But Henry refused to leave, unusually blunt this time.
"I don't want to join him. Look at him—he's trying to exploit you. And then… everything I've done doesn't make me a legitimate doctor. I bought corpses from the black market, prescribed medication without proper guidance. Do you really think that makes me an official physician? I could actually be punished for this. This is absurd—crossing red lines."
Kayden stared at him for a moment, then replied with visible impatience,
"You and I aren't that different, Henry. We've both crossed boundaries in our own ways. The only difference is that we no longer have the luxury of backing out. At the very least… we won't give him our approval immediately."
Henry stood in silence, thinking, before speaking calmly,"What about your friend? He's more capable than I am."
Kayden frowned for a brief moment, as if the question had struck a sensitive nerve, then answered with restrained sharpness,
"He's in the library. If you want to see him, then we'll wait until he's finished."
The brothers left after their discussion, and when Ayrton saw them, he sighed and said,
"We really do need a doctor."
Inside the carriage, everyone sat in silence for a few moments, until Henry broke the tension with a question.
"Why do you need a doctor? Can't you find an official one?"
Ayrton sat upright, then replied in a low but unwavering voice that allowed no argument,
"First… we tried. But official doctors refuse—they run away because of the dangers we face. The injuries aren't normal either. Some of them go beyond the limits of human understanding. That's why we need a devoted doctor—someone who understands how to deal with essence-based powers, not just a body that bleeds or a bone that breaks."
He extended his fingers forward, moving them in a straight line as if tracing the path, then continued,
"Secondly… you possess a spiritual essence. True, it's dormant now because of your negligence, but it won't remain so. It will awaken… and it will ignite; your contact with the enchanters makes this path inevitable, whether you like it or not."
He paused for a moment, then raised his gaze directly at Henry, " And thirdly… you will be trained in everything you need to become a powerful enchanter, and an official doctor upon graduation—indeed, more than that, a distinguished doctor in our ranks. This isn't just an opportunity… it's a blessing. Grasp it before it's taken from your hands."
Henry nodded attentively, beginning to see the full picture. Kayden remained silent, eyes half-closed as he looked at the road stretching ahead.
Henry asked after a moment of thought,
"Don't you have Adam? He entered and handled the corpse as he pleased."
Ayrton laughed sarcastically, "Adam isn't a doctor, but he has experience… it's hard to deny his talent."
Ayrton felt some relief; Henry seemed easy to convince, unlike Kayden, who closed his eyes as if fleeing the conversation—though his ears were still listening.
As they neared their destination, Ayrton said deliberately, "We've arrived."
The place hadn't changed much since the last time Kayden had been here… except for a new underground floor. The air was excessively cold. 'Is this a mortuary?' Kayden wondered. Perhaps… the environment suited it.
As soon as they entered the room, the features of an elderly man, Walter, became visible. He stood in the center, holding a folder and a sheet covered in messy, nearly illegible handwriting.
Walter stood calmly, greeted them, then handed the papers to Ayrton.
"Sir, Adam dissected the corpse and completed all necessary procedures. Death was confirmed before the flowers grew inside the body… a clean death, without contamination. No abnormal effects were found except for those flowers sprouting from within."
Ayrton took the papers without looking at them, his eyes fixed on the corpse lying on the metal table. He murmured words heavier than the air itself, "Why didn't Adam wait?"
"He doesn't wait. He does what he wants, whenever he wants," Walter said coldly, as if explaining a sacred ritual.
Ayrton nodded, then turned to Kayden, who remained silent, and said, "Examine it yourself. Sometimes, corpses tell us what others cannot see."
Kayden slowly put on his gloves and approached the corpse with deliberate steps. The white light of the room seemed dim, as if the place itself were sick.
The air was heavy with the scent of chemicals and death, as if life itself quietly drained from around them.
Everything appeared normal… or so it seemed at first glance.
Until he reached the heart. There, in the meticulously opened chest cavity, Kayden noticed something unusual.
His expression stiffened, a cold shiver running down his neck.
A small violet flower, still alive, despite the environment being inhospitable to life.
Kayden moved with measured steps, as if performing a routine task unworthy of attention. He turned his back to them, silently grateful that Henry's chatter had distracted them from noticing.
He pulled a handkerchief from his coat and quickly removed the flower, his hands moving lightly, as if handling living proof of a great lie he did not want anyone to see.
He scanned the room sharply, as if searching for eyes lurking, then tucked the flower into the handkerchief and folded it tightly, as if strangling a secret.
'This cannot be a coincidence… no one touched the corpse but me. Adam… he placed it. This environment cannot allow anything to grow.' He regained his composure with difficulty, carefully rearranged the corpse with cold precision, then let out a long breath, swallowing the turmoil inside him.
"I have nothing to add, sir," he said in a steady voice.
"Really?" Ayrton smiled, asking. Kayden nodded several times, "Yes, nothing."
Kayden climbed upstairs, where the air carried no weight of blood—but another weight remained… Adam's presence.
Adam sat casually on the sofa, legs crossed, reading an old-looking notebook. Wisps of smoke from his cigar curled lazily into the air.
Kayden sat beside him without looking at him, tension rising inside, thoughts colliding.
'Do I confront him? Or remain silent? Do I destroy the flower? Or keep it?'
Even the smell of smoke—so heavy that Kayden had not noticed it until now—was an added burden.
He glanced at Adam, who smoked silently, his face unreadable. 'They told me he's insane… that he really is!'
Suddenly, Kayden stood and said hesitantly,
"May I borrow your lighter?"
Adam slowly raised his head and looked at him, as if seeing the answer before the question,
"Planning to tamper with evidence?" His low voice hit Kayden like a cold bullet.
"What evidence?" Kayden asked, feigning ignorance, though his heart pounded.
Adam rose and walked with quiet, deliberate steps, then gestured toward the corridor,
"I'll show you the bathroom."
Kayden followed, thinking through every detail, every word, until he whispered,
"The flowers in that experiment cannot grow in such an environment… not even under the light. The flower you placed couldn't have grown—it was placed during the dissection."
Adam stopped, turned to him, and exhaled a long stream of smoke,
"So it's fake evidence… why do you want to destroy it?"
Kayden placed his hand on his chin, thinking,
"Because I don't want to make this more complicated than it already is."
"And why not?" Adam asked, speaking as if to a child.
"Because I have no motive… I'm still searching for something to hold on to," Kayden replied.
Adam chuckled softly, "A classic answer… from a suicidal man, a man who lost his purpose and tries to stay alive by finding a new one. How sad."
Kayden glared, "Then why did you place the evidence?"
Adam raised his eyes to the ceiling as if watching a thought fly there, and spoke coldly,
"What evidence? Maybe you're imagining things… maybe you need rest before thinking about suicide again."
Kayden stiffened, as if the air itself had grown heavier, finally believing Adam truly was unstable.
"This is unbelievable… the rumors are true!"
Adam turned slowly, "What rumors?" he asked lightly.
"You're oblivious?" Kayden asked, trying to discern if Adam was mocking him or if this was real.
"There are too many rumors, so I can't tell anymore. Tell me—what are the new ones?"
Kayden shrugged indifferently, "Ask yourself."
Adam stopped at the end of the corridor, near an old wooden door, and lazily gestured,
"The bathroom is there…" He smiled faintly, then took the lighter and cigarettes from his coat pocket and handed them to Kayden.
But before letting go, he held the lighter for a second, winking at Kayden, "I want only the lighter… not the cigarettes."
Kayden murmured, staring at the lighter in his hand.
Adam looked at him with a meaningful gaze.
"You're a fool. You hold this lighter for a reason… a noble one, though I still don't know what it is."
"You know what it is," Kayden corrected immediately.
"Really? But if you want to stay clear of suspicion, keep the cigarettes too. Don't let anyone ask why you're carrying a lighter without cigarettes."
He paused for a moment, then continued sarcastically, staring at Kayden,
"It's not just about the task… it's about making it perfect. Even the smallest details matter. Ignore them, and they'll expose you."
"Enjoy yourself," he said quietly, then tilted his head slightly,
"And don't forget to return my things…"
As Kayden looked at the objects carefully, he decided in silence not to return them.
The lighter was more a work of art than a tool—crafted from a dark, matte metal, slightly rough along the edges. On its left side, a small human heart was engraved, its details delicate. Tiny silver threads branched from the heart, wrapping around the metallic body like roots encircling a grave, ending in a single eye engraved on the back.
Kayden sat in the bathroom for a while and began opening the lighter.
Each time it clicked open, a sharp sound rang out. He repeated the action several times.
"I won't return it. Any man in my world who smokes would want it," he muttered.
After burning the small violet flower, he watched it turn to fine ash before the water swept it away. He washed his hands thoroughly, then left the bathroom and returned to Ayrton's office, where Ayrton was still deeply engrossed in a long discussion about salaries and bonuses.
Kayden sat in front of Henry without interrupting him, content to listen until the end.
"Sir… give us a week to think it over," Kayden said politely, measured, as if he didn't want to open another door for discussion.
Then he rose immediately afterward, his movement decisive and swift, as if he had ended the battle within himself before it even began at the table.
"The time's late. Henry? Colton is waiting for us."
Henry hesitated for a moment, then stood as well, bidding Ayrton a brief farewell before following his brother without looking back. His steps were faster than usual, as if afraid of letting Kayden get too far ahead.
As they walked, Henry murmured quietly, more to convince himself than anyone else,
"It's a good opportunity…"
Kayden didn't stop or turn, replying in a calm voice that masked a hidden unease,
"Anything is better than training at home, but we mustn't rush."
Yet his tone carried no enthusiasm; it sounded more like a sarcastic admission that training at home had never really been training, but a prolonged punishment.
Later, they entered a small café on a quiet street and went up to the second floor, where the tables were less crowded. They sat near a window overlooking the street, bathed in dim lights that danced softly on the worn cobblestones below.
It wasn't long before Colton appeared, walking quickly, his gaze taut, and sat directly across from Kayden, as if he had a lot to say waiting in his mind.
Kayden began recounting what had happened, his tone steady, almost neutral, laying the facts on the table without exaggeration or emotion.
Colton furrowed his brows and ran his hand over his head in irritation, exhaling deeply.
"You're still playing hard to get?" Colton said, his impatience clear.