613 A conclusion
The inside of Erik's head was like a hurricane as he walked back through the lit floors of the building.
The haunting images of the captives, their vacant eyes, and the chilling surgical procedures lingered in his mind. He could feel their silent pleas for mercy, their longing for freedom. Yet, he knew he couldn't grant it.
The temptation to free the kidnapped was powerful, a nagging voice in the back of his mind urging him to take action.
But he wrestled with it, grappling with the harsh reality of his situation. If he were in their place, no one would come to save him.
The blackguards would realize he was the one who freed them while searching for Catrina. He was aware of it. The world was a cruel and unforgiving place, and he had to play by its rules.
He pondered the Blackguards' enigmatic nature while navigating the corridors undetected.
He had always seen them as justice paladins, warriors in the fight against evil. But their actions had shown him a different side, one that was far more sinister and brutal, and Catrina's words confirmed this.
What was the reason they killed everyone when he found Doran last time? Wasn't their goal to save people? The thought weighed on him, and he couldn't shake it. Did Catrina and Doran conduct these experiments at the behest of the Blackguards? Could they be the hidden puppeteers?
His mind reeled as he reached the third floor. The room where he had entered through the window beckoned him, the darkness within a reflection of the shadows that had gathered within this building.
The ease with which he climbed back out of the building was because of his practice, and his movements were so fluid and graceful that he made it look effortless.
As he emerged into the open air, the weight of what he had discovered pressed down on him. The mission was over, the goal achieved, but the victory was tinged with a bitterness that left a sour taste in his mouth.
He stood for a moment, looking back at the building, the innocuous exterior hiding the horrors within.
Erik turned away, the cold realization settling in that he was part of something much larger and more complex than he had ever imagined.
The concept of right and wrong had become murky, and it became difficult to distinguish between hero and villain. Many questions remained unanswered.
With a heavy heart, he moved on, leaving the building and its dark secrets behind.
As soon as Erik had left the ominous building behind, he pulled out his phone and dialed Ms. Lyria Bannon's number. Her response was immediate, her voice sharp and expectant. "Any news?" she inquired.
Erik felt a chill as he replied, "I found Catrina. She's at 27 West Gallon Street." He sent her the address and a photo of the nondescript building. Then, with a hint of warning in his voice, he added, "There are hostages inside again."
"Don't worry about that," she said. "You did a good and fast job again. Our men searched for her for months but were unable to find her. I'm very curious to know how you did so." Lyria's voice was silky and unfazed as she spoke these words.
"Trade secret," Erik replied.
"Fair enough," the woman said.
But inside, Erik's heart clenched, remembering the fate of the last group of captives.
"Ms. Bannon, sorry for changing the topic, but may I ask what happened to the previous hostages?" He asked her point-blank.
"They've been successfully rescued," Lyria lied, her voice filled with false reassurance. "They are now in a facility meant to help them recuperate…"
Erik knew better, the bitter truth festering inside him. He kept his voice steady, hiding his growing suspicion as he instructed her to send the money to his bank account after a brief talk.
As he ended the call and continued walking, his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and suspicions. The pieces of the puzzle were fitting together, and the picture they revealed was dark and troubling.
He believed the mercenary guild was in cahoots with the Blackguards, or at least Lyria. And what about the Band of Giants? Were they also involved? Was this the reason they sent Rebecca?
Then, like a bolt from the blue, he recalled something that had nagged at him in the past: the footage of Uncle Benjamin dining with Doran. Catrina's claim, if valid, and the recording predating the search for Doran, would implicate Uncle Benjamin's complicity with the Blackguards.
Erik's blood ran cold at the realization. The Blackguards had footholds everywhere, but he hadn't realized the depth of their reach. They had contacts within the mercenary guild in Etrium and high-ranking individuals in Frant.
His lunch with Uncle Benjamin came to mind, the hidden agenda now clear. He was mistaken to think the Frant Military searched his apartment. The ones responsible were the blackguards.
The realization hit him hard, like a physical blow, shattering his belief in Uncle Benjamin's love for him.
Everything became intensely personal. This was no longer just a mission or a job. The search for truth penetrated his very essence.
Erik knew he had to understand what was happening, to unravel the web of lies and deceit that surrounded him. The problem was that he couldn't do this alone. He needed resources, people, money, and power.
Doubt and suspicion loomed around him as he walked the streets, convinced that he had committed to a path with no return. The road ahead was fraught with peril. The enemy was hidden and elusive.
As Erik thought about the potential results of his investigation, his heart raced with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Would he be able to uncover the truth and bring those responsible to justice? The possibility of him being silenced or eliminated by those who wanted to maintain their grip on power and control could not be ruled out.
Despite the danger and uncertainty, Erik knew he could not turn back. He had already come too far, seen too much. He would continue investigating on this matter, and maybe find out what happened to his father, and who were the people targeting him were.
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