A dark and peculiar figure stood beside the reception desk. "The preparations are complete, all is in order, and I am poised to receive your commands," he whispered in a clandestine voice through the microphone.
"Very well. Keep the line open and notify me of any unusual occurrences," responded another voice, audible through the in-ear monitor.
It was a refreshing Sunday afternoon in the city of Hilldale. The local restaurants consisted of a lively atmosphere as they bustled with families relishing their moments. On the other hand, only the most affluent and refined families were to be found in Mrs. Kazuya's private museum. It was a day to commemorate, a day to reminisce the memories of her life. It was her 50th birthday, after all.
It was 1:00 p.m.
The guests had started arriving, all in exquisite attire. Amidst the sea of elegance, where everyone appeared resplendently fancy, there was a singular figure which managed to stand out conspicuously from the refined crowd.
A man in a black tuxedo entered the hall. His face bore an uncertain expression. Feeling unsure and lost, he fidgeted with his fingers. Slowly and stealthily, he walked towards the manager.
"Hello man," He spoke nervously,"I've got some, uh... business to discuss with you. How about we negotiate a deal and settle this matter smoothly, okay?"
The manager fixed him with a glare, "Who granted you access? Are you among the guests?"
Anxiously, the man glanced at him, almost flustered by the question. "O-Of course! I'm uh..." He fumbled for a slip of paper in his pocket and then read out, "Mr. Davian. Yes, I'm on the guest list."
The manager eyed him suspiciously. "Wait a moment, sir. Let me summon Kazuya-Sama-"
"Stop!" The man exclaimed. "Hear me out first, idiot. I need you to give me this stone tablet. . ." He pointed towards a big piece of rock, engraved with ancient letters. It was secured in a glass case, just like many other unique items displayed.
"And why would I do that, sir?" The manager replied firmly, "You must be aware that these relics belong to Mrs. Kazuya. You have no right to claim them."
The man heaved a grave sigh, "Of course I know that, man!" He exclaimed. "If I had any rights, I wouldn't be asking you to give it to me right now! But I need it. . . And you will give it to me." He snarled, an ominous expression taking over his face.
The manager got up from his seat, exasperated by the relentless nonsense. "Guards--"
However, his words were abruptly silenced as soon as he caught sight of a gun pointed at his head.
"Caught you now." The man remarked in delight, a sense of satisfaction in his voice. "You better follow my orders."
YOU ARE READING
The Purple Perceiver
General FictionRazor, a star agent known for his icy demeanor and unparalleled track record, finds himself entangled in a mission unlike any he's faced before. Alongside his longtime ally, Blaze, Razor has been tasked with an operation by his new head-a figure who...
