Volume 1. Chapter 27. The School

"Here are the drone shots."

Haruko's subordinate tossed several photographs onto the table, neatly arranged like a deck of cards. The images showed an old complex—a massive structure with ancient walls and shuttered windows, resembling what was once a prestigious educational institution.

"A huge, old facility. He might be there. But we can't be sure. No other leads. The address we traced was... strange. Just an old location with a message: 'If you're looking, come find me.'"

Haruko silently picked up the photographs. Her gaze was cold and razor-sharp, cutting through the details with precision. She studied each image with practiced ease, assessing every nuance.

Was this school a trap? Or a key? These ancient buildings… and that cryptic message.

"Quite the enormous complex..." she murmured, tracing the edge of one photo with her finger. "Looks like an abandoned school. But this isn't just a coincidence."

She set the pictures aside and lifted her gaze. The room fell silent. That was her habit—switching gears in an instant, never giving her enemies or even her own people time to react.

"Are the preparations complete?" Her voice was cold, firm.

"Yes, ma'am," came the reply.

"Good."

Haruko leaned back in her chair, deep in thought.

"He clearly has no intention of coming to us. If he knows we're looking for him… then we'll go to that school ourselves."

Her decision was made—without the slightest hesitation, as always. She rose to her feet and headed for the door, her steps firm and unwavering. Everyone around her knew that once she made a choice, it would be carried out. No unnecessary words. No delays. That was her way.

The school… or rather, what was left of it.

Haruko had always believed that places like these were a reflection of what was hidden within the soul. And it seemed Kaito knew that just as well as she did.

She turned, her gaze as sharp as the moment a blade meets the whetstone.

"Prepare yourselves. We're going in. And if it doesn't work out… don't expect to come back."

The final preparations were completed, and they set off.

Ten luxurious cars, loaded with weapons and ready for any scenario, sped through the night. Haruko sat in the back of the last vehicle, resting her head against the hand of Yamato Reijiro—her father. Beside them sat Dr. Tadashi.

"Don't worry, Father," her voice was steady, unwavering. "We'll heal you."

She could feel the tension building, but her resolve remained unshaken.

Reijiro, though still weak, had recovered significantly—it was noticeable. The journey passed quickly, interrupted only by brief stops to ask for directions. Strangely enough, every person they encountered knew Kaito's name. And with a mix of fear and reverence, they all called him "sir."

That eerie loyalty, veiled in fear, was becoming more and more apparent.

At last, they reached the outskirts of the city. The silhouettes of towering gates and a massive complex began to emerge from the mist. As they pulled closer, the cars came to a halt.

Up ahead, several other vehicles were already parked. Haruko felt her patience beginning to crack.

"What the...?"

Her voice flared with anger as she stepped out of the car, scanning the scene before her. She could hardly believe her eyes.

Standing in front of them, stepping out of a sleek vehicle, was none other than Madam Linfei.

Haruko strode toward her, her expression cold as ice. Her steps were steady, but there was an unmistakable threat in her movements.

Was fate really crossing their paths again?

Had the daughter of a Chinese tycoon come here for the same reason as them?

"What are you doing here?"

Her words cut through the silence like a frozen blade, as if she already knew the answer.

"What am I doing here?"

Linfei's voice was laced with sweet mockery. A smirk played on her crimson lips as she stepped forward, gracefully tossing a dark lock of hair over her shoulder.

"Hee-hee, I should be asking you the same thing, darling."

Haruko narrowed her eyes, forcing down her anger, but her voice rang with steel.

"Answer me. How did you find this place?"

Linfei scoffed, taking another slow step forward, as if savoring the moment.

"You're not the only one with resources, little girl. Or have you forgotten who I am?"

Her gaze turned sharp, and her smooth, velvety voice took on an icy edge.

Haruko clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, but she refused to let herself snap.

Tension thickened in the air—two predators locked eyes, both knowing that a single misstep could lead to disaster.

Just as the argument between Haruko and Linfei was about to ignite, the sharp screech of tires cut through the night, forcing them both into silence.

Several cars pulled up, headlights slicing through the darkness for a brief moment before the doors clicked open.

From the lead vehicle, a tall girl stepped out with slow, deliberate confidence, basking in the attention. Her wavy blonde hair framed a sharp face, and her pale blue eyes flicked over Linfei, then Haruko.

Then, her lips curled into a lazy smirk.

"Well, well… look who we have here."

Her voice was husky, like she'd just finished a cigarette.

"…Yelena."

Haruko's brow twitched ever so slightly, but her tone remained level.

Yelena Gromova—daughter of Sergey Gromov, another investor struck down by that mysterious illness.

So the rumors about Kaito had spread further than Haruko had expected.

She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Why are we just standing here?"

Her voice was sharp as a blade.

"Because we're being made to wait," Linfei replied calmly. She looked relaxed, but a flicker of irritation danced behind her eyes.

"The gates won't open until ten in the morning."

"What?!"

Haruko clenched her fists.

"We came all this way, and now we're just supposed to stand around like idiots?! My father's condition could worsen at any moment!"

Linfei rolled her eyes.

"Trust me, I'm just as eager to get inside. But you know how it is—someone else's temple, someone else's rules, Haruko."

Haruko was ready to snap back, but before she could, the low hum of approaching engines caught her attention.

More cars rolled up one after another, their polished exteriors gleaming under the dim lights. Doors swung open in perfect sync, and figures began to emerge.

Ludovic Dupont. Richard Winters. Friedrich Weiss.

All with their sons and daughters in tow.

It looked like the hunt for Kaito had turned into a full-blown family reunion.

The Night Before the Gates

Tension hung thick in the air as luxury cars lined up before the massive gates, looking more like contenders in an exclusive race than stranded visitors. Cigarette embers flared in the darkness, their glow reflecting off polished exteriors. No one wanted to stand in silence.

The first to break it was Ludovic Dupont—a silver-haired Frenchman with a heavy gaze, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit. His daughter, Catherine, stood beside him, arms crossed, watching the gathering with lazy disinterest.

"Gentlemen," he said, his voice rough, like it had been steeped in fine French wine and cigars. "Would someone care to explain why we're standing around like a flock of sheep in front of these damn gates?"

"Because the master of this… place decided so," Friedrich Weiss replied calmly. His ice-blue eyes remained unreadable as he spoke. Beside him, his son Jürgen shot a quick glance at the gates, as if trying to see beyond them.

Dupont clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Ridiculous. We are not the kind of people who wait for answers—we buy them."

Richard Winters, a tall and lean Brit, adjusted the cuffs of his expensive coat.

"It's all part of the show," he remarked with a restrained smirk. "If Kaito didn't want to be found, we wouldn't be here."

"Enough philosophy," Haruko snapped, her patience wearing thin. "My father is getting worse by the minute. I'm not standing around all night."

The Waiting Game

"So, you're just going to break into his home?" Linfei's voice carried a hint of mockery. "And then what? Threaten the only man who can save your father?"

Lady Yamato clenched her fists but said nothing.

Yelena Gromova let out a short chuckle, shaking her head.

"In that case," she drawled lazily, "how about we kill some time? Anyone care for a drink?"

She pulled a silver flask from her pocket, twisted the cap off, and took a generous swig.

"Russians…" Dupont sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Frenchmen," Gromova smirked, "always too serious."

"And the Chinese always keep their trump cards close," Friedrich added, his gaze lingering on Linfei.

"Germans are always predictable," she replied with a knowing smile.

"As for the British…" Haruko started.

"…prefer not to engage in conversations built on stereotypes," Richard finished, shrugging.

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air—then a quiet chuckle broke through the tension. Some of the unease dissipated, but the underlying sense of dread remained.

They were all here for one man.

Kaito.

And he undoubtedly already knew they had arrived.