The History of an Evil CEO

Chapter Ⅵ Mystery is better left mysterious Part 1

But the strangest thing is that despite all this, three days after President Ford came to see the factory, greeting Luwing as if nothing had happened, and that got me thinking: does this system protect people like him, or is Ludwig just too smart for someone not to want to catch him? Just because of his past, and while he kept making his propaganda toys and his clandestine experiments, as if none of that mattered. I was honestly surprised and all I could do was greet everyone as if nothing had happened. Just the next day when I tried to talk to him about this topic he also asked me but it seemed like a "special mission"

He told us to pick up a young man named Wilson, the son of an old acquaintance of his. The way he phrased it made it seem simple, almost routine. He even let us borrow his car, which struck us as odd considering how possessive he is about everything. Something about it all seemed too calculated, but what choice did we have?

We drove to a small, nondescript house tucked away in a quiet neighborhood in Hollywood. It had a worn-out charm, like it had seen better days but wasn't completely abandoned by hope. Wilson was there, waiting for us—a boy who had barely entered puberty, if I had to guess. He didn't say much at first, just fiddled nervously with a puppet in his hand that he called Bobby, avoiding eye contact like it was the plague.

It wasn't long before we realized that this wasn't just "He wasn't a shy kid. Wilson was very sharp. The way he answered questions, the way he seemed to analyze every word we said... it was like talking to someone who had read every book in the library but had never had the chance to talk about them. Yet, for all his brilliance, there was a... wall around him. Like he'd spent most of his life holding back, afraid to show the world what he could really do.

As we drove him back to the factory, I couldn't help but wonder why Ludwig wanted this kid brought to him. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to no good. Xavier and I exchanged a look as if we were both thinking the same thing. Ludwig never does anything without a reason, and I'm sure this kid is about to be a part of something much bigger than he thinks. My job now is to figure out what that is... and maybe, just perhaps, stop it before it is too late."

Then it was something else entirely. Ludwig finally met Wilson, and it was like watching a falcon survey its prey. Wilson, for all his quiet brilliance, didn't flinch under Ludwig's gaze, which is more than I can say for most people. But what completely threw me off was Ludwig's announcement.

-Hey Elliot, Xavier-, he said, his tone conveying a mix of pride and expectation, "your work on the has inspired a new direction in me. -We're going to create the train, an underground system for this factory that will revolutionize the way we operate-.Xavier and I exchanged a look of utter disbelief. Subway? Train? Neither of us had ever proposed such an idea, but Ludwig spoke as if it had been our master plan all along. Was this his way of testing us? A manipulation tactic? Or does he really think we're capable of such a feat? Either way, we agreed to do it, not knowing whether to feel honored or trapped.

What really unnerved me was Ludwig's insistence that we "visit" where the train would be located - the dark, black room with wooden panels and a smell of wet wood - so that we also visit Wilson in the coming weeks. I talked about it as if it were routine, but I could sense an undercurrent of something darker. Why would Ludwig care about a quiet, intellectual 22-year-old? And why involve us in whatever he's planning?

For now, I'll keep my questions to myself. But something tells me that Ludwig's plans for Wilson - and for us - are much deeper than we understand. I'll have to tread carefully and figure out what role he wants us to play in all this. A train might be the least of our worries.