"Oof..." After the departure of the burly man and his men, Martin sighed as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked at the old man lying on the ground with his frail body.

"Get up, it's getting late, and this place is dangerous at night for a white man..."

His voice was low, but it carried a note of cautious concern. Martin extended his hand to help the old man. The old man had cold blue eyes, scattered white hair, and a pale skin that had suffered from hunger and homelessness. Despite all this, there was a gleam of arrogance and pride in his eyes, a gleam that could not have been born of the moment but rather the result of years of authority and position in a noble role. It was clear that this old man had lived a life that wasn't easy, but something in his eyes revealed a man who had once been surrounded by respect and fear.

Martin and the old man exchanged sharp looks, as if trying to read each other's thoughts. In that brief moment, there was silence, a silence filled with tension and doubt, as if each of them was trying to understand the other's intentions. The moment was charged, as if the air had become thicker. Suddenly, the old man broke this tension, brushing Martin's hand aside, saying, "Thank you, young man, but I can stand on my own..."

The old man's response was not just words; it reflected a clear challenge and an assertion of his independence despite his frail appearance. And in the next moment, something strange happened. From the old man's foot, which seemed to be missing, a cluster of wires and metallic fibers emerged, extending to form an artificial foot. For a moment, it looked like a scene from a science fiction movie, causing Martin to step back three steps, with signs of surprise and shock clear on his face.

"Wait... was the burly man right? Could this old man really be hiding here... I hope I haven't gotten myself into murky waters..." Martin was almost thinking out loud, as if trying to calm himself down or at least convince himself that everything would be okay.

Before Martin could finish reviewing his thoughts, the old man stood upright, despite the signs of exhaustion and beating that were still evident on his body. Sweat was dripping from his forehead, but he didn't seem affected by it. On the contrary, there was a look of determination in his eyes, as if all the pain he had endured was just a minor detail. "Boy, come with me," said the old man in a firm tone that left no room for argument. His words were strong and clear, indicating a character that did not accept refusal. Then he turned and began walking through the dark alleys, heading toward a large junkyard filled with scrap metal.

Martin hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and put his hand in his inner pocket to make sure his personal gun was there. He felt a bit scared, but he wasn't ready to turn back now. He had seen something he shouldn't have seen, and that had piqued his curiosity immensely. He followed the old man with cautious steps, trying to stay close enough to listen to him but far enough to be able to escape if necessary. He knew well that he had entangled himself in something dangerous, and his intervention might cost him his life. He began to feel regret, not only because he intervened but because it might be written on his grave, "Died a hero saving an old man," not even to save a beautiful girl...

---

Around 1 a.m.

Main Junkyard

At the main junkyard, there was a strange silence surrounding the place. Piles of scrap and metal were scattered everywhere, some of them glimmering under the faint moonlight. The old man and Martin continued to stare at each other for about three minutes. Those weren't just passing glances; they were more like a silent duel between two people, each trying to understand the other.

Finally, the old man decided to speak. "My name is Dmitry Novikov, a former scientist." His words were full of confidence, but he spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper, as if afraid someone other than Martin might hear him.

Martin opened his eyes in surprise, and a series of thoughts began to spin in his head: "A Russian name... Is he a spy?" But he didn't let his doubts show on his face; instead, he decided to reply calmly, "Martin Voight, an investor and businessman."

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A strange smile appeared on Novikov's face, a mixture of curiosity and mockery. "Hmm, a businessman? What is a businessman doing in the slums? I thought the rich were disgusted by lower forms of life..."

Martin smiled coldly, but his grip on the gun in his jacket tightened. "A scientist? Your foot tells a lot. For a Russian scientist in hiding, I should be the one asking questions, shouldn't I?... Adding to this kind of technology... something I've never seen before. It really piques my interest..."

Novikov's smile widened as if Martin had struck a sensitive chord: "Hahaha, it piques your interest? Maybe some things can turn your life into hell... So tell me, why did you save me...?"

Novikov's question was surprising, but he knew Martin would face a moment of doubt about his intentions. Martin replied calmly, "It's just that we share some viewpoints..."

Novikov raised an eyebrow, "Viewpoints?"

Martin smiled coldly, "Yes, we both hate scum. I felt disgusted by their looks at that moment, so I decided to lend a hand." Martin said while looking up at the starry sky, as if trying to find meaning in this strange situation.

Novikov laughed out loud, "Ahahaha, interesting, interesting..." He was about to continue his speech, but Martin quickly interrupted him: "Old man, what interests me is seeing the eagle insignia. I don't see any tension in your eyes. Aren't you afraid? If I handed you over and the technology in your foot, I could gain a great favor from influential people."

A bitter smile appeared on Novikov's face, "This old man is not what you think. I'm just a walking corpse; my body can no longer endure..."

His words were filled with mystery, and before Martin could fully grasp them, suddenly, another electric spark appeared in Novikov's hand. A bloody wave spread from his finger before transforming into a delicate device resembling a processor. But the terrifying thing was that it was filled with vessels and veins, much like a human heart, beating slowly.

Novikov paused for a moment, staring at this "heart" in his hand. "Martin, what do you think about listening to this old man for a while? In reality, I never believed in fate. We grew up under a terrifying oppression in the Soviet Union. It was a time of fear and repression until the union collapsed. That's when everything began to change; the leaders started focusing on artificial intelligence, and I was part of the main development team. What you see now is the result of the pinnacle of human development, and everything was going well until that devil came."

Martin looked calmly at Novikov and nodded for him to continue. "He promised everyone equality and the revival of a great Russia. We worked day and night for this project, but what we didn't know was that everything was just an illusion. All he sought was immortality by making the machine absorb the lives of millions of humans to develop the body and soul... It was only when this old man discovered it too late. Millions of Russians paid with their lives to feed the project and create a real life, one capable of understanding the secrets of the soul and developing it..."

"What pains this old man is that this devil has now become a national hero in the East..."

"I think you know him well; his name was 'Vladimir Putin,' the current President of Russia..." Novikov said with a grave expression on his face.

Novikov's words were revealing and filled with despair and anger. Martin's face began to show signs of seriousness, and he continued to look at Novikov for him to continue his story.

Novikov looked away for a moment, as if recalling distant memories. "In fact, when this old man and his team discovered the truth, they had no choice but to destroy the project... But, the form of life was already alive and clinging to this old man's body. At that time, there was nothing I could do but flee, endure all hardships, and seek asylum as a political refugee through Romania to the United States, hiding in poor neighborhoods to avoid suspicion. At least, the most they could do was consider me a spy during the ongoing Russian-Ukrainian war at the time..."

"But what this old man didn't know was that the program had not yet been saturated with life to reach transcendence. So, that devil exploited NATO's approach to the borders as a main pretext... to start a war so no one would notice his actions... and continue to feed the advanced form of life, and that was finally completed, exploiting the toll of thousands of innocent lives from both countries. His last condition is to absorb me, Dmitry Novikov, to death..."

A look of self-denial appeared on Novikov's face, mixed with regret and despair. There was a weight to his words, as if each word was carving into the depths of his soul.

Martin continued to look calmly at Novikov, trying to understand more deeply what was going on. "So, Novikov, why are you telling me all this? You don't think I want to be your psychiatrist, do you?"

The question was aimed at testing Novikov's intentions, trying to see if the old man had other plans or if he wanted to recruit Martin to help him with something bigger and more dangerous.

Novikov smiled with a strange look on his face, saying,

"Martin, this old man is filled with regret and doesn't have many days left to live. All I want is to entrust this thing to someone who can control it, someone who will prevent it from falling into the hands of a devil who could cause a new world war..."

As he said these words, Novikov didn't know he had committed his greatest sin before his death and that he had led his program into the hands of a true devil.