Day 40, Year 988, 41st Millennium
Currently, Vann and Draco, dressed in civilian clothes, stood before the checkpoint marking the border between the territories of House Korvax and House Thalric.
Vann was on a critical mission to gather intelligence regarding a certain nobleman. He needed to extract as much information as possible to ensure his plan was executed with absolute precision.
It wasn't that he hated opposition; in council meetings, dissent was normal and often healthy. Reasonable pushback forced everyone to think more deeply, leading to more cautious and well-rounded decisions. However, that applied to reasonable men—not the arrogant, overly ambitious types who refused to listen.
The recent rejection of his request for increased military funding had pushed him to his breaking point. Those nobles had seen firsthand what happened when an enemy appeared while the Planetary Defence Force (PDF) was ill-equipped. This wasn't the first time he had requested a budget increase.
In truth, Vann had been asking for more funding since he first became a General. However, due to a sluggish bureaucracy and the fact that his reforms often stepped on the toes of certain influential figures, the budget never came. Even though he had managed to strengthen the PDF fundamentally through his own means, a proper budget would make them truly formidable.
"Are you sure you want to go in there, sir?" Draco asked hesitantly. Crossing into the other side meant entering a world that was entirely different, a prospect that made many uneasy.
Vann frowned slightly at his subordinate's remark. To him, there wasn't much of a difference between the two sectors. He held no prejudice or bias toward areas with different environments or cultures.
"Don't let the place intimidate you. There's nothing to be afraid of," Vann said, his voice tinged with irritation. He couldn't understand how Draco, a man who had once been a ruthless thug in his gang, could feel nervous about a change in scenery. In the old days, Draco never hesitated to go anywhere Vann ordered.
While the Upper Hive under House Korvax wasn't particularly luxurious—mostly consisting of blocky, utilitarian buildings with minor Gothic accents—the people there worked twelve-hour shifts, much like the laborers in the Lower Hive. The only difference was the physical intensity of the labor. Most of the capital and profits were reinvested into the Upper Hive rather than the Lower, making it a relative paradise for the average citizen.
Vann's brother wasn't fond of the Ecclesiarchy, so the Church's influence was minimal. While a few cathedrals existed within Korvax territory, they didn't pressure the citizens for tithes as they did on other worlds or in other sectors. Vann appreciated this; life felt more grounded when people weren't blinded by religious zeal.
However, crossing into House Thalric's domain was like comparing day to night. It was the complete opposite.
The architectural shift was immediate. Overt Gothic style was visible everywhere. Statues of the God-Emperor and various Saints stood at every street corner. The people were dressed in opulent, extravagant attire, parading through the streets.
Vann ignored the surroundings entirely, leading his subordinate toward a specific location to meet a very important contact.
Before long, they arrived at a lavishly decorated entertainment venue. Inside, the air was thick with loud music and the sight of people losing themselves to dancing, alcohol, and narcotics. A cocktail of scents hit his nose—the sharp sting of various high-end alcohols he recognized well, mixed with heavy perfumes.
Vann cut through the crowd with practiced indifference, while Draco looked increasingly out of place.
"Keep moving. It's just a club, stop acting like that," Vann told his subordinate. He was getting annoyed. Draco had worked with him for over ten years and had never been one to turn down a night out; in fact, he usually enjoyed these kinds of places.
"It's nothing, boss... I'm just worried that if my wife finds out I'm here, she might..." Draco stammered. Vann rolled his eyes. He couldn't believe his subordinate was scared of something so trivial. They weren't there for fun, and Draco's wife didn't seem that terrifying to him.
In fact, he remembered her being quite charming—especially in private.
"Why are you so afraid of her?" Vann scolded Draco, losing his patience. "She's a lovely woman, and I doubt she's going to hunt you down with a chainsword!"
Vann knew exactly how dangerous Draco's wife was. Years ago, her gang held significant influence in the Lower Hive near Vann's territory. Back then, a negotiation regarding territorial boundaries had taken place, which ultimately concluded in the bedroom.
"What did you say, sir?" Draco asked, confused. Vann sighed wearily before admitting to something he rarely spoke of.
"About seven years ago, when we had that turf war... she was the leader of the rival gang. I had to negotiate with her to ensure our survival and minimize the fallout. It ended with us in bed. Clear enough for you? At the time, I felt like I'd lost my pride—I expected to be the one in control, but she certainly took the lead. She's a match for a big guy like you, Draco. So stop being a coward!"
Vann paused to catch his breath. He remembered that experience being... unique and quite enjoyable. He felt a brief flash of guilt for mentioning this to his subordinate in a public place.
"How did I not know about this? She never told me..." Draco's voice shook slightly as he asked another pointless question.
Do you understand women at all? Vann thought bitterly. No woman is going to tell her lover about her past flings, especially not one that might cause trouble. Likewise, no leader tells his subordinate he's been with the subordinate's wife. It was just bad form.
"I remember you were standing guard at the door back then," Vann remarked.
"I was asleep, boss," Draco replied, scratching his head.
"Then it's your own fault you didn't know."
Beep-beep.
The data-slate in Draco's pocket chimed. He checked the device, and his expression shifted as he read the notification. It was good news.
"Sir, it seems the girl has made it back," Draco reported in a level voice. Their network of spies was more extensive than most realized, embedded in every corner of the hive.
"Excellent. Go find her and give her a 'reward' for her troubles. I'll stay here and handle this business alone," Vann ordered.
"Understood, sir," Draco replied before departing.
Vann continued toward his destination with a sense of grim satisfaction. He had known Erica would find a way to survive and reach the Hive City. He felt fortunate she hadn't died out there; otherwise, his investment would have been a total waste.
He walked up to the second floor of the club and stopped before a specific door. Inside, the room was beautifully decorated, bathed in a soft purple glow. A large bed sat to one side, while two plush sofas and a table occupied the center.
The scene was perfected by the presence of a beautiful woman sitting on one of the sofas.
"Hello. It seems we meet again, Vann Korvax," a sweet, seductive voice called out. Though her tone was enchanting, it carried an unmistakable edge of resentment and hatred.
Vann looked at her and smiled as he sat on the sofa opposite her. Although he bristled at being called a "Korvax," he kept his composure.
"Hello, Keshila. I see you're doing well," Vann greeted her.
"Doing well? Are you joking?" Keshila snapped, her voice trembling with anger. "After you refused to help me back then, you have the nerve to come here and mock me?"
Nearly six years ago, Keshila had been desperate for help and turned to Vann. He had turned her away, leaving her to descend into a difficult life as an escort in this sector.
"I'm not here to mock you. I need information," Vann said calmly. "What happened back then was a matter of necessity. You wouldn't have wanted to be executed for aiding a political prisoner, would you? It was your father's fault for picking a fight when my damn brother was leading House Korvax."
Vann spoke without emotion. Six years ago, he was a gang leader in the Lower Hive. His brother Valen's reforms had angered Keshila's father, a minor noble under House Korvax, leading to a failed rebellion. The uprising was crushed ruthlessly by Valen's House Guard.
Almost every member of that family was killed, except for Keshila and her younger siblings, who managed a narrow escape. She had come to Vann for sanctuary, but he had refused to protect his gang from the authorities.
He hadn't heard much about her until recently. The once-luxurious life of a noble's daughter had vanished, replaced by a life of selling herself to provide for her younger siblings.
"What information?" Keshila asked bitterly.
"Information on your regulars. I think you'll find this offer hard to refuse," Vann said, his voice softening as he pulled a check from his coat and slid it across the table. Keshila took it, her eyes widening as she saw the amount. It was enough to stop her "dirty work" and live with dignity for at least a year.
"Whom do you want to know about? I have many regulars," she asked. Vann had come to her for this exact reason. Her beauty drew in nobles and high-ranking officials, making her the perfect informant if one had the coin.
"I need everything you have on Lord Ritus Rist," Vann said, pulling out a small notebook to record the details she was about to provide.
He leaned back comfortably, crossed his legs, and stared directly at her. She met his gaze briefly before reaching for a box full of cigarettes and lighting one.
"Lord Ritus Rist? He's almost the most despicable person I've ever met," she said, exhaling a puff of sweet-smelling cigarette smoke. Vann averted his gaze to jot down every useful detail.
"His tastes are quite unique," Keshila said, moving closer to the table. The purple light from the room's lamps illuminated her face and body, making her appear even more alluring, yet concealing a deep pain.
"As far as I know... he comes here occasionally, mostly for the fleeting pleasures he can find in my body. Sometimes he uses this place as a meeting point for illegal transactions. I also know he embezzles money for his personal gratification, or perhaps for other purposes I don't know about," she continued.
Vann simply jotted down the notes quietly and quickly. He hadn't missed a word she said. Initially, he only wanted to find useful information, but he found more than he expected. It was unexpectedly lucrative information to use against this nobleman, even though most of the information he needed wasn't this type. But it's been incredibly useful.
"And he has another secret..." Keshila whispered, her voice barely audible.
"He's quite afraid of the dark...it might sound funny...every time he's with me, he won't let this room get too dark, not even during our intimate moments...and after we're done, he'll quickly check which data slate he always carries with him. I've seen it before; it's information about smuggled goods they've brought into this hive city."
Meanwhile, Vann nodded periodically, jotting down everything she told him. For an hour, she'd shared almost everything she knew, as if she were offering him a price to pay. This included information about several nobles he recognized, as well as secrets he never imagined were true.
Having gathered the necessary information, Vann closed his notebook and carefully placed it in his jacket pocket. The information he had obtained today was incredibly valuable, far more profitable than the money he had spent.
"Thank you very much, Keshila" Vann said in a flat tone, slightly shifting his body and looking at her. His remaining conscience told him that her current state was due to his failure to help her back then, and he wouldn't regret what he had done. Who would regret doing what was right, what should have been done, instead of what was morally right?
But after almost a minute, he still hadn't gotten up from the sofa, and Keshila, still watching him, finally spoke, her voice tinged with annoyance and a desire for an answer.
"Why haven't you left yet?" she asked, her voice slightly irritated. Vann raised an eyebrow before chuckling softly and replying:
"Why should I leave when I haven't finished all my business?" he answered with a natural smile, not a forced one at all. His single, yellow eye made it difficult to discern his true feelings.
"What else do you need?" "Keshila asked, slowly leaning back and resting her hands on the sofa, taking a deep breath and looking at Vann defiantly.
"Haha, serve me," he said, laughing, and picked up another check, handing it to her. In truth, he felt miraculously strong for not having been intimate with anyone since enlisting in the military. It completely contradicted his flirtatious nature, but this endurance allowed him to resist women's temptations to a certain extent.
She accepted the check and looked at him with a softer gaze before replying in a gentler voice,
"As you wish. I think the bed is more convenient." Keshila rose from the sofa and slowly walked towards Vann, sitting on his lap.
"I think I prefer the sofa. It's more exciting." He simply supported her with his right arm while using his left finger to cover her mouth, preventing her from saying anything more. His cybernetic right arm held her firmly while his left hand moved down to her buttocks.
"Are you going to use the same old tricks you've used to charm so many women again?" Keshila said with a weary and sarcastic tone. Vann, who looked at her with a sincere expression, simply chuckled softly before replying in an amused tone
"If this trick isn't good, why don't I switch to a different one?" Vann said, pressing his lips against hers. Their tongues intertwined hungrily. After a passionate kiss, a soft moan of pleasure escaped Keshilā's throat as his hands moved restlessly, slowly undressing her.
He broke the kiss, looking at her with an expression that could only be described as utterly captivating. His handsome face, though partially damaged by shrapnel, was still intact.
"You know, you're still the same... Missed me?" Vann asked softly. Keshilā frowned, clenching her fist and lightly punching his shoulder.
"Stop pretending... Who would miss someone like you? A womanizer and selfish man who left me like this. I hate you," she said, still frowning, but at the same time, she pushed aside his coat and unbuttoned his other shirt.
"I think you're just as fake as I am... you can't fool me," he said with a light laugh before using his left hand to cup her left breast and begin gently massaging it. He seemed to enjoy playing with her large breasts.
"Mmm... I hate spoiled brats like you. I shouldn't have convinced my father to send you money and weapons. I should have let your gang be attacked and destroyed by rival gangs," she cursed, trying to suppress her moans of pleasure.
"But you did it for me, didn't you?" he said with a not-so-trustworthy smile before moving his fingers to her nipple and lightly flicking it. She gritted her teeth, breathing heavily, trying to stifle her moans while simultaneously squeezing his shoulders.
Vann smirked before kissing her neck, then moving down from her neck to her collarbone, and then to her right breast.
"Ahhh...." Kesila moaned as he gently bit her nipple and then used his tongue. She breathed faster and moved her hand up to grip his short hair tightly. Vann felt a slight pain, but he didn't complain. This small feeling didn't bother him in the least. He released her right breast before smiling at her and saying,
"Hurry up, I don't have much time," he said, while his left hand continued to playfully caress her left breast.
"Seriously, now that you're a general, aren't you afraid this will get out?" Kesilla tried to challenge him. Vann was slightly amused by this. If this got out, what additional consequences would it have on him?
The answer was almost none.
He was already a new general, and the nobles and others knew he was untrustworthy. Mostly because of his past as a dissolute man and former gang leader in the Lower Hive. If his relationship with a prostitute was revealed, it wouldn't affect his reputation much more than it already had.
"Why should I be afraid? It doesn't make me look bad, especially if I already look bad in the eyes of others," he said nonchalantly before helping her sit upright on his lap.
"You know, your most dangerous weapon is your mouth and your hypocrisy." "Keshila subtly insulted him before getting up and slowly and provocatively removing the rest of her clothes. She tossed them aside and bent down to remove his top.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Vann replied with a smile, his eyes fixed on her beautiful body before him, his smile barely lingering.
"You know, right now you look like a kid wanting candy," Keshila remarked, comparing him to a child wanting candy as she unbuckled his belt, revealing his fully erect penis without his pants covering it.
"I haven't had sex like this in a while, and it's good to release some tension," he said softly, his gaze still fixed on her large breasts and crotch with lust.
"I didn't think you'd last this long, but you paid me," Keshila said, kneeling on the sofa astride Vann. Her hands gripped his shoulders before she likely guided his penis into place and slowly lowered herself onto him, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips.
" Don't underestimate my patience," he whispered in her ear. She began moving up and down slowly before increasing the speed. They were passionately engaged in a lovemaking session, the rhythmic sounds of their bodies colliding echoing. There was no conversation, only the moans they neither tried to suppress. Keshirra always moaned loudest. As she moved, Vann didn't keep his hands idle. His left hand grasped her soft buttocks while his other hand caressed her large breasts, gently caressing her nipples with his fingers.
_It would be so much better if I hadn't lost my right arm,_ Vann thought regretfully. In truth, his cybernetic right arm was good, but it wasn't equipped with artificial senses. He longed to feel with his right arm again, but the pleasure he felt now would make up for it.
With each movement, her breasts heaved from the impact. Each thrust gave him an indescribable feeling of pleasure—a familiar sensation he loved. At that moment, her breathing quickened, and she gripped his shoulders tightly.
"Looks like you're going to finish before me," he said with a smirk. It was obvious she was exhausted, while he was practically fine. His training had made him adept at handling strenuous activity and continuous work; this didn't affect him at all. But he felt he was reaching his limit as well.
"I'm just tired," Keshila tried to say, even though she was breathing heavily and in bliss. Vann smiled before supporting her back and suddenly changing positions.
"What are you doing?!" she exclaimed in shock as he lifted her onto the sofa, now on top of her, and taking the lead.
"Ahh.....ahh....ahh "
Keshila covered her mouth to stifle a moan, but Vann swatted her hand away before kissing her passionately and intensely. He moved his hips in a slow but sometimes fast rhythm. And in no time at all, he thrust his hips against her one last time before sighing as he reached his climax.
He caught his breath for a moment before deciding to carry her to the nearby bed, thinking the sofa was too cramped.
.
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After about an hour, both of them lay exhausted on the bed. After being moved from the sofa to the bed, their bodies were drenched in sweat. Kesilla lay on the bed, completely worn out; she had reached orgasm multiple times in that hour. Thick white fluid flowed from between her legs. Under the purple light, her sweat-soaked breasts and body glistened beautifully.
Vann slowly pushed himself up, stretching slightly as if he had just finished some light exercise. Then he calmly and cheerfully put on his clothes that had fallen on the floor. He felt much more comfortable and happier than before. After this, he would probably go and take care of his work and the matter with that nobleman. This data-gathering trip had been quite worthwhile.
"Are you leaving already? Won't you stay a little longer?" Kesilla turned to Vann. As she was getting dressed, she felt completely drained of energy after her recent encounter with Vann.
"I have work to do... and don't worry, I'll be back," Vann replied in a softer, more cheerful tone as he buttoned his shirt and straightened his clothes.
________________________________________
The rhythmic flickering of the fluorescent light slowly roused Eric from his slumber. He opened his eyes to a plain white ceiling. The first things he registered were the sterile scent of antiseptic and medical equipment, and the sensation of breathing clean air without the stifling filter of a gas mask.
His last memory was of hallucinating and speaking to that hallucination before losing consciousness. He had agreed to the terms of a black smoke entity with red eyes. It couldn't have been real... he must have been hallucinating. His body, pushed to the brink, had likely conjured the delusion.
And now, how was he here? Someone must have rescued him.
Eric slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable. The aches and fever were gone, replaced only by a slight lingering fatigue. His filthy coat, worn for four straight days and saturated with chemical residue from the air and sand, had been replaced by a thin, pale hospital gown.
So thin... but whatever, Eric grumbled internally, looking down at his current attire. It was far too flimsy for his taste, but considering everything had been taken care of—his illness and injuries treated, his hunger gone—he sighed in relief. Complaining about the clothes now would be petty.
"Great. Comfy as hell," he murmured, leaning back against the pillow. Even though the bedding was somewhat hard, he didn't complain; it felt soft compared to the sandy ground and the rough shelters outside. The feeling was so good he almost wanted to cry. No more walking, no fighting sandstorms, no paranoia about mutants and Orks, and no enduring hunger.
Still, a pang of sadness remained at the thought of Arcas leaving him alone back there. Even though the reason was sound, it still hurt.
It's in the past... don't dwell on it, he told himself. He always tried to tell himself this whenever something bad happened, and it usually worked well enough. What's done is done; dwelling on it was useless.
He was enjoying the moment when suddenly, heavy footsteps approached the room. Eric startled, instinctively pulling the blanket up to his chest in fear and paranoia, staring intently at the door.
A man walked in. He was definitely a soldier, wearing a uniform similar to the PDF but in cream, with copper-colored chest, shin, and greave armor. His head was shaved clean, and a white bandage covered his right eye. His left eye, however, revealed a mysterious, unnaturally bright purple iris. His face bore scars, and his skin was as pale as Eric's own.
Eric recognized him immediately. The man who had punched him in the stomach, spoken incomprehensibly, and then walked away without looking back. And now, he was walking straight toward Eric's bed.
Omega stopped by the bedside, looking down at the young woman with many questions.
Eric, under that gaze, pursed his lips tightly, feeling uncomfortable. It felt as if he were being read or interrogated in detail.
"We have met before... I will introduce myself. I am Omega, Commander of the House Guard of House Korvax," Omega introduced himself politely.
Eric tensed even more. He hadn't expected this man to be a commander of a large military force, the private army of half of Hive Kathion's ruler. This was bad. At first, he thought the guy was just a regular soldier!
"I am Erica de la Cruz, sir," Eric introduced himself in return, his voice polite, as one would speak to a superior.
"Pleasure to meet you, Erica. It is not every day I find a resident of the Upper Hive unconscious by the Hive City wall," Omega said in an emotionless, simple, yet powerful tone. He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned forward slightly, looking directly into Eric's eyes.
Eric felt a pressure radiating from Omega. Even though the other man wasn't overtly threatening and seemed polite, Eric felt extremely threatened.
"What were you doing out there?" Omega asked, his tone demanding an answer.
Eric gritted his teeth, trying to find a way out of this situation. He couldn't mention Vann, and he couldn't mention Arcas either, as that would raise more suspicion. And if he mentioned the black smoke that spoke to him, no one would believe him.
"Uh... well... about five days ago, while I was returning to my room, I was kidnapped. I woke up outside. I walked about 30 kilometers over four days, avoiding Orks and mutants. Food was very limited, and I was injured and sick. I traveled until I reached the Hive City wall and collapsed from exhaustion... until you or someone else saved me," he tried to explain, making his voice sound like a pitiful, unfortunate citizen who had miraculously survived, while trying to meet Omega's single eye to hide his deception.
"And how did you survive the Orks?" Omega asked with suspicion and distrust.
Eric frowned immediately. $Why won't he stop prying? _Eric complained internally. He didn't understand why people in this world had to ask so many questions. Where had all the trust gone?
_Oh... right,_ he exclaimed internally. Trust was a rare commodity in this dark future. It was only natural for Omega to ask; if Eric were in his shoes, he would ask the same. The story sounded incredibly fishy.
"Uh... during the journey, I tried to avoid confronting them as much as possible, sir," Eric replied, recalling his survival over the three days before meeting Arcas. Traveling with the constant paranoia that something would pop out of the sandstorm, using stealth skills and the terrain to hide and survive. It had been terrible. At first, he couldn't fight at all without a weapon, and even with one, a direct confrontation wasn't advisable.
He wondered if Omega would believe him or remain suspicious.
"Hmm... plausible enough," Omega said in a tone that betrayed no emotion.
"Did you use your psychic powers to heal yourself?" Omega asked, changing the subject.
Eric couldn't help but scratch his head lightly. He was facing something he didn't understand again. Before he passed out, the humanoid black smoke had said the same thing, and Omega had mentioned it once before.
"I am afraid I cannot give you a satisfactory answer, sir, because... I do not understand what psychic powers you are referring to."
"I felt and sensed you using your psychic power to do something, but I do not yet know what. And did you hear any voices? A voice that seemed to come from inside your head but was not your own thoughts?" Omega probed deeper.
Eric raised an eyebrow in confusion. He thought this commander was losing it. There was no way he heard other people's voices or non-self voices in his head. He wasn't a psychiatric patient.
"No, sir. I didn't hear anything," Eric replied honestly and without hiding anything.
Omega nodded in satisfaction before asking further, "Do you feel headaches or have any strange symptoms?"
Eric frowned at the question. He started to feel strange and suspicious about Omega's line of questioning. He wasn't sure what this guy wanted.
"No, sir," he replied. He didn't know if he was imagining it, but Omega seemed even creepier now. He tried to turn his face away to look at the milky white ceiling to cut the conversation short and try to make himself feel more at ease. He knew Omega probably didn't believe everything he said, but it was a mix of truth and lies that seemed weighty enough in his opinion. It might make others believe him somewhat.
Suddenly, the atmosphere became even more tense.
Knock, knock.
A knock on the door sounded before it opened, revealing a man in a PDF uniform that looked dignified and bore the rank of Colonel. The man stepped into the room with an elegant yet hurried demeanor before stopping to speak with Omega.
From what Eric observed, this man was quite large, standing about 190 centimeters tall, a full head taller than Omega. But despite being taller and having a higher rank, the Colonel showed no disrespect to Omega; in fact, he was very deferential.
"Greetings, Colonel. What business brings you here to find me?" Omega greeted the Colonel. His tone sounded more like an accusatory question than a greeting.
The Colonel merely smiled before replying, "Greetings as well, Commander Omega. I have urgent business to settle with this woman. May I have a moment of privacy?" The Colonel said, glancing at Eric briefly before turning back to Omega.
_Business with me? _Eric thought suspiciously. He didn't even know this Colonel. And it certainly wasn't normal for a Colonel to have business with a stranger like him. Without realizing it, while he was thinking anxiously, he clenched his fist tighter.
"Do not take too long... because I have a matter of life and death to discuss with you as well," Omega replied in a displeased voice.
The Colonel smiled with satisfaction before answering, "Thank you, Commander Omega."
Omega walked past the Colonel out of the room, leaving Eric and the Colonel alone.
The situation in the room became strangely awkward. Although the Colonel didn't seem as scary or threatening as Omega, he had a more relaxed demeanor after Omega left. He walked to the corner of the room to grab a chair before sitting at the foot of Eric's bed.
"Congratulations on surviving and coming back in one piece," the Colonel said, his voice tinged with slight surprise. He looked at Eric before complaining bluntly, not caring if he heard or not. "Damn, you're heavy. Almost killed me."
Eric frowned slightly. He wasn't that heavy. He was only 175 cm tall and well-proportioned.
But how does this Colonel know how much I weigh? Eric wondered. And it seemed the answer was becoming clear.
He recalled when he was kidnapped. He had tried to pry off the arm of the mysterious man who locked his neck from behind but failed, until a cloth soaked in chloroform or something covered his mouth and nose.
It must be him, Eric thought, gripping the blanket tighter until his knuckles turned pale. It was very likely this Colonel was his kidnapper. He felt angry and resentful toward the man, but he chose to keep everything inside.
His gaze toward the Colonel remained calm and still. He had learned that interrupting or acting inappropriately and displeasing officials or people in power was no different from risking a quicker death.
Now, he acted like a normal, shy woman who was nervous and had just survived a harrowing ordeal. Seemingly harmless and without suspicion, even though inside he was furious.
The Colonel stared at the woman on the hospital bed with a slightly satisfied expression at her calm and obedient demeanor. In truth, he rather pitied her for having to go through this.
"Hello, I'm Draco. General Vann's close subordinate. And I have something to discuss with you right now," Colonel Draco introduced himself formally.
Eric remained still, careful with every word he would say next. This guy said he was Vann's subordinate, and Eric was starting to understand everything more clearly. The chance that this Colonel was his kidnapper increased as well.
"Go back to living your normal life... and rest assured, the factory where you work has received a forged letter. You will be recorded as an employee on sick leave. No one will suspect you were missing," Draco said in a casual tone, gesturing slightly with his hand.
Eric couldn't help but smile slightly. He had been worried about this since the first day of his survival. He knew well that being unemployed was terrible in this grim future. Plus, given his current situation, he had no savings left. Hearing this made him feel relieved, so much so that he let out a sigh.
That meant he didn't have to fear losing the salary from the month before, which he was supposed to receive the day before he was kidnapped.
"Take this. Consider it a consolation prize from my boss," Draco said, handing a paper envelope to Eric.
He slowly accepted it, hesitantly opening it to find a stack of banknotes equal in value to his salary. In that second, conflicting emotions swirled within him. The joy of receiving money, the distrust, and the suspicion.
He still hated Vann for lying and betraying him. But that didn't change the fact that he needed money for expenses, even if he accepted it reluctantly.
Being stubborn and holding onto grudges too much would only make his life harder and yield no benefit. Taking the money and using it was the best option.
He bowed his head slightly, trying to say thank you without letting resentment or anything else slip into his voice. He wasn't sure if this would be the end of it, but he thought definitely not.
"Thank you, sir."