straight ahead, her arms pumping as she ran, but in spite of her efforts, she felt as if she wasn't moving fast enough. The thought that the men were gaining on her made her heart sink, and her fear began to rise.Her heart sank further as she glanced over her shoulder, only to see that the men were indeed closing in on her, their silhouettes coming into view. "Shoot!" Ashley cursed under her breath, trying to summon the last of her energy to move faster.Just then, she turned back to look forward, but it was too late. She collided with someone, her head hitting hard against their chest. "Oof!" Ashley grunted as she stumbled backward, her mind spinning with confusion, yet still scared.Despite her fear and confusion, Ashley's adrenaline-fueled instincts kicked in. In an instant, she saw an opportunity to use th
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Ashley yelled, her voice echoing in her very own ears, with a horrified gasp like a drumroll of fear. The truck hit Sultan with a powerful force, seeming to knock him off the road in an instant. Ashley watched in horror, her breath caught in her throat, until a passing car obstructed her view. When the car moved on, there was no sign of the man, no body, no blood—nothing to show that the terrifying event had even occurred.“Huh? Wait, where is he?” Confusion washed over Ashley, as her eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of the man or the blood she’d expected to find.She peered more closely at the spot where Sultan had been hit, pacing back and forth, examining the road, and then leaning forward to inspect the area for any clues, desperate to find some explanation for what had just happened. “This can’t be right,” she whispered, questioning her own sanity. “Maybe he…. But how?” she wondered speechlessly, her voice trembling with unc
“Come on, son. Are you sure you’re strong enough to keep working these long hours, from 7am to 9pm?” Mrs. Watson asked, concern etched across her face.“I’m fine, Mom, I’ll be fine,” Sultan insisted, doing his best to hide the strain he was feeling.“At least have some breakfast before you go,” she insisted.“No, Mom,” Emmett replied, forcing a smile. “I’m Emmett Watson, and I’ve got this.”“We sure raised a workaholic son. Sometimes I really wonder if you truly are our Emmett,” his father chimed in with a shake of his head, though having nothing but sincerity in his tone.Sultan's smile faltered for a moment. “I’m still your son, Dad,” he said, his voice just a bit smaller than before. The reminder of who he really was, making him a little uncomfortable.Mr. Watson's expression softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Sultan's shoulder. “I know that, son,” he said, his tone gentle.“You should at least let the maid bring you some lunch later,” Mrs. Watson interjected, her voice
“Are you sure, Young Master Watson?” a voice called out, making the crowd turn to see Martello stepping forward again.Sultan's eyebrow arched, his expression teetering on the brink of scornful amusement. “I am sure of what I say,” he replied, his tone laced with growing irritation. “I am not a child who would speak of things he does not know, or tell lies.”“How can we be sure you’re not being naive this time?” Martello questioned, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “After all, you were once a gullible young man, and now, all of a sudden, you’ve changed.”Sultan's hand tightened around the microphone, the metal cool and solid under his fingertips. “I assure you,” he said, his voice icy and controlled, “we have never met, and I have no idea why you seem to have a grudge against me.”“However,” Sultan continued, “I do have evidence to back up my claims, if you are so doubtful.”Martello’s eyes widened, his face contorting in a mixture of surprise and disdain. “You think a few forged docu