On the second floor of the Kaspus Bar building, a private room was sealed off from the noisy crowd below. The dim yellow lights flickered slightly, and the smell of alcohol and old smoke hung in the air. Three unknown men had arrived to meet Governor Adolf and Ricardo Russo.
They were seated casually on a worn leather couch.
One of them had grey hair and sharp silver eyes. He wore a perfectly tailored gray double-breasted suit, the kind that screamed authority. In his right hand was a Beretta pistol, which he casually waved in the air as if it were a toy, not a weapon. His posture was relaxed, but his presence felt heavy.
Beside him sat a man with blue hair and deep black eyes. He wore a half-sleeve pink shirt, unbuttoned slightly at the top. A star-shaped tattoo was clearly visible on the side of his neck. He glanced at the governor with an amused smile and then looked at the man with the gun.
"Are you trying to scare the governor, you little puppy?" he mocked.
The grey-haired man's eyes narrowed.
"I am from Deccan," he said coldly. "Watch your mouth when you talk."
The star-tattooed man laughed softly.
"Why are you taking it personally? I know you're a lion, Caesón. I only say that because we've been on the same side for a long time."
A third man sat beside them in silence. He had curly black hair, wore spectacles, and kept his hands folded on his lap. His eyes moved quietly, observing everyone in the room.
The star-tattooed man leaned closer to him and smirked.
"Alfred, why are you so silent? Cat got your tongue?"
Across from them, on another couch, Governor Adolf and Ricardo Russo were seated with rigid expressions. Three of the governor's bodyguards stood behind him, hands near their weapons. Ricardo had his own man James standing nearby—a tall figure with a sword tattoo carved along his left arm.
Ricardo finally broke the silence.
"So… Mr. Caesón Moon," he said, nodding toward the man with the Beretta. "Mr. Junwell Amana," he added, glancing at the star-tattooed man. "And Mr. Alfred Hart."
"You three being here is an honor," Ricardo continued. "We welcome you. We're all here because of a plan. And yes, Governor Adolf of Florith is providing the way to complete it."
Junwell scratched the back of his head dramatically.
"Well, everything sounds nice, but what exactly is your plan? I literally forgot it."
Ricardo sighed with a faint smile.
"My mistake. I should've explained earlier. We are going to change the president's seat. Governor Adolf will become the new president."
Caesón straightened up.
"What?" he said sharply. "Why the governor?"
Alfred finally spoke, his tone calm but cutting.
"So you want to become president? Look at yourself—you look like some kind of maniac."
Caesón snapped back instantly.
"What did you say? Why are you talking now? You look better when you don't."
Junwell raised his hands slightly, calming the tension.
"Fine. But what's our benefit in all this? And on top of that—why are you doing this?"
Ricardo leaned forward, his voice low.
"I need control over the seaports. And the banks too."
Junwell chuckled.
"Ah, so you're power-hungry as well."
"Alright," Junwell continued. "What are you planning to give us?"
"Money," Ricardo replied without hesitation.
Alfred shook his head.
"No. We already make good money."
Caesón smirked.
"Then remove our names from the wanted list."
Junwell added casually,
"And we want equity in the seaports as well."
The governor exchanged a glance with Ricardo before nodding.
"Okay," Governor Adolf said. "We will."
Meanwhile, Vaelor and Truman reached Hotel Doomer, room number 21. Truman unlocked the door using the key he had taken from the reception.
The room was a mess. Drawers were pulled out, sheets were overturned, and the cupboard stood wide open. It was obvious—police had already searched the place.
Truman let out a frustrated smile.
"Looks like we're late."
Vaelor sighed and looked around.
"So what now? We have nothing."
"I'll check the bathroom," Truman said. "You search the bedroom."
Truman searched the bathroom from left to right—behind the mirror, under the sink, inside the broken cabinet. Vaelor scanned the bedroom, checking under the bed, inside pillows, and behind the curtains.
Nothing.
No clues. No evidence.
With empty hands and heavy thoughts, Vaelor and Truman stepped out of the room, the door closing quietly behind them
Truman leaned against the hallway wall and let out a long breath. He looked at Vaelor, frustration clearly written on his face.
"How are we supposed to solve this case?" Truman said. "A man disappears from a room, all his stuff is still here, and there isn't even a single clue left behind."
Vaelor stood near the door, staring at the empty room as if the walls themselves might answer him. He pressed his fingers to his temple, forcing his brain to work, but nothing connected. He only got thought of the movies that he watched last night. Deep inside, one thought kept echoing—I need Perun.
Truman noticed his expression.
"What are you thinking, Vaelor?" he asked.
Vaelor snapped back to reality.
"Ah… me?" he said slowly. "Yeah… this shouldn't be possible. It doesn't make sense."
On the other side of the city, Doret. Perun and melody stood in the kitchen. The lights were warm, and the place felt calm compared to the chaos outside. Both of them were drinking water, leaning lightly against the counter.
Perun broke the silence.
"Why are these kinds of people against your family?" he asked carefully.
Melody hesitated before answering.
"I don't know much," she said. "Dad always says there's nothing in politics. But I think he doesn't really know who's behind all this. Still… they keep sending warnings."
Perun studied her expression. She looked unsure, almost scared, but trying to hide it.
After a pause, Perun asked another question.
"Why does your father always take security from Alpha Angel?"
Melody shrugged slightly.
"Oh, that's because Dad and Mr. Edward have been good friends for many years."
Perun nodded.
"Okay."
They finished their water and started walking together toward the living room. The house was quiet, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly.
Suddenly, Melody spoke again, as if remembering something important.
"Oh, yeah. My uncle—Lukman Cooper—he's the half owner of Alpha Angel."
The moment Perun heard that name, his steps slowed. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Lukman Cooper…
A faint memory stirred in his mind.
Perun didn't say anything, but the recall was clear.