My Soul card is a Reaper-Chapter 746: The world of Irth (part-12)

Azzy was led through the grand hall of the mansion, his footsteps echoing in the expansive, luxurious space.

When he came last time, he didn't observe it properly. Now, when he did take a proper look, he saw the walls were adorned with fine art, and the floor was polished marble that reflected the soft light from elegant chandeliers overhead.

The house was indeed magnificent, but his attention was caught by something else.

Sitting at a long table, sipping from a fine porcelain cup, was the same middle-aged man he had met a few days ago—the one with the eye patch.

He was flanked by a couple of bodyguards, as usual, but there was something different about the way he carried himself this time. His posture was relaxed, almost like he had been expecting Azzy.

As Azzy approached, the man looked up and greeted him with a casual but pointed smile. "Mr. Rael," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "Come, sit."

Azzy stood still for a moment, analyzing the situation, then made his way toward the table. The man's presence was calm, but there was an underlying weight to it.

Azzy sat down across from him, his eyes not leaving the man's face as he did.

The man, Phillip Nightingale, set his cup down and studied Azzy for a moment. "You know," he began, his tone thoughtful, "when we first met, our interaction could have gone... better." His lips curled into a small, wry smile. "But I suppose that's the nature of things, isn't it? Sometimes, a bad start is just the beginning of something more interesting."

Azzy didn't react to the comment at first, instead leaning back in his chair slightly, his hands resting on the arms. "It's not a matter worth discussing," Azzy replied flatly. The tension from their first encounter still lingered, but Azzy wasn't here to rehash old confrontations. He had more pressing matters at hand.

Phillip nodded, seemingly understanding. "Fair enough," he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "But that's the past. Let's move forward, shall we?"

Phillip took a deep breath before continuing, his tone shifting to something more serious. "You see, Azzy, it's the policy of the Nightingale family to prioritize skill over one's identity. We respect ability and power above all else. But," he paused, letting the words sink in, "I am Leiza's uncle and her guardian. That changes things."

Azzy felt the shift in the atmosphere. His instincts told him that this wasn't a casual conversation.

Azzy met Phillip's gaze with steady eyes, neither showing any hesitation nor arrogance. He'd seen enough power plays to understand the unspoken dynamics at play.

"Leiza's safety is paramount to me," Phillip continued; his voice firm but not unkind. "And it's clear that you have a role in that. But just remember where you are, Azzy. You're stepping into a world that runs on influence, power, and loyalty. There's more to it than what meets the eye."

Azzy listened, his mind processing every word, but he didn't give anything away. "I understand," he said simply. He wasn't here to challenge the Nightingale family or its policies. He had his own mission and his own path. Leiza and her mission just makes it easier for him.

Phillip's gaze lingered on Azzy for a moment longer before he nodded, a sense of approval in his eyes. "Good. Then we have an understanding."

Phillip Nightingale leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he continued speaking, though his tone softened with concern. "Naturally, I'm worried for my niece's safety," he said, his voice tinged with protective care. "Leiza means a great deal to me, and I can't ignore the unusual people she's surrounded herself with."

He paused, considering his next words carefully. "I made some inquiries about you and your friends," he continued as if testing the waters. "But honestly, I found nothing concrete. What I did find, however, raises more questions than answers."

Azzy listened attentively, maintaining a composed expression.

Phillip continued, "For one, I'm sure that neither you nor your friends are truly part of the Scarlet Dragon Dojo as Leiza thinks or that guy named Josh insists even when threatened with a cannon. During your time at school with Leiza, I've seen two of your companions leave their residences on alternate days. They would roam the city, sometimes together, sometimes alone. And they often ask about the serial killings that have been plaguing the city for the past couple of months."

Azzy's brow furrowed as he processed the information. The serial killings? This man is indeed keeping a close eye on their whereabouts. But the fact that his teammates couldn't realize that they were being followed troubled him.

But then again, it doesn't matter anymore. His teammates would return to their homes anyway.

Phillip paused, his eyes scanning Azzy's face carefully. "What's more unsettling," he continued, "is that all of you speak an unfamiliar language—one that I've never heard in my life. Rather than some lost language, it seems like an invented language, almost like a code. Far more effective than any simple cipher, as it would be impossible to decode."

Azzy didn't react immediately, though his mind raced. It seemed like Phillip had been digging deeper than he had expected. But he wasn't wrong. The language Azzy and his team spoke was unique to them, the language of Angels, a way of communicating without being understood by the outside world.

The next part of Phillip's analysis deepened his frown. "You and your companions are far more powerful than ordinary humans. I've seen it. Each of you could dodge a car speeding at 120 km/h and save someone from certain death with ease. You're not ordinary—no, far from it. There's only one organization in this world that has such capability."

Azzy's frown deepened to the point that it was visible that he is extremely displeased. He had a pretty good idea of where this was going. frёeωebɳovel.com

Phillip's voice softened, as if realizing the outcome his words had created. "I apologize, Mr. Rael," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to test you or your friends. I have no intentions of hurting your friends, truly. But I've seen too much to ignore it."

Azzy remained silent, still absorbing the implications of what Phillip was saying. "Go on." He said.

Phillip leaned in slightly, his gaze intent. "There is only one organization capable of training people with such power. It's an organization that takes children from various places and molds them into cold-blooded assassins. I must ask… are you a part of Pavel?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. Azzy blinked, the name Pavel sounding completely unfamiliar to him.

He saw Phillip's eyes narrowing, waiting for his answer.