Deep Friendship

Since the night Fanmuir abruptly left, Helena had been unable to shake a nagging sense of unease. Regret lingered in her heart, replaying moments of their short time together: shopping at the grand mall, dancing arm-in-arm at the park, his gallant act of shielding her from danger, their affectionate closeness at the banquet, and finally, his lonely, forlorn figure as he walked away.

Those brief days with Fanmuir had left Helena with an unexpected treasure trove of sweet memories. Yet, now that she was spending time with her childhood prince charming, she found herself unable to feel the joy she once anticipated. In fact, there was a faint sense of irritation she couldn't quite place.

Glancing at the empty seat beside her, Helena felt a pang of sadness wash over her. Where are you now? she thought. Was I too cruel that night? Did I completely ignore your feelings?

But Helena wasn't the only one consumed by thoughts of Fanmuir. His disappearance was deeply felt by the five brothers of Dorm 506, who, despite their tough exteriors, were genuinely worried about him.

Ronnie Spencer, for the first time in his life, had lost weight from worry, his already lean frame becoming even thinner. Luca, the smallest of the group, had begun to look like an underfed refugee after just a few days. The others weren't much better off.

Fanmuir had missed several consecutive shifts at the New York Story Bar, including the night of the banquet. Caroline, once known for her radiant smile, hadn't smiled even once during this time, while Delphine's growing frustration had driven away more than a few customers. The rest of the staff steered clear of both women, wary of their temperamental moods.

Meanwhile, Orlando Browny had dug into Fanmuir's background. As far as his investigation revealed, Fanmuir was just a college freshman from the Italian mountains, working as a waiter at the New York Story Bar. The events of the banquet, however, had been kept under wraps to protect the reputations of several prominent families. As a result, Orlando remained completely oblivious to Fanmuir's true identity as a senior elder of the Alexandros family.

As Orlando Browny reviewed the information his subordinates had compiled, he found himself questioning his own judgment. Was he overthinking things, or did Helena simply have terrible taste in men? Beside him, Alger Gruber—the sinister and ruthless man—mocked him relentlessly, almost persuading Orlando to let the matter with Fanmuir slide.

But like most heirs of prestigious families, Orlando wasn't one to miss an opportunity to bully the seemingly powerless. Since Fanmuir appeared to have no notable background, Orlando decided to treat him as a plaything. A malicious grin spread across his face, chillingly cold and full of cruelty.

Not long ago, one of his subordinates had reported that Fanmuir hadn't shown up in days, leaving Orlando simmering with frustration.

It wasn't until Friday evening that Fanmuir finally returned to the dorm, dressed in a neatly casual outfit. As he approached the door to Dorm 506, he overheard Ronnie Spencer's anxious voice:

"Luca, you should go home and check on your dad's condition first. If we hear anything about Fanmuir, we'll let you know immediately!"

"I'll wait until tomorrow," Luca Caster replied after a moment's hesitation. "If he still hasn't come back by then, we'll file a police report!"

Inside the dorm, the brothers continued their worried discussion about Fanmuir's whereabouts.

Hearing their genuine concern for him, a wave of warmth washed over Fanmuir. For someone who had spent centuries in isolation, the realization that there were people who truly cared about him struck him deeply, momentarily stirring his emotions.

"I'm back, brothers!" Fanmuir bellowed as he pushed open the door.

The five brothers turned toward the door, their initial surprise quickly replaced by joy. But their relief soon turned into playful vengeance as they lunged at Fanmuir like a pack of wild animals. Even Luca, who had been preoccupied with his father's condition, wasn't about to miss out!

"Where the hell have you been these past few days?"

"I had to cover for you when the professor kept calling your name! So, how are you going to pay me back for that?"

"Fanmuir, since you're finally back, I'll head home now," Luca Caster said, visibly relieved. The worry he had pushed aside for days began to resurface as he remembered the call from his family earlier that day.

The joy that had lit up the room moments ago dimmed, and all five brothers wore troubled expressions. Noticing Fanmuir's confusion, Ronnie Spencer explained: "Luca got a call this morning. His father was beaten up—it's about the vineyard his family leases."

"It's got to be that bastard Frank Fédèle, the mayor's no-good son!" Luca spat, his voice trembling with anger. His eyes burned with rage as he continued, "Back when no one wanted to lease that barren mountain, my dad spent eight years transforming it into the well-known vineyard it is today. Only then did things start to turn around for us. And now that scumbag wants to snatch the lease from us by force! My dad's condition is still unclear—Mom wouldn't tell me anything over the phone, but I could hear her holding back tears!" His voice faltered as he spoke, and soon he was sobbing, his small frame shaking as tears streamed down his face.

How could an ordinary family possibly stand up to the mayor's son? The sheer helplessness of the situation was overwhelming, and Luca made no effort to hide his quiet cries in front of his brothers.

Fanmuir was deeply moved by the sight. Despite his anguish, Luca had put his own fears aside to worry about Fanmuir's safety.

What a bond—true brotherhood that transcended wealth, skill, or status. It was one of the rarest and most valuable things in the world.

Though a king among men, Fanmuir was still human—he could feel anger and be touched by such genuine emotion. Watching Luca cry, he felt a powerful surge of protectiveness and loyalty. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to storm into Fédèle's house and make them pay. But Fanmuir's rationality prevailed; he knew that some battles were best fought with strategy and leverage, not brute force.

Placing a comforting hand on Luca's trembling shoulder, Fanmuir said gently, "Don't worry—your dad will be fine! Do you remember the man who visited me recently? He's high-ranking in the EU Security Bureau. I'll ask him for help."

Luca immediately stopped crying, his eyes lighting up with hope. He vividly recalled the two imposing men who had visited Fanmuir in a military vehicle not long ago. They looked every bit the officials. Grabbing Fanmuir's hand, Luca pleaded, "Fourth Brother, please call him right now—ask him to help us!"

The other brothers nodded in agreement, their faces filled with urgency. Internally, Fanmuir chuckled—there really wasn't any need for such alarm. As long as Luca's father was still breathing, no problem was beyond him. And as for Adam Alexander, he'd leap at the chance to help.

Understanding the gravity of the situation for his brothers, Fanmuir wasted no time. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number Adam Alexander had left him.

In one of the French DGSE conference rooms, the French branch of the EU Special Operations Department was in the middle of a meeting. At the head of the table sat Adam Alexander, flanked by his top-tier operatives, including Sacré.

"Boss! A call for you!" A poised young woman, standing nervously at the doorway, held a cordless phone with trembling hands.

"How many times do I have to say it? No calls during my meetings—none! Are you deaf?" Adam snapped, his frustration clear.

"I told him that you don't take calls during meetings," she stammered, "but he insisted you'd take his call and wouldn't blame me for interrupting. He said if I didn't pass it on, the consequences would be far worse." Summoning all her courage, she remained rooted in place, though visibly hesitant.

"Oh, really? Who has the nerve to talk like that? Hand me the phone—I'll deal with it!" Adam said sharply, motioning her forward.

"So commanding, aren't we?" The voice on the other end was calm, yet its familiarity hit Adam like a lightning strike. His face went pale, and a shudder ran through him. Oh no! How could I forget he's still here in Paris?

The team watched, stunned, as their usually unshakable leader visibly quailed. What kind of person could invoke such dread in their fearless boss, someone who thrived under pressure and faced danger head-on? Meanwhile, the young woman who'd taken the risk to deliver the call sighed with relief. Judging by Adam's reaction, her decision had saved her from a potential disaster.

Back at the dormitory, Fanmuir was surrounded by his brothers. Keeping his tone casual, he quickly outlined the situation to Adam Alexander and asked him to drive to the school as soon as possible. They would head out that night to Luca Caster's hometown, Lourdes, nestled at the foot of the Pyrenees.

When Adam finally hung up the call, he looked as if he'd been through a war. Sweat dripped from his brow, but his relief was evident. Thankfully, the master hadn't held it against him. If he had... Adam couldn't even imagine the consequences. Someone had dared to target the master's brother. That family clearly had no idea what they'd just brought upon themselves.

Although he hadn't yet reached the Caster family's home, Adam was already mentally drafting an obituary for the Fédèle family.

An order from Fanmuir was non-negotiable—it had to be prioritized above all else. Without a moment's delay, Adam canceled the meeting and summoned Sacré to join him.

The operatives in the room exchanged puzzled glances. Who could have been on the other end of that call to make their boss act so decisively?

But the few who had witnessed the "Battle of Sergy Industrial Park" exchanged knowing looks, fear flashing in their eyes. If the call had come from that person, then Adam's reaction was more than justified. The memory of that otherworldly power still haunted them.

Meanwhile, news that Fanmuir's "hometown friend" was en route and they'd leave that night to help Luca brought a wave of cheers from the brothers. At last, they could set their worries aside. Yet Luca remained quiet, still weighed down by uncertainty, sitting apart from the joyful group.

Fanmuir gave Luca Caster's shoulder a reassuring pat. "Relax. Even if it's the governor of Bourgogne-Franche-Comté who's in the wrong, my old friend won't let it slide."

Luca thought Fanmuir was only saying this to comfort him. After all, how could a poor student from the remote Alpine mountains possibly be connected to someone of high rank? Nevertheless, Luca felt a bit of relief and gave Fanmuir a grateful look.

At the persistent urging of his friends, Fanmuir made a quick call to Caroline, using the opportunity to request time off. Hearing her gentle teasing and concern from the other end of the line, he couldn't help but feel a warm glow in his heart.

It wasn't long before Fanmuir and Luca were riding in Adam Alexander's custom military SUV. The sight of the specially outfitted vehicle left Luca almost speechless—he could hardly believe his eyes. While he didn't have much life experience, he knew enough about the significance of such a car to finally feel a weight lift off his chest. He now looked at Fanmuir with growing curiosity and newfound admiration.