Three years later…
A mansion stood tall beneath the moonlight—its windows glowing gold, laughter and classical music flowing out with elegance and pride.Luxury cars lined the driveway. Guards stood at rigid attention. Inside, champagne poured, and expensive perfume filled the air.
They had gathered for one reason:To celebrate the birth of the son of Willioms Saint—one of the most talked-about businessmen in the country. His rise had been meteoric, almost unnatural. In just three years, he'd gone from a bankrupt drunk to a man of wealth, whispers, and secrets.
Willioms: "Attention! Attention!"He raised a glass, smiling so wide it hurt to look at him."Greetings to all my humble guests. Today, we celebrate the birth of my sweet little angel. I appreciate your presence—please, make yourselves at home!"
Applause. Cheers. The orchestra swelled.But across the room, one of the masked guards made a small signal. Just a flick of his gloved hand.
Willioms caught it immediately and excused himself from the crowd, heading toward the guard's post near the corridor.
Willioms: "What is it? This better be important!"
Guard: "My apologies, sir. But we have reason to believe there's an intruder in the mansion. A dangerous one."
Willioms: "Dangerous—? Are you mad, son? Do you even know who I am!?"
Guard: "…Yes, sir," the guard muttered, voice cold. "Sadly… all too well."
Willioms: "What—"
A blur.The guard's strike landed sharp on Willioms' neck—his body hit the ground before he even realized it.
When Willioms came to, his vision swam. The world tilted and pulsed with pain.
Then—CRACK!A brutal punch slammed into his jaw. Blood sprayed, teeth scattered like marbles on the floor.
Willioms: "GHHHHAAAAAA!!!"
Guard: "Oh… sorry. Was that too rough?"
Another blow. This one to the gut—so deep it forced vomit from his throat, splattering across his silk suit. He nearly blacked out, but the guard gripped his hair and yanked his head up.
Guard: "Hey! Don't you dare pass out on me."
Only then did Willioms realize he couldn't move.He looked down—and horror hit him like ice.
His arms and legs were nailed to the wall.
Willioms: "AAAAAARGH!!! WH-WHAT DO YOU WANT!? MONEY!? I CAN GIVE YOU ANYTHING! PLEASE!!"
Guard: "Pathetic."The voice cut through the air, calm and venomous."Tell me, three years ago—you were a washed-up drunk. A man who used his child's food money for gambling."
Willioms: "C-c-child?! Wh-what child!? I—I just had my first baby recently!"
Guard: "Tch." A hiss of disgust. "Don't play dumb, you bastard. You had a son long before this. You raped a helpless girl—and she died giving birth to him."
Willioms: "W-what are you talking about—?!"
Guard: "Your son's name… was Toka."
That name froze the room.Willioms' eyes widened. His lips trembled. His heart pounded so loud it echoed in his ears.
Willioms: "How… how do you—"
The guard reached up—slowly, deliberately—and removed his mask.
The world seemed to stop.
The face beneath it was young… but hollow.Long, dark hair framed eyes that were empty—eyes that stared through him, through the walls, through the world.Eyes he had seen before. The eyes of a broken woman… the wife of his brother.
Willioms: "Y–… Yuri?"
Yuri: "Haven't forgotten me, huh?"
Willioms: "Yuri, h-how could you do this—to your own uncle—"
Yuri: "SHUT THE HELL UP!"
His voice was thunder—rage sharpened by grief.
"I know damn well Henry Saint was never my father. But that's not why I'm here. I want to know how you—a useless, filthy, deadbeat piece of trash—got so rich right after my mother was butchered!"
Willioms: "Y-Yuri, please! I swear—I had nothing to do with it! It was Henry! And some other guy—I don't know him, I only saw him once!"
Yuri: "What guy?"
Willioms: "He was there… the day you were born. The day Henry killed his former wife. I—I don't know what happened! But he came back the next day with both you and Lilly. That's all I know, I swear!"
Yuri's silence stretched. His gaze darkened.
Yuri: "Well… good job, then."He stepped closer, his tone like ice. "But you see, you and your brother are the same kind of filth."
Willioms: "W-what?!"
Yuri: "Toka was my friend. He was sick. You played the grieving father, begged for charity money, claimed it was for his treatment… but you never cared. You used it all for yourself. And when he died—you didn't even give him a grave."
Willioms broke down, tears mixing with blood and sweat.
Willioms: "Please… I made mistakes. Please, Yuri… have mercy—"
A flash of steel.A whisper of air.
Then—SPLAT!
Yuri dragged the blade across his abdomen, opening him from hip to hip.
Yuri: "Mercy's for the living."
He turned and walked away, leaving Willioms Saint to bleed out—just as he'd left everyone who ever depended on him.