Deborah's POV
I woke up abruptly, my body drenched in cold sweat, my heart pounding violently as if it wanted to leap out of my chest.
The nightmare didn't feel like an ordinary dream—it was far too vivid, too detailed, as if some unknown power had cast a reflection of future events directly into my mind.
Every single detail was etched so clearly: the acrid smell of molten magma consuming the ground, the scorching pain as my skin felt like it was being seared.
Even now, the lingering fear wrapped around me like a shadow, refusing to loosen its grip, making it nearly impossible to calm down.
Perhaps... this wasn't just a dream.
I shook off the remnants of the vision as best as I could and forced myself to get up, wash, and get dressed.
Deborah's wardrobe was pitifully sparse, a reflection of the severe resource shortages plaguing the underground city of Murias.
But I made the most of it.
With a few careful alterations and repairs, I managed to transform her plain outfits into something slightly more refined, aligning with my personal standards.
When I arrived at the Falshi Research Department (FRD), Mark was already seated at his desk, meticulously poring over a stack of research papers.
He was always so dedicated—never wasting a single second during work hours.
"Morning, Mark," I greeted him softly.
"Morning, Deborah." He looked up, his warm smile as gentle as ever. "You're just in time."
I settled into the seat opposite him, casually bringing up the topic of Falshi research.
Mark was the only person in this world whose thoughts I couldn't read using Telepathy.
His mind was like a flawless, uncut gem—pure and transparent, without a trace of deceit.
He seemed almost childlike in his simplicity, driven solely by a relentless passion for science.
I enjoyed talking to him.
There was no pretense or façade, just unadulterated enthusiasm.
It was as if he had been born to be in a laboratory, dedicated solely to research.
"Mark, have you ever looked into how Falshi is transported after it leaves the ground?"
He paused, considering the question.
"That sort of information is usually classified. It falls under the jurisdiction of the Fian Defense Bureau (FDB). They control Murias' only access point to the surface. Other than a handful of high-ranking officials and those assigned to surface missions, no one really knows where the Falshi ends up."
I kept my tone light, feigning indifference. "So, who gets to go up?"
"Military personnel, scientists, and... the werewolves." Mark's expression darkened slightly. "But even they—once they've been up there, they never return. They either die or... disappear. There are definitely certain secrets there that no one wants any of us to find out."
"Something... secret?" I probed, leaning in slightly.
He stopped mid-sentence, studying me with a searching gaze. "Deborah, you're not planning on going up there yourself, are you?"
His bluntness startled me, but I forced myself to stay calm. "Why would you think that?"
A quiet laugh escaped his lips. "If you really are, take me with you. I've wanted to uncover the truth about Falshi for a long time now. My life's already tied to that cursed mineral. I need to find the answers."
There was a fervent, almost fanatical light in his eyes, an intensity that sent a chill down my spine.
Mark was brilliant—perhaps too brilliant.
His obsession with research and his hunger for the unknown had pushed him to the edge.
"You know," he continued softly, "the workers in Falshi Quarry rarely last more than fifteen years before the radiation claims them. I've already started feeling its effects... my time's running out. Rather than waste away here, I'd rather finish what I started."
The calmness in his voice left me speechless. After a long silence, I nodded slowly. "Alright. But you'll have to tell me what our next move should be."
His eyes lit up, and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You'll need to get your hands on their shift schedules. It's the only way we'll pinpoint the weakest security points. And we'll need someone on the inside—an informant within the Defense Bureau—to get the details. From what I know, the colonel in charge keeps in touch with Murias' boss."
"Boss?" I echoed.
"Yes." Mark moved in even closer, his voice as soft as a whisper. "There's a hidden boss pulling the strings behind many of the city's operations."
A "boss"... I had a gut feeling he was referring to the Lee family—my family.
I was the sole heir to the Lee family, yet I knew so little of its inner workings, its influence.
I had become an outsider to my own legacy, prying into secrets that should have been mine to wield.
The irony was almost laughable.
For the first time, I truly grasped how deep the Lee family's power ran—far deeper than I had imagined.
If I could claim my rightful place as the High Priestess... then, true power would no longer be out of reach.
Lost in thought, I barely noticed when Cora burst into the room. "Deborah, want to grab lunch together?"
"Sure." I shook off my musings and followed her downstairs to the potato garden near the base of our office building.
Food in Murias was bland and monotonous.
With sunlight being a scarce commodity, our diet was limited to potatoes, mushrooms, and a few artificially synthesized proteins.
We settled into a corner of the garden and opened our potato lunchboxes—a staple meal in this dismal underground world.
I was just about to casually bring up Ryan's name when her Mobi buzzed loudly.
"Who is it?" I asked absently.
She frowned at the screen, annoyance flashing across her face. "Ryan."
"Ryan Green?" I feigned surprise.
"Ever since that stupid party, he's been pestering me non-stop. He's not my type." She curled her lip in disdain. "That kind of guy—always hanging out in bars and chasing after girls—I'd never be interested. Even the bartender said he was in trouble. I like my men well-read, not sleazy."
"What did he say now?" I asked lightly.
"The same old stuff—asking me out, trying to flirt. It's exhausting." She tossed her phone onto the table in frustration.
Her exasperation eased my mind a bit.
Cora's instincts about men were usually sharp, and she was too smart to get tangled up with someone like Ryan.
But what she said sparked an idea.
Ryan was a regular at the Mantis Bar, it seemed.
This could be my chance to approach him—draw him in, and extract the information I needed about the FDB.
After work, I rushed home and changed into something more... Ryan's style.
A tight-fitting top and a pair of shorts, transformed from a standard work uniform, paired with black lace details I'd sewn on by hand.
The outfit was daring without being over the top—just the right amount of allure to catch his attention.
When I arrived at the Mantis Bar, I swore to myself I wouldn't touch a single drop of alcohol tonight.
I needed to keep my mind sharp. My goal was simple: draw Ryan in, make him talk.
The bar was dimly lit, packed with people, and filled with the low hum of conversation.
Ryan spotted me almost instantly.
His eyes lit up as he sauntered over, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. "Hey, Deborah. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Hey, Ryan." I smiled back, adding a hint of coyness to my tone. I raised my hand in a small wave, my voice soft and teasing.
He stepped closer, invading my personal space, his gaze brazenly raking over my body. "You look amazing tonight."
"Really? Thank you." I kept my smile in place, suppressing the disgust churning in my stomach. "It's been a while. How about a drink?"
"Of course. I've been waiting for a chance like this."
I inwardly smirked—everything was going exactly as planned.
And I wouldn't let this opportunity slip away.