Unknown Card

Soon after, the police arrived, fully geared up as if a major firefight was about to take place. However, the hijackers were already tied up and defenseless. Despite this, the police acted as though they had handled the entire situation themselves, shouting at the hijackers and aggressively forcing them into their vehicle to be taken to the station.

One of the hijackers, pleading for mercy, said, "Please, I only did it because I have no way to provide for my family." But before he could finish speaking, a policeman struck him and sternly said, "Keep quiet!" They then shoved all the suspects into the police vehicle.

Exactly. That's how the system works these days. If you're poor or not a well-known figure, that's how they treat you—no mercy at all. Sure, what the hijackers did was wrong, but they still deserve to be treated fairly.

 But if it had been someone famous or influential committing theft or any other crime, they wouldn't be treated the same way. Instead, they'd be given "due process" and handled with care. It's pure bullshit, honestly. That's all I have to say about it. Tsk.

Moments later, I noticed my phone ringing. When I checked, I saw it was Lara calling. I was a bit surprised since she hadn't been in touch for a while, and I knew she was dealing with issues concerning her father. I quickly answered the call.

"Hello, Lara. Why did you call? Where are you now? How have you been?" I asked, eager to catch up since it had been a while since we last spoke.

 "Don't worry, I'm okay. I've just been busy processing some paperwork to help my dad," Lara replied, her voice tinged with concern. She had seen the live news report showing the hijacking incident and noticed I was there at the scene.

I explained that I was fine and hadn't been hurt. In fact, no one was injured during the hijacking, and everyone got their belongings back safely. Lara let out a sigh of relief, and I could hear the calm returning to her voice over the phone.

I asked her where she was because I wanted to go see her. I was deeply worried about her situation, especially since I was partly to blame for the difficulties her father was facing. However, she told me that she didn't want to see me right now. She didn't want me to see her in her current state—tired, sleep-deprived, and unkempt.

 After a while, she said goodbye, telling me to always take care. She only called to check on me after seeing me on TV earlier, worried about my safety.

I felt a wave of sadness and intense guilt. If only she knew that I was the reason her father was in this predicament, she would surely hate me deeply. Yet, even without knowing the truth, she still prioritized my well-being over her own, despite everything she was going through.

 As I was about to leave, someone called out to me. Turning around, I realized it was Kevin, the man who had helped us on the bus. Kevin—a mysterious figure—seemed invisible to everyone else during the incident; it was as if I was the only one who had witnessed his actions, which was definitely suspicious.

"Yo, Daniel. Can I ask you a favor? Whatever you saw earlier, please don't tell anyone about it," Kevin said.

 His request took me by surprise, and I realized that he must have some idea that no one else saw what he did except me. I wanted to ask him how he had managed to move so quickly, but I knew that asking would probably make me look suspicious too.

 So, I played dumb and told him, "Honestly, I didn't see much or fully understand what happened. I just remember being shocked when I suddenly saw you right in front of me."

Kevin just laughed at me and said, "Alright, kid. Take care of yourself, and try not to be too reckless in every situation. Make sure you can handle it or at least have a plan before you take action—like what happened during the hijacking, okay?" Those were his final words as he walked away from me.

I couldn't take my eyes off him as he left, and then something shocking happened that nearly made my world stop. My breath caught as I noticed something unusual—Kevin was holding a card in his right hand, and it looked eerily similar to my tarot card. The design, the color—everything was the same. However, I couldn't make out what kind of card it was.

All this time, I had believed I was the only one with extraordinary abilities connected to tarot cards. Then I met Katherine, and now, this mysterious man. Could it be that I'm not as unique as I thought?