Chapter 7: Echoes of Loyalty, Whispers of the Past
The underworld rarely remained silent. Whispers traveled faster than bullets, and paranoia spread like wildfire. The supposed return of "Mr. Nobody" had become a tremor shaking the very roots of every faction buried beneath the facade of the peaceful city. The name, long buried in fear and reverence, had surfaced once more.
Each faction interpreted the message in their own way. Some saw it as a challenge. Others, as a warning. But all understood one thing—the balance of power was about to change. And no one wanted to be left behind.
In a dimly lit private lounge on the top floor of the Gemini Tower, Elric Vance sat alone, holding a glass of untouched brandy. The rain outside painted streaks of silver on the large windows, and the city lights flickered like nervous fireflies.
He had watched the performance earlier. He had heard the line.
"The past is nothing but a shackle I choose to ignore."
And just like that, memories had struck him with the force of a storm.
---
Elric was never a saint. When he was younger, he was barely scraping by, running scams, taking odd jobs that skirted the law. Back then, he wasn't Elric Vance, the top-tier loan shark with half the East Side in his debt.
He was just a kid. Broke, scared, and angry.
Then he met Alexander.
He didn't even know the guy's real name at first. Just that he walked around like he owned every room he stepped into. That infamous lazy grin, those unreadable eyes, and a trait so subtle it bent reality itself—voluntary perception control.
Elric had gotten into a fight. A stupid one. Some gang members had humiliated him in public, and Elric had tried to talk back. Bad move. They had started beating him when Alexander strolled in.
Not walked. Strolled. Like he was out for a walk.
And then, without a word, Alexander beat all five of them to the ground.
Not because he cared.
But because, as he later said, "You don't mess with people who don't deserve it. And Elric? You're my friend now. That means something."
Alexander had always been enigmatic. One moment a philosopher, the next a warlord. But he always kept his promises. And when Elric started dreaming of something bigger, it was Alexander who funded his first legitimate business.
"Don't pay me back in cash. Pay me back by surviving this hellhole." he had said.
And Elric did.
---
Now, the man he'd buried in memory had apparently returned as an acting student?
At first, Elric laughed.
Then he saw the performance.
Then he felt the weight of those words.
And now, he wasn't laughing.
He needed to know the truth.
---
In a secluded room behind a luxury ramen shop—one of Elric's fronts—Sebastian Mohram sat, arms folded, ever-straight posture, rain dripping off his coat.
Elric entered without a word. For a moment, they just stared at each other.
Two men who once shared the same king. One driven by business. The other by unyielding faith.
"Sebastian," Elric began cautiously. "Is it really him?"
Sebastian didn't answer right away. His eyes were steeled, but the corners trembled.
"He has returned," he finally said.
"And the acting?"
"A mask. Worn only by those who no longer wish to conquer with swords."
Elric chuckled darkly. "He always did like his metaphors."
Sebastian didn't smile. "He gave the order. The past is to be erased. Mistakes cleansed. That includes us."
Elric's amusement vanished.
"You think he wants to cut ties?"
Sebastian nodded solemnly. "No... I think he wants to test us."
The loan shark leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Then let's pass that test. I want to see him again."
Sebastian's eyes sharpened. "You will. But only if you're worthy."
For a moment, the past returned. Two boys chasing purpose. A king walking among thieves.
And now? The world was watching.
And Mr. Nobody—or whoever wore his face—was ready to change everything.