CONAN'S POV
"I'll come see you after two years"
Sobs..
I sighed inwardly as Hyra theatrically rubbed her eyes, feigning tears. Morning drama was her specialty.
"Take your time, there's no rush," I said calmly, masking my true thoughts about Mr. Azakura's risky plan. If she knew my reservations, she'd never agree.
"Wait until I secure a position in the Underground. Then we can both enter together," I whispered, planting a reassuring kiss on her forehead. As I turned away, the others turned their backs on me.
"They can't see that side of you. It's our little secret. And by the way, I really like your hair," Hyra deflected swiftly, her tone shifting effortlessly.
She always was quick on her feet.
Before plans could change further, Ethan and I boarded Mr. Azakura's private airplane.
Seated now, I glanced out the window, catching Hyra's devilish smile. Just as I moved to disembark, a cold blade pressed against my neck.
She had orchestrated this. It was all part of her game, maneuvering pieces on her own chessboard.
"I'm sorry, but if you try to leave, I'll have to kill you," he murmured, his smile hinting at a darker intent.
I gripped the chair, meeting his gaze for what might be the last time. he seemed determined to remove me, sending me back to the Philippines to keep me out of her way. Tch!
"If you don't want to be left behind, then prove yourself," he finally relented, retracting the knife. "When she gets bored with you, she'll find someone else."
"Hah! You think so? Hyra's obsessed with me; she can't just replace me. I'm her everything," I retorted, feeling the sting of blood in my palm from clenching my fist.
"You're both as crazy as each other," Ethan whispered, barely audible but enough for me to catch. Ah, Ethan. If he weren't useful to Hyra, he wouldn't make it out of this alive.
My fist throbbed with pain, and I sat back, handing the knife back to Ethan.
"As soon as we land, I'm heading straight for the Underground," I declared firmly.
3...
2...
1...
"WHAT THE HELL? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? THE UNDERGROUND ISN'T A PLAYGROUND YOU CAN JUST WALTZ INTO!" Ethan exploded, frustration evident in his voice.
"I need to get stronger, don't I? So you're coming with me, whether you like it or not," I said with a defiant grin, tossing the knife back. It missed Ethan's neck, grazing his cheek instead. "Oops, slipped."
"Bastard!"
–
"DIEEEEE!"
The noise was deafening.
The air thick with smoke and the overpowering stench of alcohol assaulted my senses.
Everywhere I turned, someone was flirting or fighting—sometimes both simultaneously.
Was this the Underground that Hyra spoke of? The very place she sought to conquer?
"But why?" I asked aloud, bewildered.
"I'm just a mere follower of hers. I don't pretend to understand how her mind works," Ethan replied with a shrug.
We walked further, reaching the center where a colossal arena awaited, reminiscent of something out of a Gladiator show. Groups clashed violently within, surrounded by cheering spectators placing bets. It was a microcosm of hell itself; no wonder Hyra desired dominion over it.
