The atmosphere in the room was electric with tension.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he desperately tried to buy time for the officers to arrive.

Every second felt like a minute, every breath drawn with deliberate control.

He knew he had to keep Noel engaged, to distract him with conversation and stave off the impending danger.

"Yeah, if you want money, then I have a lot," he offered, his voice remarkably steady despite the storm raging within him.

"Money?" Noel's tone was almost mocking, his casual demeanor at odds with the menace in his eyes.

He leaned back, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Do you know how many people out there would be willing to die for this money? How many poor people are there?"

His finger pointed towards the darker regions of the city, areas where the lights were sparse and life was a constant struggle.

Sam followed Noel's gesture, his eyes sweeping over the less fortunate parts of the city.

For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt, a fleeting recognition of the vast disparity between his opulent life and the hardships faced by so many.

The glittering skyline, which once seemed a testament to his success, now felt like a beacon of excess against a backdrop of deprivation.

But he quickly steeled himself, focusing on the task at hand.

"Oh! Are you worried about them?" He asked, seizing the opportunity to keep Noel talking.

His voice was calm, measured, as if discussing a matter of business.

"Then how about I give you money, and you distribute it among them?"

Noel's eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

He let out a low, bitter laugh.

"No, you got it wrong. I couldn't care less about their lives."

His words were sharp, cutting through the air like a knife.

"I want to know why you don't donate some of your money to the poor and orphans?" he asked, his voice dripping with contempt.

Sam's grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white.

Noel's question struck a nerve, the accusatory tone cutting deeper than he expected.

He knew Noel was trying to provoke him, to unnerve him, but he couldn't help but feel the sting of the accusation.

"Because that's the money I earned through my own hard work. Why should I give it to them?" Sam replied, his voice steady but his mind racing to maintain his calm facade.

"Yes, you're right. It's your money," Noel said, his tone shifting slightly, almost conceding the point.

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"Anyway, just answer my one last question."

"Ask," Sam said, trying to sound unbothered, but he could feel a knot tightening in his stomach.

"Project Epoch. What was it?"

The words hung in the air like a dark omen, and Sam’s expression crumpled for a split second, betraying a flash of panic.

He quickly tried to mask it, but the damage was done.

"Tell me about it everything you know," Noel demanded, the casualness gone from his voice, replaced by a steely determination.

His eyes bored into Sam's, demanding answers.

Sam felt his heart skip a beat, his carefully constructed composure fracturing.

"So that's how it is," he muttered, trying to buy himself a moment to think.

"You're a result of those experiments. And you're here for revenge, right?"

He attempted to regain his composure, but the mention of Project Epoch had struck a nerve.

His mind flashed back to the clandestine meetings, the unethical decisions made in the name of progress and profit.

He had buried those memories deep, convincing himself that the ends justified the means.

But now, faced with the living embodiment of those sins, he found himself struggling to maintain his calm.

The room seemed to close in around him, the walls of his luxurious penthouse suddenly feeling like a gilded cage.

"Nope. I would have killed you either way, but it just turned out that you're someone related to that experiment," Noel replied, his tone icy and matter-of-fact.

Sam's mind raced, trying to piece together a strategy.

"But how do you know I was related to it?" he asked, stalling for time.

Noel's eyes flickered with a hint of recognition.

"Well, you don't remember, but once, when you came to that facility, I saw you. After I escaped, there was a lot of news about you. That's how I found out who you were."

Sam's heart sank.

He remembered now—the visit to the research facility, the unsettling atmosphere, the brief glimpse of a young boy with haunted eyes.

He had tried to push those memories aside, but now they came rushing back with brutal clarity.

"Then why didn't you try to kill me earlier?" Sam asked, his voice strained.

"Because of your security. And you weren't on my list of targets," Noel replied, his voice low and dangerous.

"But enough dodging. Tell me everything you know about Project Epoch and the location of that damn scientist."

Sam's pulse quickened. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but there was no escape now.

"Okay. I will tell you," Sam began, his voice quivering slightly.

"A few years back, there were a lot of wars and villains. So, to deal with them, our government came up with the idea of creating human weapons. That was Project Epoch. They offered me significant benefits, so I invested in it."

Sam watched as Noel's expression darkened.

"What? That's it? Don't you know anything else?" Noel demanded, his frustration evident.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Sam could feel the walls closing in on him.

"Yes, there's more," he confessed, his voice cracking under the weight of his memories.

"We recruited children from orphanages, homeless shelters, anywhere we could find them. We promised them a better life, education, and care. But once they were inside the facility, they were subjected to horrifying experiments."

"Anything else, like the location of that scientist or the products of those experiments?" Noel demanded, his voice now edged with frustration.

"Unfortunately, no. I don't know where the scientist is or who else was produced by Project Epoch," Sam said, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and regret.

Noel's eyes turned cold, the room growing heavier with the impending violence.

"Well, that's really unfortunate. Now that you've told me everything you know, you can die," Noel declared, summoning a knife with a flick of his wrist.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the blade gleam ominously in Noel's hand.

Desperation clawed at him, but he knew there was no escape.

He had to keep Noel talking, even if only for a few more seconds.

"Wait!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling.

"There must be something else you want. More information, more resources... anything!"

Noel's grip tightened on the knife, his gaze unwavering.

"Your time is up. You've played your part, and now it's time for you to face the consequences."

Sam's mind raced, grasping for any thread of hope.

He had never felt so powerless, so utterly at the mercy of another.

As Noel stepped closer, Sam could see the madness etched into his eyes, the deep-seated hatred and pain that drove him.

The realization that he was facing his end sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Just as Noel raised the knife, ready to strike, a deafening bang reverberated through the air.

Noel crumpled to the floor, a searing pain exploding in his left leg.

"Gaah!!" he screamed, clutching at the wound.

His eyes widened in shock as he saw the bullet lodged in his leg, blood gushing out in a crimson torrent.

Desperation and survival instinct kicked in as Noel quickly enveloped himself in his blue aura, a shimmering shield of energy that crackled and pulsed around him.

The aura illuminated the dimly lit room, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

He scanned the surroundings, his mind racing.

"What? This...!" Noel's voice was a mix of pain and disbelief.

His space particles darted around the building, taking in the tactical positioning of armed officers.

They had surrounded him, their weapons trained on him with deadly precision.

Each officer was poised, ready to react to any sudden movement, their eyes locked on Noel with unwavering focus.

Sam, still standing by the table, let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him in waves.

The officers had arrived just in time, their swift intervention pulling him back from the brink of death.

He could feel his legs trembling, the adrenaline ebbing away and leaving behind a profound sense of vulnerability.

Noel's mind raced, calculating his next move.

He knew he was outnumbered and injured, but he refused to be captured.

Memories of his past flashed before his eyes—the cold, sterile labs, the inhumane experiments, and the endless pursuit of freedom.

He couldn't let it end here, not like this.

With a surge of willpower, he forced himself to stand, the pain in his leg excruciating.

His blue aura flared brighter, crackling with intensity as he prepared for the next move.

Each step he took sent jolts of agony through his body, but he gritted his teeth, determined to fight on.

The officers tightened their formation, inching closer, their weapons at the ready.

Sam watched, his heart pounding in his chest.

He had never seen such raw power, such unyielding determination.

It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.