—Mr. Kailen?

—Mr. Kailen, can you hear me? Please, give us a sign.

A sign?

Oh.

I took a breath.

My heart started beating again.

—He's breathing! He’s breathing! We got him back! It was a total success—I can’t believe it!

What are they talking about…? Oh, shit, everything hurts again. Why does it feel like I’ve been everyone’s punching bag lately?

Slowly, I opened my eyes. At first, my vision was blurry, but it quickly adjusted… and not just that.

There was a flood of information.

Too much information.

Why the hell could I see the temperature and wind direction?

These eyes… this vision…

What the fuck?! Why can I zoom in?!

It took me a while to stop my eyes from constantly shifting focus.

—Mr. Kailen, are you alright? I’m your attending physician. I need to run some tests to make sure there are no complications from the procedure.

—What the hell happened to me? What is this?! —I asked, pointing at my eyes.

—Ah, my bad, my boy. I found an amazing opportunity and took it.

—Master…?

She felt my questioning gaze and continued.

—You see, our dear doctor here made a few… let’s call them ‘ethical missteps.’ I promised to overlook them… if he installed a pair of top-tier bionic eyes for you.

—And where the hell did you get such high-end upgrades? No way the doc just had them lying around.

—They may or may not have been mine at some point.

I looked her in the eyes. I tried to force a smile, but I couldn’t. Ela had done so much for me, and I had nothing to offer in return.

—Thank you.

—Ah, don’t mention it.

—Alright then, is someone gonna tell me what the hell happened, what day it is, and why I’m so goddamn hungry?

—Ah, my apologies, Mr. Kailen. As Miss Ela mentioned— ahem—there was a slight adjustment to your treatment plan, but everything mostly followed what was outlined in your contract. We just added a small surgical procedure to install a NeuroX plate, along with your new next-gen TrueVision augmented optics.

I turned to my master.

—Congratulations, kid. You’ve got your genetic enhancement and a fresh set of implants. As for the plate, don’t worry—it’s a relatively simple procedure. You can have it removed or upgraded once you find better systems down the line. Though, to be honest, I would’ve preferred not to install it, but it was necessary to keep your brain from overloading with your new eyes.

—And how do I use it?

—It has several modes, but you’ll figure that out soon enough. For now, just focus on resting.

—Before we discharge you, Mr. Kailen, your insurance still covers two additional weeks. We’d like to keep you under observation in a controlled environment to make sure there are no latent issues.

—I don’t have time to waste, Doc. If I can walk, I’d rather leave now.

The doctor looked at my master for support… and unfortunately, he found it.

—Kid, let your body rest. Stay at least a day. There’ll be plenty of time later to run around collecting new, shinier implants.

I sighed.

—Fine, Doc, do your thing.

—Good. First, I’d like to see how your brain reacts to the changes. We’ll do an MRI scan. Do you play any instruments, Mr. Kailen?

—Not particularly well. But during my time in the military, I picked up some guitar.

—Perfect. You don’t need to be a virtuoso. More than anything, I just want to observe some brain functions in action. You’ll have to play and sing something for us. Think you can do that?

—Is that really necessary? It’s not like I have a great singing voice.

Ela burst out laughing.

—Hahaha! Kid, you sound like a strangled cat. Your songs were better at scaring off monsters than a .122 artillery barrage.

—Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. —I rolled my eyes.

—Oh, come on, kid, just do it. If you survive this, we can say your implants work even under extreme conditions.

The doctor smirked slightly, amused by our exchange. Then, with a nod to the nurse, he signaled for a guitar.

—We’ll monitor you while you play. Just go with the flow, Kailen.

A few minutes later, a nurse entered with a slim-bodied guitar—probably a hospital model, designed more for therapy than actual sound quality. I placed it on my lap, feeling the cold metal strings under my fingers, and took a deep breath.

I had no idea what to play.

My mind searched through blurry memories until a buried melody surfaced. Something we used to hum on cold nights, when death loomed close and our hearts needed a comforting lie.

The first chords echoed through the room, off-key at first, until my hand found the rhythm. My voice, rough from dryness, barely came out as a whisper:

"Through fire and storm, we march alone..."

I felt the melody awaken something deep in my chest. The lyrics came on their own, as if they were etched into my bones.

"Blades drawn, shadows deep, no home to call our own..."

Ela crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, watching me with a half-smile.

—Well, kid, looks like those implants gave you a bit of harmony after all.

—Don’t get your hopes up. It’s just muscle memory.

—Muscle memory or not, the scan is picking up some interesting data. —The doctor was studying the monitors closely—. Looks like your brain is processing information more efficiently. There’s unusual activation in both the auditory and motor cortex... I’d say your implants didn’t just enhance your vision, but also some cognitive reflexes.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

—Translation into human terms, Doc.

Ela cut in before the doctor could answer.

—It means you can now fine-tune your dying-cat screech a little better.

I scoffed and played the final chords of the song before setting the guitar aside.

—Are we done here?

—Not yet. I’d like to check your reflexes and peripheral vision before moving on to the rest of the examination.

—What exactly are you hoping to find, Doc?

—Honestly? Nothing. —He shrugged—. Your genetic enhancement should make you extremely resilient. Over time, your body will start healing itself. Even if the regeneration factor isn’t obvious at first, within weeks or months, you could recover from almost any damage. Even organs, as long as you have access to the right infrastructure, like this hospital.

My master let out an impressed whistle.

—Not bad, kid. That Eckart guy really paid well for your services.

—When you want the best, you go to the best. —I winked at her.

—Sure, Kailen, hero of all messengers.

—I have a reinforced skeleton. Of course, they’d pick me to deliver messages. I’m basically indestructible.

—Or we could just say you’re good at running.

Ela kept teasing me while the Doc and his team ran tests on my peripheral vision, reflexes, light sensitivity, and a dozen other parameters related to my new optical implants and cognitive enhancements.

Almost an entire afternoon later, they finally let me rest.

—We’d like to continue tomorrow with the examination of… —The doctor’s voice cut off abruptly—. Hey, what do you think you’re doing? This area is off-limits to visitors.

A group of men walked in without asking for permission. Their stance, their posture—everything about them screamed "soldiers." The Doc stepped in their way, though it was more a matter of dignity than an actual attempt to stop them. I had to respect the guy for even trying.

The moment six of them spread out inside the room, all doubt vanished.

—Viktor. You miserable rat, why do you keep cursing me with your presence?

—Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch. I’m here to give you your new…

—I don’t give a shit about what you have to say. You can leave now, rat.

—You motherfu— You think you can just…?

A familiar metallic weight settled in my hand.

—Ah. —I calmly raised my hand, cutting him off—. Goodbye.

Viktor, pissed off at being ignored, threw one of his usual tantrums. He stormed toward me and grabbed my neck, forcing me to face him.

—You son of a bitch, you think you can ignore me? You think you can—?

I pressed the barrel of my revolver against the roof of his mouth.

—Yeah. I do.

Ah, what a beautiful sight.

The scene was perfect: me, still in bed; my master at my side; the Doc frozen in place; six of House Neuvak’s goons tense as hell; and Viktor with a loaded gun in his mouth.

—Yeah, I really do. —I grinned—. Why don’t you ask your little soldiers if they think I can?

Viktor tried to back away, but he froze the moment I flicked the safety off.

Click.

—Don’t make any sudden moves, little Viktor. I might get scared… and press something I really shouldn’t.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. His frantic eyes darted around, searching for help from his men, but none of them moved an inch. They understood perfectly well—this wasn’t their fight anymore.

In a second, his flushed face turned ghostly pale.

My master, looking almost bored, finally broke the silence.

—Kid, you can’t shoot him here. Do you have any idea how much paperwork we’d have to deal with?

I rolled my eyes.

—It’d just give him a bigger headache than he deserves.

—And a brand-new decoration for the wall.

Viktor growled, trying to pull himself together, though the tension in his jaw told a different story.

—You… son of a…

I pressed the revolver a little harder against his mouth.

—Shhh. Don’t say anything you might regret.

A thick silence settled over the room.

Finally, I let out a chuckle and withdrew the gun with a casual flick of my wrist.

—Relax, Viktor. I don’t feel like staining the sheets with your brains. Laundry fees just aren’t worth it.

The bastard immediately stepped back, spitting on the floor and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

—You’re dead, Kailen.

—You’re right. The real question is… will you be the one to pull the trigger?

—I swear I’ll kill you, rat. One day, I’ll kill you and everyone you…

—Yeah, yeah, you’re a real badass, blah, blah, blah. You’ll kill my dog, my cat, and my pet chameleon, blah, blah, blah. Spare me the speech and get lost.

Viktor turned red again. Damn, kid, learn to control your emotions. You can’t be swinging between shades of rage this fast.

—You still have to listen to me. The family wants you to—

—And I’m telling you I don’t give a shit. You and your family can go take a long walk off a short pier.

Viktor seemed unusually hesitant. That’s when it hit me—something was keeping him here.

—An interesting suggestion, young man. Though I’m far too old to wear out my feet in such a manner.

And that was the reason he hadn’t left.

—Grandfather? What are you doing here? I told you I’d handle it!

Slap.

—You don’t tell me what to do, boy. Besides, if I recall correctly, I gave you a mission… and you failed spectacularly.

Oh, shit.

—What do you want?

—Straight to the point. Hmm, better. Seems the army did you some good. —My grandfather glanced at my master, who was still lounging by my bedside, completely at ease, then turned back to me—. You’re going to help your cousin Viktor win the competition between the families.

—Are you high, old man? You really think I’d help that scumbag win?

—I don’t think you will. I know you will.

—And what makes you so damn sure?

—Because I can pay your price, mercenary.

—You’ve got nothing I want.

—Name your price.

—That wasn’t an offer. It was a statement.

He laughed.

—Oh, I don’t believe that for a second. For starters, I can give you information… about your friend’s son.

For the first time, I felt my master tense up. At first, I sensed a killing intent so sharp it made my hair stand on end, but under the old man’s unyielding gaze, it soon shifted into something else… something like—what, longing?

I couldn’t help but meet her eyes.

—Do you have any news?

She shook her head.

—You need this.

She hesitated. I think she was about to nod at first but froze midway and shook her head instead.

—It’s fine.

I placed my hand over hers. She responded by covering mine with her other hand.

—You don’t have to do this. He’ll make you pay a terrible price.

—Don’t worry. It’ll be worth it.

It still blows my mind that I never knew she had a kid. Then again, I didn’t know shit about her personal life—other than the fact that, at some point, she worked a high-level government job.

She gripped my hands tightly, locking me in place with a fierce gaze. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to intimidate me or talk me out of it, but there was no way in hell I was backing down. After everything she’d done for me, this was the least I owed her. If she was looking for her kid and didn’t have any leads, this was a damn good place to start.

When she realized I wasn’t budging, she stood up, leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead, and walked out of the room.

—Alright, old man. Let’s talk business.

—Not a chance.

—What the fuck is your problem? You were the one who—

—I don’t need to negotiate. My job here is done. My butler will handle the details. Don’t waste my time, boy.

And just like that, he was gone.

A butler stepped forward, and a chill ran down my spine. When the hell did this bastard even enter the room? I swear I never saw him.

—What are your terms, Mr. Kailen? —he said while pulling out a small notebook to jot things down.

—If you want to win, we’ll need a location where we can extract a major haul.

—You needn’t worry about that. Your grandfather has already acquired the necessary information. It will be delivered to you at a later date… in a more discreet setting.

—Good. Next, the team. The bulk of the crew has to be non-family personnel, right?

The butler gave a small nod.

—In that case, I’ll assemble a professional team I can actually work with. As long as I’m the one leading them, that fits within the competition’s guidelines, doesn’t it?

One of his eyebrows twitched upward.

—You’re better informed than you let on, Mr. Kailen.

—The old man will cover the cost of the team I put together.

—Of course. Though I must warn you, an auditing team will be assigned to ensure your "chosen personnel" don’t inflate their fees.

That weird emphasis on your chosen personnel—yeah, he was definitely including me in that.

—Just pay the damn wages properly. —I was already half-pissed.

—Speaking of which, how much will Mr. Kailen charge?

I took a moment to think about the price… How much should I charge? What number aligned with my goals?

The answer became clear soon enough.

—One.

—One million?

—One Obi.

—Per day? Per hour… maybe per second?

—No. Just one Obi.

I don’t want or need a single fucking thing from your family. And it looked like the message landed, because the butler’s face twisted like he’d just swallowed shit.

—I understand.

—In the next few days, I’ll start putting together a team. Once I have them, I’ll send them your way so they can arrange whatever supplies they need. I’ll need a number where they can reach you.

—I would prefer to deal directly with Mr. Kailen.

—And I would prefer if you miserable fucks stopped bothering me. But you don’t always get what you want in life.

—I understand.

I stood up to start getting ready to leave. That was the cue for the nurses to come back in and assist me—and for the unwelcome guests to finally clear out. Before they left, though, I added:

—Don’t forget to send the information to my master. It should be delivered in full and immediately.

…

—Do you really think you can boss around the Neuvak family, you little shit?

Viktor tried to get in my face again.

However, the butler stopped him with a firm slap to the chest that knocked the air out of him. If he hadn’t grabbed onto him right after, he probably would’ve sent him flying.

—I understand, Mr. Kailen.

With that, one of the soldiers scooped up an unconscious Viktor, threw him over his shoulder, and walked out.

"I don’t have a single fucking second to waste."