Inside room 309, a staggering array of holograms floated chaotically, illuminating the space with flickering images from various websites.
All of these holograms emanated from a sleek band strapped to Ren's wrist. "I take back what I said, Leon," he murmured softly.
After hours of fruitless searching online, he finally surrendered to frustration. He squatted down, rolling onto his back with a heavy sigh. "No progress today, once again."
Ren's gaze drifted to the pristine white ceiling, its blankness offering a momentary escape from the weight of his worries.
Turning his head to the adjacent wall, he pondered, "On the other side lies Elara's bedroom." The thought sent warmth to his ears, prompting him to cover his face with his hands. "What's wrong with me?" he shouted in exasperation.
A buzzing sound abruptly pulled his attention away; his translucent phone vibrated furiously within his pocket.
A message had arrived in his 'I-mail' from Victor. Ren's eyes widened at the sight of the sender's name. He opened the message, his breath quickening at the possibilities of what it might contain.
As he read the text, his expression morphed from anxious uncertainty to unwanted surprise—his eyes widened, brows shooting up in a mix of worry and confusion.
Without hesitation, Ren slipped on his shoes and jacket, rushing out of his room. As he descended in the elevator, his heels tapped vigorously against the floor.
When the elevator doors opened, he dashed toward the hovering taxi.
"Where would you like to go, sir?" the AI voice chimed, inquiring about his destination. "Grand Central Park," he shouted, his impatience palpable.
***
Nestled within the sprawling metropolis of Feril was a refuge untouched by technology—a park sprawling across tens of kilometers.
The Grand Central Park...
The ground was carpeted with fallen deciduous maple leaves, and each of the four entrances led into a winding labyrinth of pathways.
Soft clay bricks lined the walkways, their warm hues mirroring the maple's colors, providing comfort with every step. Long benches were spaced at uniform intervals, inviting visitors to sit and bask in the breathtaking scenery.
Deep within the park lay a stunning lake, its water crystal clear, surrounded by colorful pebbles that enhanced its natural beauty.
On a bench a little distance from the lake, a man sat, quietly feeding the pigeons breadcrumbs, tearing small pieces from a larger loaf and observing their silent feast. Beside him rested a large cardboard box, securely sealed with industrial tape.
The tranquility shattered as footsteps approached, startling the birds into flight. "Ah, you scared them," the man said with annoyance, turning to see who was coming closer.
"You should have warned me before you arrived," the boy with curly black hair panted, sweat trickling down his face as he bent over, hands on his knees.
"Aw, I wanted to surprise you," Victor replied, pulling a comical face to tease Ren. "You certainly did," Ren said, taking a seat beside him.
"So, how's college life?" Victor asked, munching on the remaining pieces of bread. "It's alright," Ren replied, striving to sound casual, not wanting to reveal anything about the girl.
"And the search?"
"Still no leads," Ren sighed, his gaze drifting to the shimmering lake. "What about you? You're looking sharp," he added, nodding at Victor's attire.
"It's called a tuxedo—perfect for high-class events," Victor replied, crumpling the empty bag and tossing it toward the bin, though he missed.
"You, a high-class gentleman? I can hardly believe it," Ren chuckled, getting up to retrieve the errant bag. "I don't need your belief. Anyway, I came here to give you this."
Victor gestured to the large cardboard box beside him. "What's inside?" Ren asked, inspecting the exterior for any clues. "Books," Victor replied, casting a sidelong glance at Ren with a mischievous smirk. "Books you won't find anywhere on the internet."
Ren's eyes sparkled with a mix of confusion and excitement. "But why give them to me?" he inquired directly, turning to face Victor.
"They'll help you with both college and your search," Victor said, winking. "Anything you want to ask?"
Ren paused for a moment, contemplating before inquiring about the 'Black Tags' rooms at the university.
"Oh, those rooms? I have no idea," Victor replied instantly. "That's okay," Ren muttered.
"Anyway," Victor continued, a wide grin stretching across his face, "have you found a girlfriend yet?"
The question made Ren stumble, his gaze shifting away from Victor as he struggled to maintain his cool. "No," he stammered, his voice quivering. Noticing Ren's discomfort, Victor chose not to press further. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old golden locket watch.
"Well, I have to go now," he said, glancing at the time. "See you later, and good luck with the girl," he teased, winking at Ren before turning to leave.
"What do you mean! Hey!" Ren called out, but Victor didn't look back; he simply waved over his shoulder as he walked away.
Letting out a deep sigh, Ren watched him go before turning to the large box Victor had left behind. "How on earth am I supposed to get this back to my room?" he exclaimed in frustration.
***
Somehow, Ren managed to carry the large cardboard box filled with rare books into his room. "Let's see what's treasure are hidden inside," he murmured as he began to open it.
Peering into the box, he discovered books shrouded in dust, their condition far from pristine—torn corners, worn covers, and sticky pages. Yet their value was beyond imagination.
One by one, Ren picked up the books, glancing at their barely legible titles: "Failed Inventions," "Hidden Experiments," "Forgotten History." Each title hinted at chaos waiting to be unleashed.
"I need to hide all of this," he whispered, scanning the room for suitable hiding spots but finding none. Ultimately, he resorted to tucking them beneath the futon under his bed.
Once he was satisfied with their concealment, he collapsed onto his bed, his knees grazing the floor as his head sank into the mattress. He let out a deep yawn.
As he began to drift into a deep slumber, a voice jolted him awake—it was the grumble of his stomach. "I need food," he grunted, his hunger reducing his speech to that of a caveman.
Just then, the doorbell rang, cutting through his thoughts. "Who could be here at this hour?" he wondered. "Ren!" a familiar voice called out. Startled, he sprang to his feet and rushed to the door.
Upon opening it, his gaze fell upon a stunning figure standing before him. Her hair was neatly tied into a bun, her hands donned in cooking gloves, and she held a steaming pot.
"Um, I tried to make some Japanese-style ramen, but I ended up making a lot," she said, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow.
Ren's expression was a whirlwind of confusion, relief, happiness, and anxiety, all blending together. Finally, his lips broke into a gentle smile.
"You really saved me," he said, as Elara looked at him, puzzled. They settled together at the dining table to eat. "Delicious!" Ren exclaimed, tears rolling down his cheeks. Elara smiled, watching him savor the meal with such joy.
***
Meanwhile, in Feril, a grand party unfolded within a luxurious hotel, a tall building that towered above the others, illuminated by glistening lights that sparkled like a golden orb.
Cars were parked at various levels, some on the ground and others higher up, with multiple entrances leading to different floors. The atmosphere buzzed with luxury, as important figures gathered in a beautifully adorned hall draped in red and gold.
On the mezzanine, offering a perfect view of the festivities below, a group of men clustered around a poker table. Guards clad in black stood beside each player, except for one, who wore a fancy tuxedo and possessed radiant crimson eyes.
The game commenced, cards dealt to each participant. Victor lifted one edge of his card, revealing a 2 and a 5 of diamonds. Across from him sat an old man, bald with a scar running across his head, beside whom a towering stack of chips formed a small mountain. He called his hand.
Victor raised his bet, while the others folded, leaving only himself and the old man in the game. They exchanged steely gazes as the dealer revealed the first three cards: a 6 and a 3 of diamonds, along with an Ace of spades.
The old man smiled. "Raised," he declared, placing hundreds of thousands in chips on the table. Victor glanced at his cards once more, then turned his attention back to the old man.
"It seems the game has reached its conclusion," he said. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Truce."
Victor pushed all his chips forward, a staggering 2.5 million, as Mr. Truce offered a slight smile before matching his bet, bringing the total pot to over 7 million.
The remaining cards were drawn: another 6, this time of hearts, and a 4 of diamonds. Mr. Truce revealed his hand—a pair of Aces, forming a full house.
Victor, wearing a light smile, stood up and slid his cards into the center of the table: a 2 and a 5 of diamonds—a royal flush. The room erupted in applause at his remarkable play, while Mr. Truce simply stood up and left, his poker face betraying no emotion.
But beneath that stoic exterior lay a flicker of fear, fear of the crimson eyes that had just outplayed him.