Chapter 17 - 3.6 : The Beginning of the Game
Al arrived at the front gate just as the last light of day slipped from the sky. The sun had set too quickly—or maybe he had just delayed coming home for too long. In his rush, he hadn’t noticed that his shirt was wrinkled, his pants torn slightly at the knee, and one of his shoes was soaked with gutter water from who-knows-which alley.
At the same time, a black SUV rolled into the driveway. Through the slowly lowering window, Sarah stared at Al—walking with a tired look and a hazy mind. A small smirk curled on her lips—the victorious smile of a sister who’d just found new ammo against her long-time enemy... her own younger brother.
"Perfect," she whispered, stepping out of the car like a celebrity finishing a shoot for a family drama series.
Meanwhile, Al had hurried to his room. His head swirled with one troubling question:
Why had his killing intent gone out of control earlier?
It had been six years since he’d unleashed it. Six years living as a "normal human."
Maybe—just maybe—he was beginning to forget how to control that dark part of himself.
He sat at the edge of the bed, still wearing his dirty clothes. His gaze was blank, his mind elsewhere. Just as he decided to start suppressing his killing aura again, a knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said, not even looking up—expecting a servant with dinner.
It was a servant, but not with food—
Instead, with unpleasant news:
"Master Edward and Madam Sandra request your presence in the family room. Immediately."