Chapter 101: Departure [End of Vol.1]

They would depart for Houston, and he would start working as an MIO field agent.

That is a chance. He thought

Makun knew it was a chance, a chance at finding out more about the mystic world, a chance at finding out things related to the eyed hand, to the chains and more importantly to who was behind it all.

Makun picked up a book that lay on the small table next to his bed.

As soon as he woke up yesterday, he had asked for a book, a small booklet. He had decided to note his findings from now on into this book, he had to make sure he did not lose information no matter what.

When Amanda had brought the book, he had entered a trance, writing and drawing whatever came to his mind on the first page.

I have seen you, was the first thing he wrote, that was the first thing he had heard after waking up in the VEB HQ.

And he instinctually knew it came from the eyed hand. The tone was similar to when it had spoken in the bounded field. It was similar to what he had heard just before his eardrums burst, just before losing consciousness.

This added pressure on him, he could feel sweat forming up under his bandages, not from heat, from the fact that an unknown creature of unfathomable strength had marked him as a target.

It knew his face, and it had a grudge against him.

At this point Makun knew he had to get stronger, real quick.

If not, then his life was probably forfeited. Right now he stood no chance against Adepts like Zorak and Jorg. Against that being, he could do nothing.

This gave him more motivation for Houston and the MIO. Out there, he was going to develop his comprehension of chaos and combat and advance on the mystic path, just like the presence had said.

That was his only path to freedom.

Just below the words written, Makun had drawn something he would never forget, something he kept deep inside his mind.

That was the appearance of the eyed hand.

He had drawn a transparent large hand made of pure energy with a bloody red eye at the middle of it. The blood slowly dripped out of it and fell in droplets to the ground.

This is the only clue I have.

Makun had thought earlier that Orel had indirectly helped him uncover some truth about his situation, this was exactly it.

This eye, if the people behind it worked similarly to groups he was aware of, groups like Freemasons, Knights Templar, or even the Illuminati mentioned by all those conspiracists, then they might worship this thing as a god.

They might have symbols of it hung somewhere, praising it for more power. He knew the chances of this being true were minimal, but he chose to hold that thought.

The fact that Bol and Cheryl had tracked him down, or that the hand had emerged from the doll she had strapped at her waist, simply meant that the hand had followers on earth, and a group always had a symbol, a logo of some sort.

It would make sense if they worshipped the hand.

He had no idea Why they had attacked him or about the fact that the fact that they had been in a different situation, that they had a goal and some wish to fulfill, some kids to save.

But even if he knew, he would not care. Makun had learned to be selfish, they had come after him, he could not care less about the fact that they died.

The only regret he had was not having the opportunity to get more information out of them.

But he knew that information would come to him, be it in Houston, LA or anywhere else.

He closed the book, and lay down. He had to rest, that is what he needed before departure.

…

Wednesday, 21 April 2032, 9 AM.

At the entrance of the building, Jorg stood his gait calm, his arms behind his back. His body was full of bandages, bandages used to cover the bruises he had sustained during his fight against Bol and the ancient creature.

He would have preferred rest, but being here was an obligation.

He had to attend MIO departure.

Stood next to him was Yime, she wore her usual combat uniform, long dark coat and a veil covering her face leaving only her dark eyes visible.

She had no bruise, no bandage, she had sustained no injury.

Behind them was Orel who was perfectly fine, and a weak looking Amelia who still needed some healing pills to fully get in form.

Contrary to when they had arrived, the building’s main hall was empty, no one stood there. The eighteen main agents of Naija City were very busy.

After the events of Sunday night, Jorg had decided to tighten security around Naija City, they would properly regulate every mystic transaction of Naija City.

They had to make sure no such event occurred again, Naija City had lost a shelter, had lost fifty-three inhabitants because the VEB had not properly monitored Zorak and his circle, because they had not known when Bol and Cheryl had reached Naija City.

Now he had been summoned to one of the main branches of the Suppression Bureau, together with the agents of the MIO present and Yime’s chief who had participated in the clash that took the life of fifty-three people and almost exposed mysticism.

He knew the punishment was going to be heavy, reason why he chose to tie all loose ends before the day of the counsel.

Now, the MIO was departing and they were waiting for Makun.

“Does he think he is a president or something?” Orel chimed from the back.

They were meant to be here at 8:50 AM, it was already 9 AM and Makun still had not shown up, they might just leave without him.

“It is not as if we have nothing to do.” Orel spoke, tired of waiting. “I have that guy to catch before he makes it more difficult on us,” he said, looking at Yime, asking her to do something about Makun.

Jorg looked at Orel and shook his head. The boy had a lot on his mind, he could at least leave him some breathing time, it would hurt no one.

“Let’s just leave him,” Orel said, turning to go into the black sedan that waited behind them.

…

At that moment, Makun walked through the main hall to them.

He had been given some black combat clothes by Yime. He wore tight combat pants, and a black shirt tucked into the pants, with a long black trench coat that fell off his back. He had a military feel to him.

Makun walked through, his long dark brown hair had been cut short into a fade, a decision he took after having his hair removed by Cheryl.

His light brown skin shone through the door of the VEB entrance and his sharp eyes that could pierce through anything at the moment looked at Yime’s group.

Those eyes were full of determination to find answers, and full of rage against whoever was behind all of this.

He slowly walked up to Jorg and nodded at him. “Thank you!” he said with a low bow.

Jorg had been of great help to him, he could be said to be the only one who had helped him without gaining anything in return.

Yime had helped him yes, but she had plans for him, the presence too had plans for him. Everyone else took advantage of him.

But Jorg, Makun had caused him trouble again and again but the guy had always helped.

Makun aspired to be like him, dominant, strong, calm, collected and logical. That should be the path forward.

Jorg nodded at Makun’s bow. “You did well.”

Surviving his initiation, surviving against a third grade Adept who had lost his strength and not cowering against Bol and Cheryl were feats no Initiate or Apprentice could easily accomplish.

But Makun had done it, he deserved praise.

Makun stood up, looked at Yime and said, “I am ready.”

“Good, let’s go. We have a lot to do,” Yime answered, before turning and slowly walking towards the black sedan.

She was followed by Orel and Amelia.

Makun stood there, he looked around at Naija City one last time.

He was leaving behind twenty-three years of bad luck, twenty-three years of near death experiences, years of mental torture.

He had no regret, he would not be homesick, he had no home here.

All he wanted right now was to head to Houston and uncover the secrets behind his life.

He turned, and headed towards the car.

Towards his new beginning.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep