The Offer

The car glided smoothly out of the parking lot, its engine a low hum that barely registered over the pounding of my heart. The interior was sleek and modern, the seats upholstered in black leather that felt cool against my skin. K sat beside me, his presence overwhelming even in the confined space. The younger man in the driver's seat didn't say a word, his eyes fixed on the road as the car navigated the streets with eerie precision.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, filled with unspoken questions and tension so thick it felt like I could choke on it. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the city blur past, but my mind was racing. Who was this man? What did he want from me? And how much did he really know?

Finally, K broke the silence. His voice was calm, almost conversational, but there was an edge to it that made my skin crawl.

"This world," he began, his tone thoughtful, "is truly remarkable, don't you think? So advanced, so interconnected. There's nothing you can't find out about someone if you know where to look. Every piece of data, every statistic, every little detail—it's all out there, waiting to be discovered."

I didn't respond. I wasn't sure if he expected me to. He continued as if he hadn't noticed my silence.

"Take you, for example," he said, turning slightly to face me. "Bai Eu-Meh. Fourteen years old. Average student. No friends to speak of. A bit on the heavier side, if we're being honest. But then, something changed."

My breath hitched, and I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. He knew. He knew everything.

"Your stats," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "they changed. Drastically. Your cognitive abilities, your problem-solving skills, even your emotional resilience—they all shot up overnight. And then there are the new skills. Skills you shouldn't have. Skills that don't belong to a fourteen-year-old girl."

I clenched my fists in my lap, trying to steady my breathing. He was talking about my past life—about the memories and experiences that didn't belong to this world. But how could he know? How could anyone know?

"It's fascinating, really," he continued, his tone almost conversational. "The human mind is such a complex thing. And yet, even the smallest anomaly can be detected. Especially when you're wearing one of these."

He reached out and tapped the watch on my wrist, the gesture casual but deliberate. I flinched, pulling my arm away, but he didn't seem to care. His smirk widened, and he leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You see," he said, "these watches aren't just for show. They're designed to monitor everything—your health, your activity, even your mental state. And when something unusual happens, like a sudden spike in your stats or the appearance of skills you shouldn't have, it gets flagged. Sent to the appropriate departments for review."

My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to be sick. He made it sound so clinical, so detached. Like I was nothing more than a data point, a problem to be solved.

"Now," he said, his voice taking on a darker edge, "most people in those departments would see your case and think one of two things. Either you're a threat that needs to be eliminated, or you're an anomaly that needs to be studied. Dissected. Experimented on. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded, my throat too dry to speak. The implications of his words were clear, and they filled me with a dread I couldn't put into words.

"But you," he said, his smirk returning, "you're a very lucky girl. Because your file ended up in my hands. And I'm not like the others. I don't see you as a threat or an experiment. I see you as… an opportunity."

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice. "An opportunity?"

"Yes," he said, his tone almost cheerful. "An opportunity to do something extraordinary. To change the world. And all you have to do is cooperate."

I stared at him, my mind racing. What did he mean by "cooperate"? What did he want from me? And why did I feel like I was walking into a trap?

"You should be thankful," he said, his voice taking on a condescending tone. "If it weren't for me, you'd already be dead. Or worse. So, tell me, Bai Eu-Meh. Aren't you grateful?"

I hesitated, my mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. He was dangerous—I could feel it in every fiber of my being. But he was also my only chance to survive, to understand what was happening to me. Finally, I nodded.

"Yes," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm thankful."

His smirk widened, and he leaned back in his seat, looking pleased with himself. "Good," he said. "That's a start."

We sat in silence for a while, the car gliding smoothly through the city streets. My mind was a whirlwind of questions, but one thought stood out above the rest: What did he want from me?

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I turned to him, my voice trembling but determined. "What do you want from me?" I asked. "You wouldn't save my life for no reason. What exactly are you after?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled a cold, calculating way that sent a shiver down my spine.

"All in good time," he said. "All in good time."