Const Orphanage 16
Just moments ago, there was a boy—was he alive or had he perished?
Suddenly, Elvira felt the light behind him vanish, a wave of intense fear surging from his back. A massive shadow slowly rose behind him, and Elvira turned around slowly—
—a gigantic snow wolf appeared before his eyes!
Its gaze was as sharp as ice, ice-blue vertical pupils reflecting the roaring flames, the fleeing crowds, and the deceased children.
Yet, within its eyes, Elvira saw something he couldn't comprehend—was it pity?
Boom—
A loud crashing noise erupted behind Elvira! The entire Orphanage collapsed thunderously in the fire!
"Whew—"
Elvira suddenly opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and gently patting his chest.
Thankfully, it was just a dream.
The ravaging fire and scattered memories from the dream still lingered in his mind.
But he knew he had been thoroughly shaken, encountering a grand beauty that was equally terrifying, even though the specifics had faded from memory. This regret of forgetting, like a lost kite, left him feeling empty, aimlessly turning to look out the window. The setting sun slowly descended, a rose-colored waterfall stretched across the sky, cascading for miles. The sky flowed with rose-colored clouds, blending with a streak of gold-orange at the horizon, weaving into a wonderfully magnificent tapestry of colors.
Realizing it was getting late, Elvira prepared to head to Const Orphanage.
He got up, went into the bathroom for a quick shower, and changed into a set of slightly more formal clothes. Then, he pulled out twelve flying knives from under the bed, laying them out on the table before meticulously securing each one into hidden clasps in his sleeves.
Feeling that his equipment was still insufficient, he retrieved a Sig Sauer P228 handgun and a magazine from under the table, tucking them at his back waist.
...
On the 88th floor of Luminous Entertainment, the president's office was bathed in cold white light. Altair sat in a leather swivel chair, eyes closed, listening to Saxon's report, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest, unconsciously keeping a rhythm.
His skin was as pale and cold as marble, with distinct brow ridges and a prominent nose that appeared even more refined under the soft glow of the light. At this moment, with his eyes closed for repose, his demeanor was calm and composed, his aura cool and stern.
"So, you're saying the data provided by the government shows no change, but a large number of homeless people in the city have suddenly disappeared?" Altair's voice was as cold as ice, chilling as snow, making the air seem to freeze and solidify.
"Yes, on behalf of the Sterling consortium, I formally inquired and conducted a covert investigation with various social welfare organizations. According to our findings, the missing individuals include patients with severe illnesses, people with intellectual disabilities, and those with serious mental health issues," Saxon added, his tone grave.
"Understood." Altair's fingers gently brushed over the silver half-face mask adorned with two diamonds at the corners of the eyes. His hands were well-defined, fingers slender, his skin pale and cold.
"Organize a response team tonight, prepare for support. There's more terrible to that place than we anticipated." Altair placed the mask on his face, and immediately, a cold gleam shone from his eyes, the silver mask lending him an air of solemnity, stability, and enigmatic depth.
"Right away, boss." Saxon nodded, his expression firm and respectful.
"Any news from the Nieva and Halliwell families up to now?" Altair asked coldly, looking at the Undead Spirit Dagger in his hand.
"No, apart from the appearance of Elvira and the Halliwell family heirloom SCP yesterday, we still have no further information," Saxon shook his head helplessly, responding.
"With the absence of these two major families, our fight against the Human-beasts is clearly at a disadvantage. Just the werewolf family alone has suffered losses of over forty percent of its members in the effort to eradicate the 'Human-beasts.' I suspect the situation with the vampire families is similar."
"Send a message to the Alpha of the Sterling family, asking him to contact the Nieva and Halliwell families on behalf of the Sterling werewolf family to inquire about their situation." Altair stood up, his aura formidable, the powerful force coursing through his veins causing Saxon to involuntarily step back.
"If there's still no response, then it's time for me to pay a visit myself." Altair's tone suddenly sharpened, he paused before adding:
"In the least friendly manner possible."
...
The pitch-black night descends upon Const Moutain, the cross atop the Orphanage piercing the sky, as if devout believers were praying to the heavens, hoping for divine mercy to grace the earth.
Altair's car was parked not far from the road, his Vacheron Constantin men's watch gleaming on his wrist. He looked down at the watch's second hand, listening to its gentle ticking.
It was 7:55 PM.
The heavy black iron gate slowly opened, an old, worn red carpet extended from the steps of the Orphanage to the iron gate, resembling the gaping maw of a beast, exhaling searing breaths.
Outside, seven or eight luxury cars were parked, with people gradually alighting from them.
Some leaned on canes, coughing incessantly; others were pale and weak; a few were even receiving intravenous blood transfusions.
Blood transfusions, a novel health maintenance practice pursued by the elite recently, were believed to extend life by infusing young and fresh blood.
Altair's gaze swiftly swept around; those arriving were influential figures of the city, long absent from the public eye.
Two individuals wearing copper masks and dressed in blue Care Worker uniforms stepped out from the gate. They bowed neatly to the investors, respectfully welcoming them to the investors' dinner at Const Orphanage.
Their masks did not reveal their eyes.