I moved silently through the shadows of Veridia City's exclusive business district, feeling the two n trailing from about fifty yards back. They'd been following since I left the Jade Moon Villa, maintaining just enough distance to avoid imdiate detection. Amateurs.
"You might as well co out now," I called without turning around, my voice carrying in the quiet night air. "Your stealth skills are embarrassing."
I heard a sharp intake of breath, then footsteps as the two n erged from their hiding spots. Both wore expensive suits that failed to conceal their muscular builds – clearly Thornton Family enforcers.
"Mr. Knight," the taller one said, trying to sound casual. "We were just—"
"Spare the lies," I cut him off, finally turning to face them. "Tell Victor his tactics are pathetic. If the Thorntons want to keep tabs on , they should send soone competent."
The shorter man's hand drifted toward his jacket, where I could sense the outline of a concealed weapon.
"I wouldn't," I warned, releasing just enough of my aura to make both n take an involuntary step back. "You're both Foundation Building Stage 1 cultivators at best. I could kill you before you cleared your holsters."
Sweat beaded on the taller man's forehead. "We're just following orders."
"Then follow this one: leave." I stepped closer, allowing dark energy to flicker visibly around my fingers. "If I see either of you within a hundred yards of again, I'll send you back to Victor in pieces."
They exchanged nervous glances before backing away slowly, then turning to hurry down the street.
I sighed, checking my watch. The Thornton situation was becoming a nuisance, but I had more pressing matters – specifically, a billionaire client waiting for treatnt. A fortune of three billion dollars had just landed in my account, and I needed to uphold my end of the bargain.
Upon arriving at the Hansen mansion, I was imdiately greeted by Kathleen, looking even more glamorous than before in a designer dress that probably cost more than most people's cars.
"Mr. Knight! Thank you for coming." Her relief was palpable, the facade of celebrity confidence temporarily replaced by genuine worry. "Father's condition has worsened since this afternoon."
I nodded, following her through the lavish halls decorated with artwork worth millions. "Take to him."
Mr. Hansen lay in a dical bed that had been set up in what was once probably a study. Machines beeped around him, monitoring his failing body. The man himself was gaunt, his muscular fra now wasted by disease, but his eyes remained alert and intelligent.
"So you're the miracle worker my daughter found," he said, his voice weak but clear.
I placed my bag on a nearby table. "I'm no miracle worker, Mr. Hansen. Just a man with certain skills."
After examining him and administering the first phase of treatnt – a complex mixture of herbs and compounds that would prepare his body for what was to co – I gave Kathleen detailed instructions for the next twelve hours.
"I've done what I can for today," I explained. "But ALS requires more than one treatnt. We'll need to continue the regin abroad."
Kathleen blinked in surprise. "Abroad? Why?"
"So of the ingredients I need can't be found here. We need to travel to where they grow naturally." I handed her a folder. "All the arrangents have been made. We leave tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?" She glanced at her father, then back at . "I have a photoshoot scheduled, and the t Gala next week—"
"Cancel them," I said flatly. "Unless you prefer planning your father's funeral instead."
Her face paled, and she nodded. "Of course. I'll make the arrangents."
---
The next morning, I found myself increasingly regretting my decision as I escorted Kathleen Hansen to the private airfield where our chartered plane waited. The supermodel had brought enough luggage for a month-long vacation rather than a dical expedition.
"Is all this really necessary?" I asked as airport staff loaded her sixth suitcase into the cargo hold.
"I never know what I might need," she replied with a smile that had launched a thousand magazine covers. "Besides, we might be seen by paparazzi. Image is everything in my business."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "This isn't a publicity tour."
Once on board the luxury jet, I discovered another problem.
"Twenty hours?" I stared at the pilot after he detailed our flight plan. "You didn't ntion we were going halfway across the world."
Kathleen shrugged, already settling into her plush seat. "You said abroad. Did it matter where specifically?"
I bit back a retort. The money had already been paid, and I'd given my word. Besides, the lengthy flight might provide an opportunity I hadn't anticipated.
After takeoff, as Kathleen busied herself with fashion magazines and phone calls, I prepared for sothing far more important. A twenty-hour flight offered the perfect isolated environnt for what I needed to attempt.
"I'll be ditating," I told her once we reached cruising altitude. "Do not disturb under any circumstances."
She looked up from her phone. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes." I moved to the rear of the cabin where two seats had been converted into a small private compartnt. "This is critically important."
For once, she seed to sense my seriousness. "Alright. I'll make sure no one bothers you."
Once secluded, I assud the lotus position and began the risky process I'd been planning for weeks. Foundation Building Stage 3 had eluded so far, my progress blocked by an imbalance between the light and dark energies within . Ward's technique had awakened the darker aspects of my cultivation potential, but integrating it properly required absolute concentration.
Drawing dark energy from deep within , I began circulating it through my ridians. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying – like handling a venomous snake that could strike at any mont. One mistake could damage my cultivation base permanently, or worse, corrupt my mind.
Hour after hour, I sank deeper into my ditative state, barely aware of my physical surroundings as I wrestled with forces most cultivators would never dare touch.
---
Kathleen was watching a movie when the first sign of trouble occurred. The cabin lights flickered once, then again. The flight attendant appeared, her practiced smile strained at the edges.
"Just a little turbulence, Ms. Hansen. Nothing to worry about."
Minutes later, the captain's voice ca over the intercom, tight with controlled panic. "Ladies and gentlen, please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened."
Kathleen felt a spike of anxiety but tried to remain calm. Private flights often encountered rough air. But when the cabin door burst open and two n rushed in with guns drawn, she realized this was far worse than turbulence.
"Nobody move!" the first man shouted, his face concealed by a ski mask. "This is a hijacking!"
The second hijacker held his weapon on the flight attendant. "Everyone stay calm and you won't get hurt. We just want valuables." Chесk fоr thе lаtеst updаtеs оn Мy Virtuаl Librаry Еmpirе (
Kathleen's heart hamred in her chest. She glanced toward the rear compartnt where Liam remained in deep ditation, completely unaware of the danger. Should she try to wake him? Would that make things worse?
The first hijacker moved through the cabin, collecting watches, jewelry, and cash from the handful of other passengers. When he reached Kathleen, his eyes widened in recognition despite his mask.
"Well, well. Kathleen Hansen." His voice took on an ugly edge. "The famous supermodel. Today must be our lucky day."
She tried to remain composed, handing over her diamond bracelet and designer watch. "Take what you want and leave us alone."
The hijacker leaned closer, his breath hot on her face. "Oh, we'll take what we want alright. But maybe we want more than just jewelry."
His partner laughed. "Check her ID. Bet she's worth a fortune in ransom."
Panic surged through her. "Mr. Knight!" she called out desperately. "Liam!"
"Who's she calling?" The second hijacker moved toward the rear compartnt, gun raised.
"My... my bodyguard," Kathleen improvised. "He's back there."
The hijacker yanked open the compartnt door to find Liam sitting perfectly still, eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to everything around him. The man waved his gun in Liam's face, but got no reaction.
"This guy's out cold," he reported. "What's wrong with him?"
"I don't know," Kathleen replied truthfully. "He was ditating. He said not to disturb him."
The first hijacker grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. "Well, sweetheart, looks like your bodyguard is useless. It's just you and us now."
"Please," she begged, trying to reach Liam again. "Mr. Knight! Wake up!"
But Liam remained motionless, trapped in his deep cultivation state.
The hijackers collected the remaining valuables before the leader returned his attention to Kathleen, eyes roving over her body with undisguised lust.
"Strip," he ordered suddenly.
"What?" Kathleen recoiled in horror.
"You heard . Strip. Or I start shooting passengers." He pointed his gun at an elderly man across the aisle. "Starting with grandpa here."
"You can't—"
"One."
"Please don't—"
"Two."
The other passengers began pleading with her.
"Just do what he says!"
"We don't want to die!"
"Please, Ms. Hansen!"
Tears welled in Kathleen's eyes as she looked desperately toward Liam's still form. How could he remain so completely unaware? Her hands trembled as she reached for the top button of her blouse.
"Three—"
"Okay!" she cried. "Okay. Just... don't hurt anyone."
The hijacker smiled beneath his mask. "Smart girl. Nice and slow now. Let's give everyone a show."
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