"Please come," I say in response to the knock on my door while adjusting my black mask.
"Excuse me, Sir," a man in a black tunic and sarong says politely, opening the door. "It's time for you to finalize your transaction."
"Okay," I reply, standing up.
"Can I come?" Miss Lee asks, glancing between me and the man. I turn my head to him, prompting him to answer.
"Hmm... Pardon me, Madam, but only the owner of the account may go to the transaction room," the man says, bowing slightly in apology.
"Oh, okay..." Miss Lee says with a small pout of disappointment. Still, she rises from her seat. "I am allowed to go to the restroom, right?" she asks rhetorically.
"Of course, Madam," the man replies.
Miss Lee smiles and slips her hand into the crook of my arm. I place my hand over hers and guide her out of the room.
Led by a large man in front and followed by another behind us, we proceed down the corridor. As we near the end, the man leading us halts after speaking into his two-way radio. A door about ten steps ahead opens—the door to Room A.
Miss Lee's grip on my arm tightens slightly. Without looking, I know her excitement or tension has spiked as the occupant of Room A emerges.
The man exiting is of average weight, though his belly suggests a decline from a fitter past. Judging by his gray hair and movements, he appears to be in his fifties or sixties. His uniform, adorned with numerous award pins, indicates a high-ranking position, perhaps in the military or government. A plain white mask, matching his uniform, conceals his face. He radiates authority.
Once he and his two guards descend the stairs and disappear, our guide turns to me and bows apologetically. "Pardon the inconvenience, Sir. According to protocol, transactions proceed in order, and that gentleman was ahead of you."
"That's fine," I reply nonchalantly.
"Thank you for your understanding, Sir," the man says. "Shall we continue?"
At my nod, he resumes leading us down the stairs.
"Where's the restroom?" Miss Lee asks as we reach the ground floor.
"Just before the transaction room, Madam," the man answers.
"That's great. I'll wait for you there so we can return together," Miss Lee says in deliberate English. "What do you think, Honey?" she asks sweetly.
"Sure," I agree.
We walk through an open door into an aisle that, while modest compared to the grand ballroom, retains some elegance. The thick black carpet underfoot and the chandeliers above contrast with the plain gray walls.
"Here is the restroom, Madam," the guide announces, gesturing to a door with a woman's icon on it.
"Thank you," Miss Lee says, releasing my arm and stepping inside. We continue walking without her.
Twenty meters later, we stop in front of a tinted-glass door with no signage. I recognize it from King's blueprint as the entrance to the transaction room.
"You may enter now, Sir," the guide says after coordinating with his colleague. I nod, push the door, and step inside.
The door leads to a short blind corridor ending at a white wall. On either side are two doors with small lamps above them. The lamp above the "Billing Room" door is off, indicating it's unoccupied, while the lamp above the "Handover Room" is on. I enter the Billing Room.
"Good evening, Sir," a man behind a desk greets me. "Room E for item number 12, correct?"
"Yes," I reply, retrieving a black card from my jacket's inner pocket.
The man swipes the card through an EDC machine. "Your fingerprint, please, Sir," he requests, handing me a small scanner.
I press my index finger to it. A beep signals the transaction's approval.
"Congratulations, Sir," the man says, handing me two identical receipts. "Please proceed to the Handover Room across the corridor. Present one receipt to the seller to collect your item."
"Okay," I reply, taking the receipts and exiting.
In the corridor, I see the man from Room A waiting outside the Billing Room. He holds a plain black paper bag, likely containing his first item.
Crossing the corridor, I enter the Handover Room.
"Good evening, Sir," the attendant greets me.
"Evening," I say, handing him a receipt.
He verifies it, then asks for another fingerprint scan. After the beep confirms my identity, he smiles and opens a navy-blue velvet-lined box. Inside lies the necklace I purchased, its diamonds sparkling brilliantly.
"Congratulations, Sir. The necklace is officially yours," he says, placing the box in a medium-sized black paper bag with the Galliluere logo embossed on its front.
I nod in acknowledgment, taking the bag and exiting the room.
As I step into the aisle, my watch emits a single beep. Quickening my pace, I push open the tinted-glass door to find Miss Lee and our guards waiting alongside the Room A team.
I hand the bag to Miss Lee, who beams with delight and wraps her arm around mine. Before we move, the door opens again, and an attendant calls out, "Excuse me, Sir! You left your card!"
Cursing my forgetfulness, I turn to Miss Lee. "Go ahead to the room first."
"It's okay. I'll wait," she insists.
Not arguing, I return to the Billing Room, confirm my identity with another fingerprint scan, and retrieve my card.
On my way back, my watch beeps again. Spotting the man from Room A emerging from the Handover Room, I quicken my pace and slip into the room behind him.
Inside, the seller of the nuclear core freezes mid-step, his hand on the rear door's knob.
"Hey! What... Who are you? How did you get in here?" he stammers, his face pale with fear.
Ignoring his questions, I remove a black pearl from my mask. "This is the price you pay for betraying the organization," I say calmly but loud enough for him to hear.
His face drains of color as I flick the pearl toward him. It transforms midair, sharpening into a spinning drill. Before he can react, it pierces his forehead, drilling deep into his skull. His short cry of pain is silenced as he collapses, lifeless.
The pearl detonates within his brain, leaving no chance for survival.