"Hello!"
"Heeeelllooo~"
The nurse's voice was lighthearted, trying to ease the awkward silence, but it barely stirred the boy on the bed.
"If you don't want to talk, it's fine, but you need to drink something."
"..."
"..."
The boy sat on the edge of the hospital bed, legs dangling. His head was wrapped in thick bandages, leaving only his eyes and nose exposed. His hands and legs were similarly covered, while an IV dripped steadily into his veins. A ventilator rested against his nose, assisting his breath in quiet intervals.
In a faint voice,
"...a...a...a"
The boy tried to talk, but his voice couldn't come out. All he could do was make some sounds, but the nurse heard it.
"Wow, it's great you are talking about something... is it about your father?"
The boy made small head movements indicating a sign of yes. The nurse understood and said,
"Don't worry, he is with your brother. I'll call him."
The boy moved his head, indicating a sign of no. The nurse questioned him,
"What happened to you? How did such a small boy end up with such fatal wounds?"
The boy laid down on the bed. The nurse helped him. He stopped talking and thought of something that made tears come out of his eyes.
Thirty-five years later, in the present.
The car that Garffin and Victor rode came to a stop outside a huge building. They all stepped out of the car. A member of Montana's security came and opened both of their doors, and they both stepped out.
"I think you should go alone, Victor. I'll be waiting for you."
As he finished saying, he disappeared from there.
"And he is gone. Haah... Your answers better be good, Krylov's."
Frederich was standing beside him, and he said,
"Sir, are you planning a raid on them or getting any information?"
"Nothing. I'm here just to slaughter the bastard who dared to kill my son."
"Then perhaps I guess you know who did that to the young master?"
"Nah, who cares... I'm gonna kill everyone inside until someone tells me who was the one that killed my son."
"That's... not the solution to it. The upper guilds won't like it, and neither wo--"
"I don't care who or what they think of me! My son is dead, and the killer is roaming free!"
"Okay, Sir, as you wish! What shall I do?"
"Guard the entrance. Call all the members to cover the whole area. No one should enter the building at any cost."
"OKAY, SIR!"
He moves inside the gates. All the security guards come to stop him with their magic-repulsive guns.
"You should all know who I am, and I hope I won't need to take any innocent life. But if you dare stand in my way, in VICTOR MONTANA'S way, then be ready for what's to come."
As he said that, Victor's body started to get more and more buffed with huge muscles. All of the guards that were gathered near him fainted as Victor glared at them.
He walked ahead while he mumbled,
"Motherfuckers wanted to be against me with those puny guns. I'm not even a magic user..."
As Victor moved closer to the building, he saw that it was a massive tower with fifty floors and a logo of K.L.T. at the top. He walked past the gates of the building; there were guards inside that were going to surround him.
They received a voice from the nearest speaker. It said,
"Stand down! Guide this man to my office."
One of the assistants, a female, scared of seeing Victor and how he looked, walked meekly towards him, being scared, and said,
"I... I can guide... you to his office."
He made a rough voice, "Hmm..."
"Uh... o... Okay then, walk with me."
Victor walks with her. They get in the elevator and are taken to the thirty-fifth floor. He walks with her in the passage with no one following them. They cross various rooms, and they reach the end room, where the lady opens the door.
An old man was sitting on the left side. The office was decorated with various luxurious items like a huge globe, a flower pot, a giant blackboard, and several chairs and couches placed across the room.
The man who was there ordered the female assistant,
"Marina, please ensure no one enters the office. I wish to have some private time alone with Mr. Victor."
She bowed and replied, "Understood, sir," and exited the room.
"Hmm... Now that we are alone, what do you want, Victor?"
"If possible, the truth, Mr. Dimitri Krylov."
Looking confused, "What truth?"
"Don't act dumb! I know Emileo was in one of your clubs."
"Well, I cannot be certain about that since Leslions purchased all my clubs."
"When?"
"I don't know, fifty-sixty days before."
"Is he here?"
"Yeah, probably gambling on the fiftieth floor."
He moved to go out of the room. When he was opening the door, he asked a question,
"Why is your office on the thirty-fifth floor? Why not at the top?"
The old man moved away from his place, and Victor saw that Krylov was sitting in a wheelchair that was operated by a mana crystal he had worn as a ring on his middle finger.
"Well, what can I say? I'm quite scared of heights."
Victor expressed in a sarcastic voice, "Hah..." and left the room.
"You can come out now, Garffin..."
Garffin was there, lying on the table, watching the fall ceiling of the office. Then Krylov spoke,
"Why were you hiding from your brother, huh?"
"Nothing... he's just an idiot. But there's something off about this. And besides, what could a group of crippled, armless, and paralyzed souls possibly do?"
"Tch," Krylov bit his lips.
Twenty-six years ago...
Young Garffin—just nineteen, his blood-hungry eyes blazing—clashed with the seasoned, battle-hardened Dimitri in a furious midair fight. The sky became their battleground, where Garffin moved with deadly precision, weaving through the air like a phantom.
With a swift, ruthless strike, he tore through Dimitri's legs, severing them cleanly, the force of his blow sending them to the ground where young Leslion and Targaryn's family's head stood.