Eleanor's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze darting between Drake and the hotel director. "Royal Eleanor Hotel?" she echoed, her voice a blend of surprise and awe. Drake nodded, savoring the moment. "Yes, Ely. I wanted you to have a place where you can stay comfortably during these times, and this is it." Lucille, still grappling with the information, managed to stammer, "You... you named a hotel after her?" Drake chuckled. "Not just any hotel. This is a special place, a sanctuary for us. No harm will come to you here." “When did you prepare this?” Eleanor asked, her astonishment palpable. “Hmm, around a month ago. This was intended for your birthday, but circumstances required it now,” he replied, a hint of regret in his voice. “Where did you get the money for this?” Eleanor asked, her disbelief lingering as she tried to fathom the luxurious reality unfolding before her eyes. “My investments have been fruitful, Ely. You just have to trust me, and you'll live a carefree life,”
Drake's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Natasha Ling. She bore an uncanny resemblance to his former maid, Aunt Ling, someone he hadn't expected to encounter."Is this some kind of déjà vu?" he mused, attempting to comprehend the unexpected connection."Aunt? I don't have a nephew, though," Natasha Ling stated, confusion evident on her face."I'm sorry, but you remind me of someone I used to know." Drake stumbled, trying to gather his thoughts.Natasha Ling gave him a puzzled look. "I see. Well, Mr. Chwe, could you please take a seat? How may I assist you today?"Drake's suspicions nagged at him, yet he masked his unease with a professional demeanor. "I've been looking forward to discussing potential collaborations between our companies. Your agency comes highly recommended."Throughout the meeting, Drake found it increasingly challenging to dismiss the striking resemblance between Natasha Ling and his former maid. Her mannerisms, the subtle inflections in her voice—each deta
Drake continued walking, fully aware of the persistent presence trailing behind him. His senses, heightened by the expensive potion he regularly consumed, detected the subtle movements of his pursuer.“Why is she sending someone to follow me after firmly denying the system?” he mused.Instead of hastening his pace or glancing over his shoulder, Drake calmly navigated through labyrinthine alleys until he reached a secluded street cloaked in the eerie afternoon shadows cast by towering buildings. It was the perfect setting for a confrontation.“I'm glad I've been working out,” he muttered to himself.Turning into the desolate alley, a sly smile touched his face. The mysterious follower hesitated but followed him into the shadows.“Gotcha!”Drake whirled around abruptly, facing the pursuer who stepped into the secluded area with a concealed face. Unable to recognize the three men, Drake's eyes narrowed."Too bad I don't care what your purpose is," he remarked, his voice devoid of fear. "
Drake's suspicion only intensified as Natasha remained silent, unfazed by his inquiries. Despite his probing questions, she chose to keep quiet, sitting calmly within the confines of the prison.“Really… who are you?”He observed her, noting her composed demeanor, which only fueled his doubts. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha than she was letting on.As the minutes ticked by in the oppressive silence of the prison, his mind raced with suspicions.He glanced around at the other prisoners, each carrying an air of despair. They seemed resigned to their fate, accepting the grim reality of their situation.Drake's thoughts lingered on Natasha, puzzled by her nonchalance amidst the dire circumstances. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he leaned closer to her cell, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. "Hey, why are you so calm? How do you know so much about this place and its workings?"Natasha met his gaze with a steady look but offered no response. Her
Drake plummeted through the darkness, his heart racing as the air rushed past him. The descent seemed endless, and the realization that he hadn't considered the height of the ceiling hit him like a ton of bricks. Panic fueled his descent, and he flailed through the air, desperately trying to find something to grab onto. Just as the terror threatened to overwhelm him, he crashed through a wooden platform. The impact wasn't as harsh as he expected, and he found himself in a dimly lit room, surrounded by crates and barrels. “Ugh! I didn't sign up for this!” Drake groaned, feeling aches and pains from the fall, but relief washed over him—he was alive. As he took in his surroundings, Drake noticed a group of people huddled in a corner, engaged in an intense discussion. They looked oblivious to his sudden entrance, their attention absorbed in a makeshift map spread out on the floor. "Are you here to join?" a voice hissed from the shadows, making Drake jump. He turned to see a wiry figur
Drake gasped for air, scrambling back onto his feet. The revelation that Bob, the alleged leader of the resistance, was actually the true mafia sent shockwaves through him. As Bob ruthlessly carried out a massacre among his resistance members, Drake realized he had to flee.“Sh*t! I need to find the small gaps,” he muttered, hastily leaving the room. He darted through various rooms, desperately searching for a gap on the floor.“Finally!” he exclaimed, spotting a small opening after shoving a cabinet aside. He jumped in, only to find himself on another lower floor of the same level.“This isn't it! I should land in another high-ceilinged space,” he muttered. “Hmm, is that the one?”Thinking on his feet, Drake noticed a small opening nearby. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards it and leaped into the gap, squeezing himself through to the floor below. As he descended, the chaotic sounds above reverberated, accompanied by Bob's maniacal laughter echoing through the structure.“Kid! Wh
Drake, anticipating his return home, was bewildered to discover that the supposed exit led to a dead end. "Is there a secret door or something?" he pondered, scanning the area. His confusion heightened as he stumbled upon a border with a cryptic message inscribed on it.Reading it aloud, he muttered, "Welcome, tribute system users! This is the bottom area of this magnificent structure. The only way out here…"Drake's nonchalant expression transformed into a scowl as he continued reading. "The only way out is the top? That's right, but didn't Natasha say the bottom was actually the top and the top was the bottom? This… this doesn't make sense!"Crouching down to scrutinize the message, Drake finished reading to finally understand why Natasha wanted him to destroy the power source."The only way out is the top. The exit won't open unless you users destroy the power source located here in the bottom. However, once the power source breaks, the floors beginning from top to bottom will self
Drake massaged his temples upon hearing the news that everyone believed he had died merely because they found his belongings near a recently discovered corpse."Where's the funeral?" he inquired.Angarde immediately gestured towards the hotel's hall. "We used the event hall, as many wanted to see your wake.""Many?" he frowned. "I only have three specific people who will surely sob at my wake."Angarde didn't know how to respond, so he simply guided Drake inside the hall. As they entered, loud gasps echoed, and all eyes widened upon seeing Drake alive."Sorry about my appearance," he began, noting he was covered in mud from literally being more than six feet under the ground. "You may all leave now; sorry for the inconvenience."Everyone remained stunned, unable to process what was happening. Drake seized the opportunity to scan their faces, recognizing those the same people who had attended his fake funeral."These people will remain the same," he commented, his eyes landing on the r