The café's ambiance had shifted from intense revelations to a determined resolve. Greg and John stood up from their table, ready to delve deeper into the mysteries entwining Behav Pharmaceuticals and the enigmatic Faith company."Okay, Master. I will make sure to find more information about the building, and also where Bradley and Karel went this morning," John affirmed, his voice brimming with determination as he held the door open for Greg.Greg acknowledged John's commitment with a nod. "Good. Additionally, please focus on uncovering the relationship between Karel and Faith. It could provide us with a trail leading to Bradley's covert activities and his dealings with the executives. Search for information in old archives; Karel strikes me as someone who values tradition."John respectfully bowed, a silent testament to his unwavering dedication. "Understood, Master."As they readied to leave the café, John hesitated for a fleeting moment, before clearing his throat. "Ah, Master, do
The atmosphere was tense in the dimly lit alley. The footsteps drew nearer, echoing through the narrow passage. Greg, without a moment's hesitation, spun around, his heart racing, and his gun leveled at the approaching figure. His voice was sharp and demanding."Who are you? What do you want, and why do you—"But before Greg could finish his words, his voice faltered, and he was left in stunned silence with his gun still aimed.Before him stood..."Dylan?" Greg's voice wavered as he spoke, his grip on the gun slackening slightly. His position was unchanged, gun pointed toward the figure, but his face held a mixture of shock and disbelief.In the dim light of the alley, Dylan's form became more distinct, and the tension between them thickened. Dylan's position mirrored Greg's, his own gun aimed at Greg, finger hovering near the trigger. His face displayed a similar shock, his eyes wide and uncomprehending.The seconds hung heavily between them, each man locked in a stand-off of disbel
Huff! Huff! Huff!The alley was a labyrinth of darkness, its narrow confines casting shadows that swallowed the feeble glow of the streetlights. In this dimly lit maze, a figure clad in a smart secretary outfit dashed through the silence, her footsteps echoing in her ears like the pounding of a drum. She occasionally glanced over her shoulder, paranoia and fear etched across her face."Did I lose them?" she thought, her breath ragged.As she ran, the alley stretched on endlessly, revealing no one in pursuit. The secretary figure, however, had no intention of slowing down; she couldn't afford to. Not until she reached a place to hide and catch her breath.Finally, she spotted a small alcove, an unassuming gap in the brick wall that led into a tiny space between two buildings. It was a place that seemed custom-made for a desperate fugitive seeking refuge.Without hesitation, she rushed into the alcove, seeking refuge in its narrow embrace. Her back pressed against the cool rough bricks,
In the VIP Room of St. Clare's Hospital, Karel now found himself humming softly as he prepared to check out. His comfortable hospital gown is now already changed with Behav's white lab coat with a pin that pinning on the collar."Well, it's time for me to go now," Karel mused to himself as he adjusted his tie. "The short time in the hospital was surprisingly enjoyable. Even the bed was comfier than mine."As he stood before the mirror, Karel meticulously ensured that everything about his appearance was perfect for his departure. His fingers danced gracefully, adjusting his tie and smoothing out every wrinkle with practiced ease.Then, just as he thought everything was perfect, Karel's gaze suddenly fell upon his forehead.There was a sizable bruise adorned the side of his forehead, marring his otherwise impeccable appearance."Huh, that's a pretty big one," Karel mused aloud as he examined the discolored skin. "Did I bump that hard?"Karel pondered for a moment if he should ask the n
As they continued their ascent up the narrow staircase, Dylan's commentary grew increasingly intense. Dylan now even begins to compare the aged apartment building to an underground prison!"Honestly, Greg, this place is worse than an underground prison! Who would willingly choose to live here? It's beyond me!" Dylan remarked, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and disdain.Greg, who had grown accustomed to Dylan's unending comments, couldn't help but let out a weary sigh. 'Ugh… It's been 10 minutes since we climbed the stairs… How come he has so much energy to comment? Doesn't he feel tired or something?' Greg mused silently as he continued to ascend the creaking staircase.However, despite Dylan's relentless commentary, Greg had no intention of stopping him. In fact, he found himself oddly grateful for it. By Dylan talking non-stop like this, that means, Things were starting to return back to normal.'At least he's back to being talkative. It's been kind of weird having a real
“Are you looking for the old shabby man?” the elderly woman inquired, her voice fragile and wavering as she spoke.Greg and Dylan exchanged uncertain glances as they heard the question. It seems that they had caught the attention of one of the building’s long-time residents.Clearing his throat, Greg replied politely to her. “Yes, that’s right. We’re here to see the old man. Do you know where he is now?” he asked.The elderly woman regarded them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, her watery eyes darting between Greg and Dylan. She seemed to take her time considering her response.“The old man? Well… he’s usually here, but I don’t know why he’s not here today. Perhaps he's gone out somewhere?” she said.Hearing that, Dylan, who had been silent until now, couldn't help but feel curious and began to interject. “Gone out? Hmm, do you perhaps know when he might come back? Because you see, we were supposed to meet him today… Is it possible that he might be back at night?”The elderl
Morning at Havenwood Estate.KRINGGG!!! KRINGGG!!! TAK!Greg's consciousness reluctantly emerged from the depths of sleep as his alarm blared. He fumbled for his phone, his hand eventually finding its way to the dismiss button. Slowly, he raised the device, squinting at the blinding screen. It proudly displayed the time, and the sight of "8 a.m." sent a jolt of realization through him. He needed to prepare for another day at Behav.An audible groan escaped Greg's lips as he shifted into his cozy bed. The morning laziness clung to him, refusing to let go. His stomach, on the other hand, churned with discontent, serving as an unwelcome reminder of the drinks he'd indulged in the previous night, all thanks to Dylan's bet."Why did I even accept that bet, knowing I'd have to face the office today…" Greg pondered, his thoughts trailing off into the realm of regrets.After lingering beneath the covers for a while longer, Greg finally summoned the determination to extricate himself from the
The bus trundled along the city streets, its rattling noises filling the space along with the hushed conversations of its passengers. At first, Greg had been planning to move from his current spot since the person sitting next to him seemed to forget about personal space, their elbow repeatedly brushing against him. He frowned, growing increasingly annoyed by the intrusion into his personal space.However, just as he was about to shift away, his intention changed abruptly as he heard those words."But seriously, I don't understand... How could a person be so cruel to murder an elderly that live alone in an apartment?" .Greg immediately stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard those words. 'A murder?' he thought, his curiosity piqued. He decided to stop and eavesdrop on their conversation.“I don’t know, but you see these days, there are so many crazy people out there. A lot of sick people always seem to love to murder old folks who live alone in apartments…” "I know about that, bu