Morning light washed over the grand gates of the Wraithbourne mansion, soft and golden, as if the house itself had decided to wake gently.
The doorbell rang.
Celina opened the door, her hair loosely tied, still carrying the quiet comfort of ho rather than the sharp polish of the office. Her eyes widened just a little before curving into a smile.
"Miles?"
He stood there relaxed, hands in his pockets. "Celina? Not going to work today?"
She leaned against the doorfra. "I was. Then I heard a friend is visiting, so I stayed. After joining the office, it is not really every day that your friends co ho."
Miles chuckled as he stepped inside.
The mansion felt alive again. Not loud, not busy. Just warm.
"Good morning Uncle Victor," Miles said as he entered the living room.
Victor sat on the couch, newspaper folded beside him, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked up and smiled. "Good morning young man. Have a seat."
A staff mber quietly served coffee. The aroma filled the room, calm and inviting.
Miles took the cup. "How are you uncle? Last ti I ca here, it was for urgent things, so I could not talk to you properly. I apologize."
Victor laughed softly. "It is rare to see your generation talking like that. It makes happy. We are all good here. Especially after dad ca back. Tell about you."
Miles nodded. "We are all doing great."
Victor relaxed into the couch. "That relieves ."
He studied Miles for a mont, then spoke again. "Tell . What is it that you want to talk to him about so early in the morning?"
Miles did not hesitate. "It is sothing related to my grandfather, Timothy Sterling. I want to know about him. That is all."
Victor raised his brows slightly, then smiled. "I guess I should not interfere then."
Celina nodded quickly. "Yes dad, you should not. Hm."
Miles smiled at their exchange.
Celina turned toward him, curiosity soft in her eyes. "Tell about the cuties. How are they doing?"
"They are growing up," Miles said. "They are doing well. Asher talks about science all the ti, and Hope is interested in art. They are good students too."
Celina sighed dramatically. "Hey, do not let them grow up so early."
Victor chuckled. "What are you even saying?"
Miles shook his head with a faint smile. "It is not like they will be grown up by tomorrow. There is still ti. I want them to enjoy their childhood properly."
Victor nodded thoughtfully. "Children are the real joy in a family when they are little."
Celina frowned. "Hey dad, what do you an by that."
Miles laughed. "You are right Uncle Victor."
Celina crossed her arms. "Hey. You are the sa age as ."
"That is different," Miles replied calmly.
Celina narrowed her eyes. "How."
A voice cut through the room, deep and steady.
"I knew you would co to et ,Miles."
Celina turned instantly. "Grandpa."
Miles stood up at once, posture straight, respectful.
"Good morning, General."
Wilfred looked at Miles for a long second, the steam from his morning tea curling between them like a thin veil.
"Good morning, son. Co with ."
Celina and Victor exchanged a quiet look in the living room. Miles glanced at them both, questioning. Victor gave a small nod, calm and permissive.
Miles followed Wilfred into the drawing room. The door closed softly behind them, sealing the space into sothing heavier, more private.
Wilfred did not waste ti.
"Tell . This is about Silverline City, right."
Miles answered honestly. "Yes. I want to ask you for what purpose you t Basil Jefferson."
Wilfred turned slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. "So you are tracking now."
"It is not like that, General," Miles said calmly. "I am tracking the Jeffersons. It was unexpected that you would et him."
Wilfred sighed, the sound carrying old fatigue. "I was there only to ask about your grandfather."
Miles stiffened slightly. "So it is about him. I knew it. Is he there. In Silverline."
"I thought the sa," Wilfred replied. "But no. Basil said he never t Timothy after his wife died."
Miles's eyes sharpened. "He was lying, right."
"I do not know," Wilfred admitted. "But I did not co back empty handed."
Miles frowned. "What do you an."
"He told about the eting," Wilfred said slowly, watching Miles closely. "And about your plan to go to the Sylven Forest with them."
Miles's eyebrows rose. "He told you that."
"Yes," Wilfred said. "Listen to , son. Why are you really going there. That place is very risky. From what I know, your grandfather went there once. And I heard he was the last person who actually returned."
Miles inhaled sharply. "When did that happen."
"A very long ti ago," Wilfred replied. "Maybe when you were born."
Miles exhaled. "So we do not know where he is. Alive or dead."
"No," Wilfred said quietly.
"Do not worry about the Sylven Forest or the treasure hunters," Miles said. "I have a plan."
Wilfred studied him, then sighed. "Alright. Basil asked what you are actually planning."
Miles's voice rose, sharp and cold. "Basil. I do not care about him. He ddled in my affairs last ti in Citadel City. I even let his son go after he tried to kill . That was his last warning. Next ti, if I sense anything against , I am not going to keep loose ends. So if you talk to him again, tell him this. If he needs sothing, he can co and stand in front of . Or go to hell."
Wilfred smiled faintly. "You sound like Timothy."
Miles looked away. "Seems like I am leaving empty handed."
"I am sorry," Wilfred said. "I could not help. But please be careful. There are many groups among the treasure hunters. And you are alone."
"So many," Miles replied. "I heard two of the groups will not be joining."
Wilfred frowned. "What do you an."
"You do not watch the news," Miles said. "Watch it."
He turned toward the door. "I am leaving now. See you again, General."
Miles walked out of the drawing room.
Celina looked up imdiately. "You done talking."
"Yes," Miles said. "I should go now. See you, Uncle Victor."
"Co again," Victor replied warmly.
Celina suddenly stepped forward. "Wait. Drop to work."
Miles smiled. "Where is your car."
"I sent it without ," Celina said lightly. "I told the driver his boss is going to pick up today."
Miles chuckled. "Let us go then."
Celina waved. "See you, dad."
They walked out together, the morning light following them as Miles started the car and drove toward the Wraithbourne office, the city unfolding ahead with quiet inevitability.
London - Curator's place
London was silent at midnight, the kind of silence that pressed against the walls like a held breath.
Elias slept peacefully, wrapped in dark sheets, his mind finally free from plans and calculations. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the city leaking through heavy curtains.
His phone vibrated.
Once.
Twice.
Elias stirred, irritation flickering across his face. He reached out lazily, eyes half closed, until the screen lit up in his palm. The na made him sit up instantly.
He answered.
"It is midnight in London. Do you know that."
The voice on the other end was calm, asured, monk like.
"Mr. Elias. It is important. Watch the Vietnase news."
Elias frowned. "What is it about."
"Just turn it on. You will understand the situation."
The call ended before Elias could respond.
Silence returned, but it no longer felt peaceful. Elias swung his legs off the bed and reached for the remote on the nightstand. His movents were slower now, cautious, a sense of unease creeping into his chest.
The television flickered on.
Vietnase news. English subtitles.
The anchor's voice was grave.
"These terrible videos are from two places in Vietnam."
The screen filled with chaos.
Bodies scattered across a compound. n sprawled where they had fallen. Rifles dropped mid reload. Bullet shells glinting under harsh white lights. Blood soaked into dirt and concrete.
Elias leaned forward.
His eyes widened.
These were not random dead people. He knew them
The Rồng Gang.
The Lưỡi Gang.
Both strong. Both ruthless. Both careful. Both part of the sa hidden network.
Treasure hunters.
The anchor continued.
"These locations were bases of two most wanted gangs in Vietnam. Until today, they were never uncovered by authorities."
Elias clenched his jaw.
Impossible.
"According to locals, sudden sounds of gunfire erupted. Police were called, but when they arrived, it was already over."
Elias brought his hand to his mouth, teeth sinking into his knuckle.
The cara zood in.
Chest wounds. Every single body.
Perfect placent. No hesitation. No spray. No panic.
Then the cara shifted upward.
Foreheads.
Each corpse bore the sa mark.
A red half moon, drawn.
Elias felt his stomach drop.
The anchor's voice cut deeper.
"As you can see, every individual was shot in the sa place. And each one bears the sa marking. A half moon. This confirms one thing. Both gangs were targeted by the sa group. At the sa ti."
Elias whispered to himself, voice barely audible.
"No…"
The Rồng Gang and the Lưỡi Gang had no grudge between them. They had never fought. They had shared resources. Shared silence. Shared secrets.
They had only a few things in common.
And one of them is , they were treasure hunters.
The anchor continued speculating.
"What is this new group. Are they erasing cri. Or is this the beginning of a new gang in Vietnam."
Elias did not hear the rest.
His eyes were locked onto the screen.
Onto the half blood moon.
His mind raced.
Vietnam was too far.
Too precise.
Too coordinated.
This was not a local purge. This was a ssage.
His breathing grew shallow.
"Who did this."
His fingers trembled slightly.
No warnings.
Just execution.
Clean. Efficient. Surgical.
Elias replayed the image in his mind.
Chest shot.
Mark on the forehead.
His thoughts spiraled.
If it was only Vietnam, it could be coincidence.
But two bases. Two factions. Sa night.
Sa mark.
If it's related to treasure hunters.
Which ant related to him.
Elias swallowed hard.
The half moon burned into his vision, even as the screen changed to analysts and experts arguing in studios.
User Comments
0 comments from readers