— A Word That Seals Loyalty —
Eren narrowed his eyes.
The air itself seemed to tighten under his gaze, as though something invisible had drawn a blade and dragged its edge slowly across every face present. One by one, the so-called titans of industry—men and women who once commanded storms of capital and influence—felt a chill crawl up their spines.
"Listen carefully."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
It carried no threat, no raised volume—only certainty.
"From this day forward," Eren continued,
"if anyone harbors disloyal thoughts toward Lyra—
Hawthorne's fate will be yours."
The name fell like a verdict.
No one dared inhale too loudly.
These powerful figures, who had once laughed at law and bent regulations at will, now stood frozen—mute as cicadas buried beneath winter soil. Heads bowed almost in unison. Submissive nods followed, sharp and eager, as though fear itself had seized control of their necks.
This was not persuasion.
It was extermination made conditional.
Satisfied, Eren turned away.
He did not wait for applause.
Men like him never did.
— The Guardian Who Walks Away —
"W-Wait—are you... are you leaving?"
Lyra hurried after him, the heels of her shoes echoing too loudly in the sudden silence. The moment his back turned, the tension in the room seemed to collapse inward, leaving only her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
Thanks to him, she knew—no one here would ever dare challenge her again.
She wanted to stop him.
Wanted to run to him, to pour out the fear she had swallowed whole these past days, to tell him how close she had come to losing everything—her company, her future, her life.
But another thought strangled the impulse at its root.
I'm no longer pure.
The word burned.
After everything that had happened... how could she possibly be worthy of standing beside someone like him?
Eren's steps faltered—for the briefest heartbeat.
He did not turn.
"If you need me," he said evenly, "contact me through Darius."
A pause.
"And the Bentley with plate NA68688..."
His tone shifted, almost imperceptibly.
"It was previously Lucien Veyne's personal vehicle. Correct?"
The words struck Lyra like a physical blow.
Her breath caught.
Her vision blurred for a fraction of a second.
H-How... how did he know?
That was her father's car. A detail buried deep within private family records—something no outsider should have access to.
Just who... who are you?
She stood frozen as he walked away, staring at his retreating back as though trying to carve his silhouette into memory. Even after he disappeared from view entirely, she didn't move.
Only when the corridor had fully swallowed his presence did she release a long, soft sigh—one laced with relief, confusion, and something dangerously close to longing—before returning to her office alone.
— Gifts, Debt, and the Shadow of Blood —
Not long after, Darius returned.
"Leader Darius," Lyra said softly, a faint trace of disappointment slipping through despite herself. "I thought you had already left as well."
"The Overlord has ordered me to remain," Darius replied without hesitation. "I will continue ensuring your safety, Miss Lyra."
He produced a single A4 sheet and handed it to her.
"He also instructed me to give you this."
"A... formula?"
Puzzled, Lyra took it—and froze.
Her eyes scanned the contents once.
Then again.
Moments later, her pupils contracted sharply.
"This—this uses quantum entanglement principles..." Her voice trembled despite her effort to steady it. "To treat consciousness disorders? This isn't theory—this is executable. If released... HelixPharm's valuation would skyrocket exponentially!"
She looked up in disbelief.
This single page held the power to create an empire.
And he had handed it to her as casually as one might offer shelter from the rain.
"Please tell him," Lyra said at last, her voice firm, resolute, "that I will use this formula for the benefit of all. From today onward, HelixPharm stands with him."
If not for him, she would already be dead.
HelixPharm would be nothing but ruins and legal debris.
The thought stirred another memory—another formula.
One drenched in blood.
A cold smirk touched her lips.
Eren... even without using a murderer's formula, I, Lyra, can still win this war.
Darius nodded. Then, from within his coat, he produced two slightly crudely crafted jade talismans. He placed one into her palm.
"This is also a gift from the Overlord," he said. "The paper charm could only protect you for three days. This jade talisman will last a year. You must keep it on you at all times."
"What...?" Lyra whispered.
She numbly pulled out the paper charm Aveline had given her earlier.
So... from the very beginning—
he had been watching over her from the shadows.
Her gaze drifted, unfocused.
"This debt..." she murmured softly, "I'm afraid I'll never be able to repay it in this lifetime."
---
Eren had just settled into the car when his phone rang.
He froze.
The caller ID glowed on the screen:
Sunshine Orphanage — Granny Lucy
His fingers tightened.
That orphanage was his past.
Granny Lucy was the woman who had raised him when the world offered nothing else.
Did she know... about him?
With a heart he hadn't felt tremble in years, Eren answered.
But the voice that came through wasn't hers.
It was rough. Cruel. Mocking.
"You that little shit Eren?" the man barked.
"Listen up, punk. Gary. Trinity Syndicate."
A pause—deliberate, savoring.
"You think what happened the day before yesterday is over? Dream on. If you want the old hag and these brats to stay in one piece—get your ass over here and die like a man."
In the background—
Children crying.
Eren's expression twisted instantly.
"Eren! Don't come! Stay away!"
Granny Lucy's voice broke through the noise—strained, trembling, desperate.
Something ancient and violent stirred behind Eren's eyes.
The Silent Guardian had found his next battlefield.