After my training session, I returned to my room, took off my clothes, and got into the shower.
I stood under the running water, watching as it drenched my entire body, from my hair to my toes. After cleaning up, I stood in front of the mirror and let out a sigh. I wasn’t able to hit a single target. I managed to shoot near the apple and received a complint for that, but it isn’t enough.
Looking into the mirror, my reflection stared back at as my eyes dropped to my chest. Ruby was right; my boobs had gotten bigger, and I’ve been feeling back pain for days now. Is this the second stage of puberty that girls go through?
I hope they don’t get any bigger than this.
The door to my room opened, and I heard footsteps.
"Ara? Ara?" Nanny Samantha called.
"Yes, I am here," I answered.
"Are you in the bathroom?"
"Yes." I quickly took a towel, wrapped it around my body, and stepped into my room.
"Your hair needs drying," she said, grabbing a towel and moving behind to dry my hair.
"Thank you," I muttered.
"Let’s go to the dressing table." She led over, grabbed the hair dryer, and began to dry my hair.
"Why are you here?" I asked, looking at her through the mirror. "You called."
"Oh yes, Bryce is here; he just arrived."
"Already?" I looked at her.
"Yes, he’s having a drink at the bar and wants you to co down."
"Okay, thank you."
After drying my hair, I didn’t bother putting on a bra or panties. I wore a comfortable matching set of blouse and joggers, then went down to the bar area, where I found Bryce behind the bar.
"Do you mind?" He asked as soon as I walked in.
"No, I don’t enjoy strong drinks," I refused.
"You’ll like this one," he said.
I took a seat in front of him. "Really?"
He remained silent and instead brought out three or four different drinks, mixed them, and pushed one toward .
"Taste it," he said.
I took the drink and had a sip. It was hot on my tongue at first, but after a mont, the heat faded, replaced by a pleasant sweetness.
I moaned, "It’s nice." I finished the drink and handed him the cup for another.
"I can’t; it’ll make you tipsy," he said, not looking at .
"Okay." I cleared my throat, still enjoying the sweet taste lingering on my tongue. I wanted to try it again, but I doubted Bryce would make another.
He emptied a bottle of whiskey and took out a new one.
"About the room," he started, "and what you saw in that room."
"Yes." I turned my attention to him again. I was the one who called him here; for so reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my ti spent locked in the hidden room. Every ti I tried to push the thought aside, it only got worse.
I need an explanation.
"This house used to belong to soone else," he began. "The general. It belonged to him, and those things you saw are his."
"Everything I saw in that place?"
"Yes."
"And are those gold bars real?"
"They are."
I gasped.
"Those skeletons you saw were watchn; they guarded the gold bars. They protected the gold and kept thieves away. They died protecting the gold."
"Woah," I gasped again.
"Who is the general? Is he still alive? And how long are you planning to leave the gold there?"
"The general?" He huffed and took another sip. "The general is Sebastian. General Sebastian owns the gold, and the watchn were his n. He made a promise to them—to take care of their families and their descendants if they kept the gold safe from thieves."
"The governnt and so thieves raided most of his houses in search of the gold bars twenty years ago. To protect his wealth, he recruited his most trusted n; they sacrificed their lives for him," he recited.
General Sebastian. Is he Bryce’s grandfather? Since it’s been twenty years, it’s likely.
"Is... General Sebastian still alive?" I asked again.
"Yup."
"He is?" My eyes widened.
"Hmmm."
"So why isn’t he taking his gold?" From what I saw, the rooms haven’t been touched in many years. His wealth must be important to him; why hasn’t he taken it?"
He looked at . "He doesn’t need them."
"He doesn’t need them?" I huffed. Those gold bars are worth trillions; he could be the richest man in the world. Why doesn’t he need them?
"General Sebastian is still alive, right?" I asked yet again.
"Yes."
"Then... Is he too old? Does he have mory loss? Is he crippled? What happened to him? I’m very curious."
Bryce didn’t respond imdiately and continued drinking. Why is he drinking so much? Did sothing happen to him?
After about three shots, he finally looked at . "General Sebastian is still alive and well; he doesn’t need the money because he already has enough."
I’m so curious about who this man is. The wealth he stored here could solve world poverty. If he doesn’t need it, why not donate it? If he has enough, he should consider giving it away.
He might die without ever touching the money.
"Can you tell more about General Sebastian? What kind of person is he? Please, give the details," I requested, but he responded sharply.
"No! You don’t need to know more about him. Get him out of your mind. Do not think about him or his wealth. Pretend you never saw it," he warned.
Huh.
"I ca here because I thought explaining it to you in person would help you follow my instructions. Do not go near that room; it’s best you forget everything you saw there." He finished his drink, stood up, grabbed his phone, and started leaving the room. But before he could step out, I stopped him.
"Is General Sebastian your grandfather?" I asked.
I heard him sigh from the door. "He is my father."
He answered and quickly disappeared before I could ask another question.
General Sebastian is his father? This is crazy.
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