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Chapter 11 - FESTIVITIES

Inside the spacious confines of Sir Holland's office at Dove Corporation Headquarters, the atmosphere buzzed with subdued tension. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air as Sir Holland, engrossed in his thoughts, meticulously prepared his drink. On the opposite wall, Captain Toshiko stood, his demeanor relaxed yet watchful.

"So yeah," Sir Holland began, his voice carrying a note of urgency, "I have four months to get him back, or else... I'm a goner."

Captain Toshiko regarded him quizzically, his posture casual, "You mean he's gonna kill you?"

Sir Holland chuckled softly, shaking his head, "No dummy, he's gonna fire me. Although I wouldn't be surprised if he killed me instead."

Captain Toshiko's brow furrowed in contemplation, "Well, I still don't think executing him makes sense. Seems more like an illogical obsession than a wise decision."

Exhaling a sigh, Sir Holland's frustration was evident, "I'm not doing this with you again." With his coffee brewed, he moved to his desk and took a seat, his expression a mixture of exasperation and resolve.

"Whether you think he should be executed or not is irrelevant, mate," Sir Holland continued, his tone firm. He looked at Captain Toshiko with a pointed gaze, "Do you think they would try and 'convert' you if you were ever caught by one of them?"

Captain Toshiko's response held a hint of skepticism, "Basing your actions on what Fiend hosts would do? No wonder the kingdom is in the state it's in—"

Sir Holland's retort was sharp, his tone warning, "Hey, you better watch your mouth—"

Before he could finish, a knock at the door interrupted their exchange. "Come in," Sir Holland called out, his voice transforming to one of professional composure.

The door swung open, revealing a Dove officer. "Greetings, sir. The head of the Dove Youth Academy has come to see you," the officer announced.

A figure stepped through the door, and a sense of familiarity filled the room. "Bevan...?" Sir Holland's voice carried a mix of surprise and genuine happiness.

The newcomer, Bevan, responded with an unassuming nod. "Edgar... Toshiko."

Sir Holland's initial warmth was tinged with playful reproach, "W-what a pleasant surprise! I haven't seen you in years, man! I mean, you don't reply to my texts, you never pick up my calls, and you've pretty much been ghosting me like we weren't best friends just a few years ago..." Despite his words, Sir Holland's smile remained, emphasizing his jest.

Taking a step towards Bevan, Sir Holland extended his hand in friendship, his voice holding a genuine curiosity, "How've you been, man?"

A low chuckle escaped Sir Holland's lips, carrying with it a tinge of self-deprecation. "Who am I kidding? You're not here for me. You haven't liked me for years," he confessed, the words revealing a certain candidness.

He strode over to his desk, his cup of coffee in hand, and leaned against its polished edge, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on Bevan. "So? What are you doing here... Bevan?"

Bevan, his demeanor a blend of seriousness and conflicted emotions, began to speak, his voice a mixture of discomfort and resolve. "The announcement you just made... I got a few probs with it..."

Sir Holland's brows furrowed with a hint of incredulity. "Oh, come on... not you too! Why the hell do you of all people have a problem with killing Fiend hosts? Your job is to literally train people to do that."

The tension in the room heightened as Bevan's next words hung heavy in the air. "Because that Fiend...! 'Cuz that Fiend is my kid."

A palpable silence enveloped the room as Sir Holland and Captain Toshiko froze, their expressions a mixture of bewilderment and surprise.

"What did you just say?" Sir Holland's voice trembled with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Bevan's sigh was laden with weariness, his gaze locked on the floor. "A couple of years ago, I met that kid behind my store, all alone... eating from a trash can. It was obvious that he needed help and had nowhere to call home, so I took him in. Udo's his name, right?"

The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving Sir Holland struggling to grasp the implications. "You mean to tell me you've been hiding a member of the Iche clan the whole time?"

Bevan's response was both measured and unapologetic. "I didn't know he was a Fiend host until now... but that's irrelevant. I think I can pretty much say I know him better than any of you, and I've been with him long enough to know that he poses absolutely no threat to this kingdom."

Sir Holland's retort was laced with sarcasm and an edge of anger. "Oh yeah?" he sneered as he approached Bevan, their faces inches apart. "Well, you obviously didn't know your precious little kid well enough to realize that he's a fucking Fiend host, did you?"

Bevan's frustration was palpable as he pushed back against Sir Holland's aggression. "That's beside the fucking point. I want you to leave him in my custody."

A self-assured smirk tugged at the corner of Sir Holland's lips. "No, no, no, no, no... fuck no," he replied with unwavering determination. His gaze bore into Bevan's, the two locked in a battle of wills that seemed destined to escalate further.

Bevan's frustration surged as he pleaded, "For fuck's sake, listen to me—"

Sir Holland's response was sharp and vehement, "No! You listen to me, mate! I've waited far too long to have a taste of killing one of these fuckers who ruined my family! And now that I've finally got my chance, you lot want to take it away? Well, you're gonna have to take my fucking life because as long as I'm alive, every single one of those devils will have a premium ticket to hell!"

The room was engulfed in tense silence, the weight of their opposing convictions hanging heavily in the air. Bevan, undeterred, chuckled softly, a wry edge to his voice.

"It has never been about the people, has it?" Bevan's voice carried a hint of knowing accusation, "It has always been about your fam—"

Before he could finish, Sir Holland's grip tightened, his fingers digging into Bevan's collar with an angry ferocity. "Don't fucking push me, you prick!"

Bevan's smirk remained, unflinching. "You haven't changed one bit, have you?"

Abruptly, a knock resounded on the door, breaking the charged moment. "Come in," Captain Toshiko called, his voice a note of relief.

The Dove Officer from earlier entered once again, his presence a brief respite from the tension that had saturated the room. "Sorry for interrupting, sir, but the captains you summoned are all here. They're in the meeting room."

The grip on Bevan's collar slowly slackened as Sir Holland's attention shifted to the Dove Officer. With a final, stern look at Bevan, he turned and stormed out of the room, the tension in his wake palpable.

Left in the wake of their heated exchange, Bevan and Captain Toshiko exchanged looks that conveyed a mixture of understanding and shared exasperation. As they both released weary sighs, the weight of their choices and convictions settled in the room, leaving an atmosphere tinged with uncertainty.

 

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The evening sun cast long shadows across the beach, its golden hue replaced by a canvas of twilight colors. The playful melodies of pop music pulsed through the air, creating an atmosphere of celebration. The golden sands, touched by the last remnants of the day's sun, were now dotted with vibrant lights of every color, turning the beach into a living mosaic.

Alko swayed to the rhythm, his carefree movements drawing the attention of young women, all eager to match his energy. A few feet away, Atamai, slightly swaying from alcohol, and a boy whose name no one seemed to remember, belted out lyrics, their beer bottles serving as makeshift microphones. Their uninhibited enthusiasm was infectious.

Ren, always the argumentative one even when inebriated, was locked in a passionate discussion at the bar. The empty beer bottles around him hinted at the depth and duration of their debate.

Away from the immediate revelry, by the soft glow of a campfire, laid Udo. His usual mysterious aura was only accentuated by the LED mask he wore. But tonight, he wasn't brooding or plotting; he was immersed in the world of a comic book.

The pages revealed an intense moment—a victory, a new champion being crowned. Terry, the underdog, had finally achieved his dream. Yet, as with every victory, there were the inevitable vultures, and in this case, a sultry lady trying to capitalize on his newfound fame.

Udo's voice, though soft, held a hint of exasperation. "Really, Terry? Can't you see through her?"

But as the narrative progressed, Udo's amusement quickly turned to disbelief. "No way..." He muttered, dread filling him as he reached the end of a particularly titillating page. "This is a wrestling comic... right?"

With trepidation, he flipped to the next page and was greeted with... unexpected artistry. Udo's surprise was evident. "Well, I didn't see that coming," he remarked, a smirk on his lips. "Interesting choice of plot, but I have to give credit for the artwork."

He chuckled softly to himself, folding the corner of the page. "This might just be worth revisiting," he mused with a hint of mischief.

He was so engrossed that the sudden feminine voice behind him caught him completely off guard.

"Having fun?"

His startled reaction made him toss the book away instinctively. When he turned around, his eyes met the slightly unfocused gaze of Kimberley. With her beer bottle in one hand and a tipsy grin on her face, she looked every bit the party reveler.

"Oh, um... yo," Udo managed, slightly flustered.

Kimberley chuckled, "What's wrong? Was there something I wasn't supposed to see in that book?"

He tried to act nonchalant, "Don't worry about it. Just some stupid wrestling stuff..."

She tilted her head, her grin widening. "Wrestling... naked?"

Caught off guard, Udo hesitated before replying, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She leaned in, her voice teasing, "I just know you were drooling under that stunning light-up mask of yours." As she said this, she reached out, running her fingers over the intricacies of the mask. "Ata really did a decent job on that mask, didn't she?"

"You're drunk, aren't you?" Udo asked, diverting the topic.

Kimberley huffed, "What? No!... I'm... I'm not drunk—" Her words were cut off as she misjudged her step, attempting to sit on a nearby lounge chair and missing it completely.

Udo raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, you're definitely not drunk..."

With a combination of dignity and embarrassment, Kimberley managed to position herself on the chair, "I'm not drunk! Just a little drowsy from having a few pints that's all." She paused, focusing on Udo, "Enough about me though; what're you doing here? You're the man of the hour. Enjoy yourself!"

He sighed, "I'm good. Not much to enjoy anyway..."

Kimberley sank deeper into her chair, a somber look replacing her earlier mirth. "I feel you."

They shared a brief moment of silence, the weight of unspoken memories pressing between them. She spoke again, her voice tinged with pain, "I know how it feels to lose someone important to those cunts."

"You mean the Herd?" Udo asked, drawing a connection.

"Yeah. They took my mum away from me. Haven't been able to keep my mind off them since," she replied, her eyes distant.

Udo nodded, offering his sympathy, "Oh... my condolences."

She offered a weak smile, determination evident in her gaze, "It's fine... as long as we make them pay, right?"

He raised his beer bottle from the table, "Aye, cheers to that."

Their bottles clinked, sealing their unspoken vow. The evening continued around them, but at that moment, they shared an understanding deeper than words could convey.

Amid the jovial sounds of the beach party, Kimberley's words sliced through the night air like a sharpened blade.

"I've never felt this alive," she began, her voice filled with a blend of determination and newfound hope. "For the first time, I feel like taking down the Herd is actually within reach. I knew not joining the Dove Corporation was a good idea."

Udo looked at her, curious. "Wait...why?"

Kimberley hesitated, then sighed. "My purpose changed. It became a lot bigger than just killing beasts. The corporation... they were going to hold me back."

"But aren't they after the Herd too?" Udo pressed.

Kimberley chuckled bitterly. "Well, they are... But over time, I realized they didn't want it as badly as I did. Even those who had suffered as much as I did from the Herd seemed indifferent. It felt like a betrayal." She paused, taking a moment to collect herself. "So, I took matters into my own hands. I cut ties with them, built my own squad. And here I am."

Udo studied her for a moment, considering her words. "Are you sure this is the right route to take?"

Her gaze was unwavering. "Mate, I'm literally talking to the son of Eze Iche. I've moved past any doubts. That's why I'm here, Udo." She paused, her gaze softening. "That's why I've decided to trust you, even though you could end me in seconds. I will eliminate every last one of those bastards. I don't care what it takes." She looked at Udo intently. "I know that kid means the world to you, so I believe we're on the same page. Right?"

Udo was silent, absorbing the weight of her words. Their two worlds, it seemed, had come to an inevitable intersection.

Kimberley broke the silence, glancing at the horizon where the first hints of dawn were appearing. "We should head back. We're leaving on a trip tomorrow."

Udo blinked in surprise. "Wait, what do you mean?"

She stood up, stretching her arms and then turned to face him with a solemn expression. "As I said earlier, we have leads on the Herd..." She paused, letting the weight of her next words sink in. "It's in Watford."

The revelation hung in the air between them, a new challenge on the horizon.