chapter 30: crossed paths and intertwined destinies

"Oh, leaving so soon? Don't tell me you expected me to show up and decided to run off with your tail between your legs."

My eyes meet his, I don't need anyone to introduce him to me.

"Oh, I was just looking for something more thrilling. But since the clown has appeared, let's see if you have anything worth hearing."

"Haha."

Narco steps forward indifferently, taking the seat on the side, turning deliberately to Mopheus while avoiding looking at me.

"How are you, old friend?"

Mopheus responds with a snort.

"Friend? Do you even know what that word means?"

Suddenly, the fading sunlight hits Narco's bald face, causing him to scowl. He turns to the servant standing like a statue behind his master.

"Why is that damned ball still here?"

The servant can do nothing but offer him an apologetic look.

"What is the poor boy supposed to do? Push the sun away with his hands?"

Narco shifts his gaze back to Mopheus, as if an idea has just struck him.

"Brilliant idea, my old friend. You, go extinguish it."

Everyone, including me, was too stunned to speak, overwhelmed by the absurdity of his mind.

"Wait, are you from the same generation?"

I can no longer hold back my curiosity. Since the bald man entered, I've been glancing back and forth between the two, unable to ignore the obvious age difference.

I mean, while Mopheus seems to be in his late seventies at most, you could easily place Narco in his mid-forties.

Finally, Narco notices my gaze and lets out a laugh.

"Haha, I see you're surprised by his appearance. I told you to take better care of your health and looks."

"It's good to embrace my age, unlike you, looking like some freak. People might think you're still young."

"I am still young, can't you see my muscles?"

Yes, the lunatic had walked in wearing simple black pants and a bathrobe draped over his shoulders, proudly showing off his abs.

Mopheus turned to me, ignoring Narco's strange looks.

"We're the same age, mid-sixties, but he's still a teenager, as you can see."

"At least I'm not a traitor, unlike you."

Before Mopheus could respond, the waiter entered with a tray, setting another cup of coffee in front of me along with a giant glass like the one Mopheus had before.

Narco grabs it in one gulp, finishes it completely, and raises his finger toward the window.

"Close that stupid thing that's letting that horrible ball hit my face."

Incredibly, the waiter complies.

"So, you're the famous Emiric? Not bad, but your looks don't match the rumors."

I smile, taking a sip and blowing smoke toward him as I calmly reply.

He's trying to provoke me. He'll need more than this.

"Well, I agree with you on that. Rumors don't do me justice. I mean, it's not their fault; how could they describe something this perfect and flawless?"

Mopheus smirks at my words, which Narco notices. He points his finger toward me.

"Is this who you want to partner with?"

"I'm not his partner; I work for him."

Narco raises his eyebrows as if he's heard the strangest thing in his life.

"Him?"

He looks me over, then turns back to Mopheus, repeating the word.

"Him?"

As he repeats the word twice, I feel Dexter's anger rising behind me. He's fiercely loyal to the body's owner. I start to wonder if I should rely on him and confess that I've lost my memory.

"This man you're talking about will rule the world one day."

turn to Dexter, my eyes glowing. I truly want to jump on him and smash his Fucking mouth, and about trusting him with my memory loss? Forget it.

"Haha."

Of course, the bald man laughs.

"Rule the world? Is this really who you want to work for?"

"Why are you laughing? Didn't you say the same thing once?"

Narco chokes on Mopheus' unexpected words, stopping his laughter and muttering words my ears barely catch.

"I was young then. Things are different now."

"Different? Oh, do you mean you now just want to be a king? Is that what you mean?"

I was surprised by his lofty ambitions. You should know that if the person nicknamed "The Boss" dreams of conquering the kingdom, it's because of the serum. Without it, he wouldn't have dared to dream, let alone plan.

"If you hadn't left me halfway, I would've given you the position of the king's right hand. But it's not too late; the door is still open for you. Come on, step in."

Narco's face takes on a childlike expression as he pokes Mopheus' shoulder repeatedly. Veins start to bulge on Mopheus' forehead.

I can't help but pity the servant. If you could see his face, you'd know the amount of embarrassment he's feeling, watching his master behave like this.

"Get away from me. I'm not interested."

Mopheus shrugs, pushing his chair back with his leg to move away as far as possible.

This simple action draws a look of frustration and confusion on Narco's face.

"Why him and not me? He's the reason your grandson is dead."

He really is like a child, pointing his finger at me. I've been tempted to cut it off several times, but I've barely held myself back.

"You, him, or me—we're all just causes. It was his decision. Besides, I'd rather cooperate with him than with someone who still sleeps with girls the age of his granddaughters. Aren't you ashamed? And as if that wasn't enough, you kill them because they displease you. Disgusting."

"It's the law of the jungle. If you're strong, it won't happen to you. Besides, who told them to be boring?"

Mopheus stands up suddenly, his face furious and his eyes glowing.

"I can't take this anymore. I'm an old man who might have a heart attack because of this bastard. I'll be over there; if you want something, just raise your voice and I'll hear you."

Without waiting, he leaves, leaving Narco watching him with furrowed brows. I can tell he cares about the old man; even the old man isn't much different. They're true friends—only their beliefs have divided them.

Narco adjusts himself, sitting across from me in the old man's spot.

Suddenly, his body language and expression change as he narrows his eyes at me.

"Who's behind you?"

Was he provoking the old man on purpose to speak with me alone? It seems he truly cares about him and doesn't want him to delve too deeply with me. I respect that.

I turn, raising my finger toward them.

"Hank and Dexter. Got a problem with your eyesight? They're my men."

"Haha, witty. But unfortunately, clowns are the ones who die the quickest."

As he laughs, I take another sip of coffee.

"Strange. Isn't laughter supposed to strengthen the heart or something?"

"What?"

Narco seems baffled by my random comment.

"I was saying, it's pathetic to use the same analogy someone used on you. I mean, you remind me of someone who took the two most famous names, removed a letter, and thought no one would notice."

(author: This bastard wouldn't let it go.)

"I don't understand your nonsense... Anyway, I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse. Serve under me, and you'll live. Otherwise, blame no one but yourself."

"Really? That's your threat?"

He narrows his eyes, placing his hands on the table, his voice filled with an effort to intimidate me.

"You don't want me as your enemy."

I can't help but smile at him, fueling the fire in his chest with a disdainful look.

"Take a number and Stand in line. You're not the first, and you won't be the last."

Not bad. He realizes what I'm trying to do. He relaxes his hands and mirrors my smile. That's when I start to feel uneasy. A man who's terrified the underworld wouldn't be this easy to handle.

"Do you think prancing around like a fool will make them submit to you? They wouldn't have betrayed you in the first place. You're an amateur, kid."

He raises his voice, making sure Mopheus can hear him.

"This kid threw money at their men. Hahaha!"

He's trying to catch his attention again.

No response comes, forcing him to refocus on what my reply will be. Is he testing me? Fine, we're both testing each other.

"Do you think money isn't enough to buy loyalty?"

Without hesitation, he responds.

"Fear is what guarantees loyalty."

I have to admit he has a point. Money doesn't buy loyalty, but its absence creates fertile ground for betrayal and treachery.

"Hank, how much have we spent today?"

He pulls out his phone and doesn't answer my question until he's verified the number. I like that.

"About 40 million and some change."

"Tell me, if I offered one of your men this modest sum of mine, do you think he'd refuse?"

"Impossible."

I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten from how deeply this affects him. I can feel his struggle. Just thinking about it would make the strongest man lose sleep.

"Impossible, you say? Not a single one close to you? What about those less close? You love sleeping with girls. What do you think about them? None of them would accept it and then slit your throat on a dark night?"

That last one makes his whole body tremble. I can already tell he's going to cut down on his late-night parties. Good. He'll start waking up early. Maybe he'll fix his relationship with the sun. Seems like he has a history with it.

"You can try."

At least say it with a bit more confidence this time. They're all lions, but corner them, and they turn into kittens.

"You see? He said it himself. Hank, remind me so I don't forget."

"At your command, sir."

"Good. You're not bad. I'm starting to like you. What do you think about a partnership between you and me?"

"Look at that. First, he wanted me under him. Now he wants to be my partner. Who knows? If I wait a little longer, he might want to be under me."

"I don't let anyone ride me."

His eyes glow with rage, and he's starting to lose control. I'll give him credit—he's held himself together well. But I know his type. He's a volcano, simmering, waiting for the chance to erupt. I think the only reason he's held back is that we're in Mopheus' domain. Otherwise, the fists would've started flying long ago.

"Truly, a wasted opportunity. I was going to advise you to let someone ride you in bed. You might find some enjoyment in it since the traditional ways clearly aren't working for you."

His face is now covered in veins, and every muscle in it trembles uncontrollably.

His eyes gleam as if he's finally found something to satisfy himself.

"Look who's talking. The Impotent himself."

"What did you say now?"

He's managed to push my buttons, but I'm not interested. I only sat here to understand my enemy. I knew I wasn't going to gain anything tangible. But his last words left question marks all over my face. What's he talking about now?

He smiles as if he's finally won.

"I sold you one of the most beautiful queens in the entire empire. And what did you do? Nothing. Haha, you've got bigger problems than I do, kid."

Suddenly, pieces start to fall into place in my mind.

When Ivana suspected I was different, what did she do? Of course, she threw me on the bed, but she didn't finish seducing me when she noticed my little friend waking up.

Was the owner of this body sexually impotent?

"Be honest. That rumor about your marriage—is it false? Either it's false, or it's not a real marriage."

As I ride the train of my thoughts, Narco continues his chatter, oblivious to my distraction.

"Anyway, that's not my business. Everyone has their struggles. Look, I've come to like you. My final advice: accept the offer. Learn from those who came before you. You'll never reach what the Faceless One achieved. And look what happened to him."

No matter how deep my thoughts, the moment he mentions the Faceless One, I snap out of it, interested in what I'm about to hear.

"The Faceless One. Are you saying you killed him?"

An odd look crosses his face, one he tries to mask with a smile. I don't need to focus much to know it's fake.

"Of course. Look around—do you see him or hear anything about him?"

A doubt creeps into my heart, and it shows on my face.

"Yes, I hear about him everywhere—unlike you."

"You hear about him because I made him an example, a lesson. He's become nothing but a myth. True power is being present, and no one dares to say your name."

"In fact, you've been mentioned."

"As a title. You'll never hear my real name."

"Well, I just heard your name now."

He raises his voice again. If you want to speak to him, go to him bitch.

"That's because of that old man who exploits my weakness toward him."

Your shouting reminds me of a donkey braying in the middle of the night.

"fuck you and your mother."

"My mother died in her prime, unlike your mother, whom you never even met."

They truly are friends. I can tell if a stranger had said such a line, there would be blood in the air.

Suddenly, without warning, our eyes widen, and our eyebrows shoot up. Both of us stand at the same time.

A moment passes. A moment of realization that something is happening, though neither of us can pinpoint what. It's instinct—the instinct of years of street fighting etched into his bones and the bones of this body's owner.

Suddenly, our ears catch the faint sound of an explosion starting, followed by the cocking of a trigger.

"Everyone down!"

"Everyone down!"

The words barely leave our mouths before an explosion echoes, followed by the rattling burst of machine-gun fire.

"Boom, boom, boom!"