"I will register myself as Ishtera."
Zein looked straight into the Elder's eyes, which were shaking before. Now, those eyes were blinking in surprise. He stopped talking, letting his words sink into their mind.
"Y-you mean...you'll take your father's legacy, Young Master?" the Elder asked, with a small trembling in his voice.
Zein swallowed his sigh. He waited until the police officer--Cohen--finished serving the tea before explaining himself. "I'll say this upfront; I don't intend on reviving the clan," he said, sweeping stern gaze to the Elder and the middle-aged man, Senan.
"Then..."
"What I want is to take the name that both my parents left me. I think I owed them that much for birthing me into existence," Zein rubbed his wrist, feeling the pulsing vein beneath. "But the clan, and the organization, I would like you to stop."
