White-Washed Walls

. . .

On the other side of the world...

Andrei entered a small pub along the empty streets of Russia. An antique bell rang as he pushed through the door, and the creaks on the floors attracted the attention of other pub-goers. Some men who were downing their beers with a toast spared a second to gaze into this stranger. Even the saloon pianist halted his performance.

Ignoring the stares, Andrei sat on one stool in front of the bartender who was polishing a brandy glass with a small cloth. "Care for a pint, my friend?" the bartender offered.

Andrei surveyed the wine bottles on display, "I'll have a 1864 Chateau Blanc."

"Any special request?"

"I want to use the bathroom."

The bartender slipped a small key towards his direction, "I see. That's the way to the bathroom," he said, pointing a poorly lit hallway on the left side of the room.

Andrei stood up from his wooden stool. He made his way towards the narrow hallway with flickering gas lamps barely lighting his steps, but enough to let him see the decorations on the wall. Greeting him on his path were countless severed heads of wild animals—from wild boars, to bears, and deer antlers. He surveyed the area, looking for a specific animal. Upon setting his eyes on a wolf's head, he took the small key out of his pockets.

If there was someone watching him, that person would've had all the hairs on his body up from the fright. As ruthless as possible, Andrei pulled the head's jaw apart, inserting his entire arm's length down its throat. His hand found its way past all the smelly rotten insides before feeling a small key hole in his fingertips.

Upon turning the key, all the lights in that hallway went off. The walls shuddered with a loud but muffled sound, like a heavy stone being pulled mechanically by clanging chains and gears underneath the century old floor.

All this lengthy process pulled the ground apart; revealing a hidden flight of stairs leading underground.

After taking ten steps down, the floor above his head trembled once again before closing themselves shut. He stood still for a few seconds before the lights went on—revealing a high-end room with cutthroat technology.

Just a minute ago, he felt like trudging the streets from the 17th century. Now, the setting took him above the atmosphere. With the walls made of white steel, this secret room resembled a space station—complete shut, with its very own oxygen and power supply.

A few more steps and he reached an automated steel door. He stepped inside a spacious white room. Aside from a white table and two white couches in the center, there was nothing else—just the white walls and floors to be gazed upon.

"Mr. Argenti... you've arrived," said a man. He was sitting on the couch, and just like his surroundings, he wore white garments all over.

Andrei walked closer to sit on the couch, and his company leaned forward as if he was about to share exciting news. "Guess what? I think the world is revolving around us. I just killed three birds with one stone!"

"Tell me about it, Mr. Villaruel."

Just like this, the identity of the man who wore a maroon mask on the night of the Annual Doomsday Gala was about to be uncovered.

"I'm sure you've heard the news," Mr. Villaruel said.

Andrei gave a small nod. "Mr. Dela Cuesta's scandal blew up the internet like a storm. Even if I'm someone who doesn't watch news, it's bound to reach me somehow."

Mr. Villaruel grinned. "Ahhh. What a charming success that was."

Andrei watched him pouring champagne in a glass before asking, "Why did you take Mr. Dela Cuesta down? He's vile enough to do everything just to reach his goal. He would be a big help."

"Hmmm," Mr. Villaruel chimed, "I can't control Mr. Dela Cuesta. He's too ambitious and greedy. With him gone, the only person left who can take his position is Mr. Flores. That lackey of his is a simpleton. I can control him in the palm of my hands. Now if it's not my great fortune, who would have thought that Mr. Dela Cuesta would be lecherous enough to make his move on Farrah Young. Birds of the same feathers sure do flock together. Those who piss me off pisses me off without miss."

"Why do you hate Farrah Young so much?"

Mr. Villaruel gritted his teeth from Andrei's question, "That's none of your business."

"Fine," he simply shrugged, "Then who's the third one?"

"The third one, you say? I think this benefits us both. We needed someone to take the blame anyway."

Andrei furrowed his brows.

"I rewarded Mr. Gancho for his spectacular job. As expected, Mr. Dela Cuesta confronted him about the report. And guess what? He said Zhi Lin, yes that female CEO, put him up to this," Mr. Villaruel's laughter echoed around the white room, "Now, Mr. Dela Cuesta will surely seek for revenge. If he takes that Zhi Lin out in any way he's capable of, then that's one less competition for us."

"Mr. Dela Cuesta won't be able to take her down. They're not in the same caliber," Andrei said. More as if he was assuring himself. He looked up to see Mr. Villaruel smirking.

"Not if he gets Miura Takumi involved," he took a sip of his liquor before dabbing the corner of his lips with a white handkerchief, "As far as I'm concerned... I heard he's holding her captive now."

Andrei went silent.

"What's with that expression?" Mr. Villaruel asked, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Don't tell me you like that Zhi Lin?"

He fixed himself on the couch, struggling to keep a straight face from Mr. Villaruel's invasive question. He cleared his throat before denying, "That's not possible."

Mr. Villaruel huffed from his answer, "Don't get fooled by her beauty, Mr. Argenti. She's not as innocent as she looks."

Andrei furrowed his brows from this before meeting his company's stares. He watched Mr. Villaruel reaching out for a tablet beside him—tapping on the screen before handing it over. "Watch this."

He reached for the tablet while keeping his stares daggered at Mr. Villaruel before pinning his eyes on the tablet at hand. There was a video flashed on the screen but the indicator showed that the part he was about to watch ran towards the end of the video. He clicked the play button to see Zeirenne and Jin talking casually while looking out of her skyscraper office window.

"I can't believe you gave yourself an English name," he heard her saying, "Hans Young? That's witty."

He saw Jin smirking before turning his head to face Zeirenne. From this, Andrei made a subconscious 'tsk' without even knowing why.

"Coming from the young miss of the 'Lin' family."

He listened carefully to hear her explanation. Trying to pick up real clues. He didn't care about the fact that she was not using her real name. Somehow, maybe out of curiosity, like how he convinced himself, he wanted to know her real name.

"It was from my Lola's maiden name," Zeirenne cackled as if this was the hundredth time she'd told Jin this, "I didn't directly translate my name to other languages like you did."

"Translated name?" Andrei whispered to himself while rubbing his chin. He was expecting to hear more, but unfortunately, what came next was not much of help. Especially for him.

"That reminds me," Jin marveled, "Is Zelenne really pronounced as ze-ˈlēn or jē-ˈlēn?"

As he watched Jin grabbing Zeirenne by the waist, his finger was fast enough to pause the video before handing the tablet back to its owner.

"What can you infer from this, Mr. Argenti?" His companion marveled.

"They're not using their real names."

Mr. Villaruel clicked his fingers sideways, "And why would they want to do that? Just because of privacy? No one would go through all that hassle of keeping their real names an absolute secret unless..."

Andrei raised his brows to this remark. Well, he was not using his real name too. And for this, he knew exactly what Mr. Villaruel was talking about.

"They're keeping their real identity a secret. If I can guess, they're not ordinary people who climbed their ways up the business pyramid."

Andrei almost scoffed to this, "Congratulations on realizing that," he thought to himself, "you should worry about my real identity first. Low born."

But he nodded his head as if he found this knowledge groundbreaking, "Interesting."

"Right?!" Mr. Villaruel jolted up from his seat as if he had just won the million-dollar question from a famous game show. Andrei had to smirk internally, "Naive man," he thought to himself while looking at Mr. Villaruel, who was laughing in celebration of his million-dollar guess.

After Mr. Villaruel's solo party, he fixed himself on his seat—crossing his legs before taking a sip of his sparkling drink, saying, "Now..."

He looked straight into Andrei's blue eyes, "I want you to find their real names. Prove yourself to me... that you're not a weak-hearted man who fell under that Zhi Lin's trap. Till then, I won't consider you as someone I can trust. That's not such a hard thing to do, right?"

Andrei shrugged his shoulders. "Sure."

. . .