Beta Gilbert was escorted by a few of his most trusted n to a remote and forgotten mansion, a place that once held elegance, designed with the richness of old culture and architecture.
Now, it stood in eerie silence, its beauty faded by ti and neglect.
The mansion groaned with age, and as they descended into the underground chambers, the sound of water dripping from rusted overhead pipes echoed through the empty halls.
The atmosphere was thick and suffocating, and the structure itself had a ghostly presence, enough to send chills down the spine of anyone not welcod within its walls.
Beta Gilbert walked swiftly, tension and fury written across his face. His n followed closely behind, their boots clicking sharply on the cold stone floor.
The further they moved into the underground, the clearer the haunting sounds beca... cries of pain, muffled screams, and pleas for rcy.
So begged for death. Others spoke in tongues unfamiliar to the rest, broken by pain and desperation.
When they finally entered one of the darker rooms, the n inside imdiately stood and bowed their heads in respect to Beta Gilbert.
A man sat in chains at the center of the room, blood dripping from his nose, one eye already swollen shut. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
"Who did you say sent you?" Beta Gilbert asked, his voice like steel as he locked eyes with the man.
"Sir, I’ve told you everything I know," the man gasped, barely able to keep his head up. "That day at the packhouse... the Alpha caught , but before that... before I went there, I was threatened. They said they’d kill my wife and kids if I didn’t go and do what they asked. Then they’d co for ."
Beta Gilbert stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "What exactly did they ask you to do?"
"I... I went there with a phone. I was told to record videos and take pictures of everything going on. That’s all I know! Please, sir... don’t kill !"
"Do you want to see your family again?" Beta Gilbert asked coldly, bending to et the man’s one unbruised eye.
"Yes, sir! I want to see them! Please, I didn’t have a choice... I was just trying to save them!" The man broke into sobs.
"If I let you go... will you work for ?" Gilbert’s voice dropped to a calm, calculating tone as he crouched lower.
The man blinked, stunned by the offer.
"I-I will. I’ll work for you. But... please, don’t make do what they made do. I’m not trained for this kind of thing. I’m just a poor man, trying to feed my family."
Gilbert let out a small, dry chuckle.
"Does a dead man walking have a choice? I’m offering you redemption. Protection for you and your family. All I ask in return... is loyalty. And your acting skills, impressive, I must say."
"I’ll do it, sir," the man nodded, desperation mixed with hope in his eyes. "Just keep my family safe, and I’m all yours."
Gilbert rose to his feet and signaled to his n.
"Release him. Give him his phone. Let him call them now... he needs to convince them he’s still on their side."
As the guards moved to untie him and retrieve his phone, the sound of approaching footsteps stopped them all in their tracks. Instinctively, they raised their weapons and turned to the entrance of the room.
But it wasn’t an intruder, It was Bernard.
He walked in with his usual confidence, his presence alone enough to command attention. The mont the guards recognized him, they lowered their guns and bowed their heads in respect.
"Son," Gilbert said with a faint smile, "what are you doing here?"
Bernard didn’t speak. He simply raised his hand and gestured for the guards to leave the room. They obeyed imdiately, filing out without a word.
Once they were alone, Bernard turned to his father.
"Dad, what are you doing here? I thought I was handling this—my way."
Gilbert looked away for a mont. "So I can’t get involved anymore?"
"What do you an?" Bernard raised a brow and Gilbert sighed.
"Soone’s been following for weeks now. I have no idea who they are, but I suspect they’re connected to this man and whoever sent him."
"And you never thought to tell that?" Bernard asked, his voice calm but firm.
"I thought I could handle it on my own," Gilbert admitted. "But things are getting out of hand."
Bernard folded his arms. "So what’s your plan now?"
"I was going to let him go, have him call those people—pretend he’s still loyal to them. I also promised him and his family protection."
Bernard let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "No way. That plan will get him and his family killed instantly."
"And why do you say that?" Gilbert frowned.
Bernard walked over to the man, who was now sitting upright but still visibly shaken.
"Just look at him. He’s been through hell. You think he can pretend like nothing happened? One wrong word, one wrong breath, and he’s dead."
Gilbert stayed silent, processing his son’s words.
"So what do you suggest?" he finally asked.
Bernard turned back to the man. "What’s your na?"
"G-Gabriel, sir," the man stamred.
"Take your phone," Bernard said firmly, "and call your wife. Tell her you’re coming ho."
Gilbert stared at his son, puzzled.
But Bernard wasn’t bluffing. He had a different plan in mind, and Gabriel’s life was the first step.
Bernard handed Gabriel the phone, and without hesitation, Gabriel quickly dialed his wife’s number. His hands trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear.
It rang multiple tis... no answer. His breathing beca shallow, anxiety rising quickly in his chest.
"Does it take more than one dial for your wife to answer your call?" Bernard asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared Gabriel down.
"No... never," Gabriel replied, his voice low with concern. "Especially not now. I’ve been away for days. She should’ve answered imdiately."
"Calm your nerves," Bernard said, his tone firm but steady. "Dial again. This ti, speak normally—don’t let her suspect anything."
Gabriel nodded nervously and redialed. This ti, the call connected imdiately.
"Hello, Gabriel! Where have you been?" Elizabeth’s voice ca through the line—frustrated and worried.
"I’ve just been busy with work," Gabriel replied confidently, trying to hide the strain in his voice. "I’m on my way ho now. I’ll explain everything once I’m there."
Without waiting for a reply, he ended the call.
"Well done," Bernard said, a small smile playing at his lips. "As long as you keep cooperating, I give you my word, your family will remain safe."
Later that evening, Gabriel stepped out of a public transport vehicle at a junction about 250 ters from his ho. The only thing with him was a small backpack.
His movents were cautious but determined as he made his way toward the house.
When he finally arrived, he walked straight to the door and knocked. Within seconds, Elizabeth opened it. Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of his blood-stained shirt and bruises.
"Gabriel, what happened to you? Where have you been?" she asked, rushing to embrace him.
Gabriel said nothing. Instead, he gently pushed past her, scanning the house.
"Where are the children?" he asked quickly.
Before Elizabeth could answer, Gabriel froze. Sothing felt off.
Then he saw them, ard n surrounding the inside of his ho. As he turned in shock, he caught Elizabeth’s tear-streaked face.
"I’m sorry!" she sobbed. "They said if I warned you, they’d kill and the children... and then kill you too!"
Gabriel took a step back, his body tensing.
"Don’t try anything, Gabriel," one of the n said calmly, moving closer. "Just co with us and we’ll let your family go."
But before they could blink, Gabriel suddenly removed his jacket. The mont he did, all the ard n staggered backward in alarm.
Strapped around his torso was an arrangent of grenades, wired and blinking ominously.
"These explosives can take out all of us—plus the next three houses," Gabriel announced boldly. "And there are more in this bag. They’re all connected."
"You won’t do it," one of the n scoffed. "You love your family too much to risk it."
"Don’t move," a voice said suddenly—from a speaker strapped to Gabriel’s vest.
It was Bernard.
"Gabriel doesn’t have the control switch. I do. Any foul play, and I’ll blow every one of you to pieces."
The room fell into a suffocating silence. Fear was etched into the faces of the ard n. One of them, trying to act brave, stepped forward.
"You’re bluffing," he said defiantly. "I’ll walk out right now and nothing will happen."
Bernard laughed darkly through the speaker. "Be my guest. Just say your prayers before you step out."
The man gave a mocking scoff and headed for the door.
The mont he crossed the threshold—bang! A shot rang out. He dropped lifelessly to the floor.
Panic erupted in the room.
"You’re surrounded," Bernard’s voice rang again. "Drop your weapons now. Any sudden moves, and I won’t hesitate."
The remaining gunn didn’t hesitate. One by one, they dropped their guns to the floor, stepping away from them slowly.
"Oh, and in case you’re wondering," Bernard continued, "each grenade has a cara installed. I see everything. Don’t test ."
Terror was written on every face.
"Gabriel, remove all the grenades, including those in your bag. Walk out with your family... no sudden movents. The rest of you, move to the center of the room."
Gabriel obeyed without question. Carefully, he unstrapped the grenades, set them down, and guided Elizabeth and the children out.
Outside, Bernard’s n were waiting to rescue them.
"Now," Bernard said, "the one leading this group, pick up the grenades. The rest of you, follow him out slowly. Any funny business and you’re all dead."
With careful steps, they moved. When they were outside, Bernard issued his final command.
"Drop the explosives. Hands up. Face down."
They obeyed.
Within seconds, Bernard’s team sward in, handcuffing each of the n. Bernard stepped forward, watching them with satisfaction.
"This is just the beginning," he said, chuckling confidently. "I’ll show you all who really runs this town."
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