Margaret jumped at the sound and momentarily forgot to consider how unfriendly the greeting was.
She quickly turned around to see a strikingly handsome man standing there, dressed in a peculiar white robe. He had long white hair that fell to his knees and violet eyes reminiscent of Elizabeth Taylor. Although he merely looked at her, it gave her an unsettling feeling of being looked down upon.
Margaret regained her composure and pondered for a moment. She couldn't think of anyone besides Thompson, whom she had threatened, who would have both the motive and the ability to create such an intimidating presence.
"Did Thompson send you?"
She asked, her voice quivering. The thought that mysterious powers actually existed was alarming. Thompson had truly hired someone to kill her!
However, upon hearing her question, the man looked at her with a half-smile before denying it. "No, I am merely someone who wishes to seek the truth from you."
Margaret remained on guard. "What truth?"
The man did not respond immediately. Instead, he glanced around and slowly said, "This is not a suitable place for our conversation. Perhaps we should move to another location."
As he spoke, the surroundings began to spin dramatically. In an instant, Margaret found herself sitting on a sofa downstairs, the cigarette butt she had previously smoked still quietly displayed in the ashtray on the coffee table.
She cautiously refrained herself from saying anything further. Facing someone with such power, she realized that no amount of cleverness could pierce through their facade.
The man sat regally on the sofa opposite her, his long legs crossed elegantly, his gloved hands resting casually on his knees, exuding an air of opulence.
At that moment, he spoke leisurely.
"I want the information you used to threaten Alexander Thompson."
Alexander Thompson was the man's full name and also the name of the Minister of the Interior.
Margaret was momentarily taken aback, leading to a flurry of unconnected speculations. She tentatively asked, "What do you want it for?"
The man glanced at her, his expression flat and voice calm, but the implication of his words was anything but ordinary.
He replied sincerely, "I hope you understand, Ms. Margaret, that your life is not in my hands."
Instead of answering her directly, he offered this cryptic statement.
The implication was clear: Whatever I say, you will do it. Do not question me.
Margaret's heart raced at his words, and she suddenly realized that the person before her possessed a power unlike anything ordinary people had, able to easily bring about her death. He was not someone with whom she could negotiate.
She had been deceived by the man's polite and courteous facade! His words betrayed his nature: high and mighty, not permitting anyone to defy him, like someone who could decide a person's life or death with just a single phrase!
Margaret's eyes widened, and she barely blinked, her body tense as she swallowed hard. After a moment, she said, "I understand."
"However, I hope you won't harm me once you have what you want."
"That is my only request."
At this, the man's eyes flickered slightly, and a subtle smile tugged at his lips.
"Agreed."
As soon as those words left his lips, Margaret let out a sigh of relief and went upstairs to retrieve the documents.
While opening the safe to get the physical files, she couldn't help but glance outside through the open window. The night was pitch black, with shadows of trees swaying gently. But before she could look any longer, suddenly, the two windows slammed shut with a loud "bang," startling her.
Seeing this, Margaret's heart sank completely. She grabbed the documents, not even bothering to close the safe behind her, and hurried downstairs, not daring to waste a moment.
She sat opposite the mysterious man, placing the documents on the table and pushing them toward him, while she opened her mouth to say, "This is the information I gathered after eavesdropping on Thompson's secrets. There's also a recording from that time."
As she spoke, she handed over the original audio file as well.
The man reached for the documents and the USB drive containing the audio, then casually opened the files and began flipping through them. For a moment, the room was filled with the sound of paper rustling and their light breaths, creating an atmosphere of tension.
Margaret sat there, her heart pounding, feeling as if each passing second stretched into eternity, torturing her.
It wasn't until the clock on the wall chimed again that she heard the sound of the documents being closed, signaling that he had finished reading.
Would he leave now? Or would he...
Her heart raced as Margaret desperately hoped that he would keep his promise and leave quickly.
"Have you retracted the information you were going to disseminate?"
At this moment, the man casually tossed the stack of documents aside and looked at her with cold eyes, suddenly asking this question.
"What?" Margaret was taken aback. Wasn't he in cahoots with Thompson? Was he trying to deceive her?
The man instructed her coolly, "Go handle those matters. I don't want this information to be spread."
What could Margaret say? She had no ability to resist him; if she wanted to stay alive, she had no choice but to obediently follow his orders. So, it was well into the early hours of the morning when she finally finished handling everything.
The man had patiently waited for her this entire time. Margaret noticed that his posture hadn't changed even slightly from the beginning, but she no longer had the luxury to ponder this. She just wanted to end everything safely and as soon as possible.
When the man saw Margaret return to report to him, he smiled and said, "Good."
This simple "good" eased Margaret's nerves a little, making her think that he was satisfied with her compliance and would leave once he got what he wanted.
But unexpectedly, the next moment, an invisible force tightened around her throat, and she felt her bones creak under the pressure.