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Chapter 612  27 West Gallon Street (3)

Unexpectedly, a door swung open ahead of him, and a team of elite guards emerged into the corridor.

Their uniforms were immaculate and commanding, their countenances rigidly resolute.

They started a thorough examination of the hallway, their eyes alert and acute.

Erik\'s heart raced with the thrill of a challenge, rather than fear, as he readied himself to fight these individuals. He wanted to avoid detection and fighting his way out of the building to make it look like he wasn\'t there. But he was not afraid, as these people were not his match; he was prepared for whatever came his way.

He flattened himself against the wall, his body blending with the surroundings thanks to the Chameleon Veil. His breath was shallow and controlled, his movements utterly still.

One of the guards appeared to detect something unusual. He narrowed his eyes and surveyed the corridor, tilting his head slightly, as if trying to comprehend what he saw. The lights were toying with his sight, generating a faint flicker in the spot that Erik had passed through before.

Intrigued, the exclusive guard moved towards Erik\'s spot, taking slow and calculated steps. But Erik\'s every cell was synchronized with his surroundings, his instincts acute.

The young man could feel the sweat forming on his brow, a droplet threatening to trickle down his face. His muscles were taut, and his senses heightened. Time seemed to slow as the guard came closer, the seconds stretching into eternity.

The guard\'s gaze was fixated on the spot where Erik was concealed, yet he appeared hesitant, unable to fully comprehend what was bothering his perception. Erik could almost hear the cogs turning in the man\'s mind, the doubt creeping in.

The elite guard suddenly halted just inches away from Erik and meticulously examined every inch of the wall, floor, and ceiling. Despite staring straight ahead, he did not seem to notice Erik. By being still, Erik achieved complete invisibility.

Erik\'s body was a coiled spring, ready to react at a moment\'s notice. His mind was calm and focused, every scenario playing out in his head. He knew he was in control, that his training and instincts would guide him.

The seconds ticked by, each one an eternity as the guard continued to scrutinize the area. Erik\'s breath was held, his body frozen, a statue in the shadows.

Finally, with a shake of his head, the elite guard turned away, dismissing the odd sensation as a trick of the light. He rejoined his companions, and they continued down the corridor, their attention elsewhere.

Erik let out a slow exhale, feeling the tension leave his body. The moment had passed; the danger averted. Even though it was over, he could still feel the adrenaline coursing through him, and that he had come so close to being found was still fresh in his memory.

Erik continued to explore the tenth floor, the dark secrets of the place weighing heavily on him. He moved with caution, his every movement precise, his senses tuned to the slightest sound or shift in the air.

He checked most of the rooms and, after a short time, discovered a slightly ajar door with a soft murmur of conversation coming from inside. He cautiously nudged the door open a bit more, making sure not to make noise, and looked through the crack.

A woman in her early forties was seated at a desk inside the room he entered. With her sharp features and calculating gaze, she appeared to be more suited for a high-stakes negotiation than a research project.

Her raven-black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, giving her an air of severe authority. The sterile fabric of her white lab coat was like the chilling environment around her.

It was Catrina.

<Found you, bitch…>

Erik\'s heart pounded in his chest as recognition set in. This was the person he had been seeking. He mentally rejoiced at the discovery, the sense of satisfaction mingling with the tension of the moment.

His eyes remained fixed on her, trying to read her body language while he strained to listen to the conversation on the phone. Her voice was cold and emotionless, and her words had a bitter edge that made Erik shiver.

"Those mother fuckers found Doran," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "It was hard to find again people who could do the job he did, and for sure, we slowed down."

Erik tried to comprehend what she meant. What was the significance of what she said? Who were the people she referred to? The Blackguards? But weren\'t they just a tool? The answers seemed just out of reach. The puzzle was still incomplete.

The voice on the other end of the line responded with an indistinct whisper that Erik couldn\'t discern. He exerted himself to catch the sound, but the words evaded him, a far-off resonance in the space\'s gloom.

Catrina\'s reply was simple, though, her voice rising in anger and frustration. "Leaving the black-tards made things harder, that is certainly true, but at least I am free now and don\'t have to do the inhuman things I had to do for them before."

Erik\'s breathing hitched, the words suspended in the air like a gloomy haze. He was rendered speechless, his mind spinning with the implications.

If Catrina considered her current actions to be less inhuman, what horrors had she been involved in before?

How could any circumstance be grimmer than the abductions and inhumane tests he had already seen?

Besides, what did she mean when she said leaving the black-tards?

Her reference was unmistakable. However, her words suggested that the search party for her and Doran were the blackguards themselves, which didn\'t fit with what he knew about them.

<Fuck… This mess is bigger than I expected…>

He knew he had found what he was looking for, that his mission was accomplished. But the victory was hollow, tainted by the knowledge of what lay beneath the surface.

As Catrina continued to speak, her voice a distant drone in his ears, Erik backed away from the door, his mind still struggling to process what he had heard.

With a heavy heart, he turned and made his way back through the building, the images and sounds of what he had witnessed haunting him. The mission was over.