"You've done something... unimaginable," Victor speaks, sitting in a room with Ren before him.
"Emily walked today. Walked. She hasn't smiles like that in a long time. I can't thank you enough."
Ren picks up a glass of luxury wine, studies the amber liquid for a moment, but doesn't drink. His expression remains unreadable, calm.
"Gratitude is nice, Mr. Lancaster. But miracles come at a price."
Victor stiffens, his expression shifting from relief to guarded curiosity.
"What kind of price are you talking about?"
Ren leans back in the chair, his tone measured, every word deliberate.
"What I've done for your daughter isn't permanent. Her legs—they're healed, but not fully restored. Without continued care, they'll degenerate again."
Victor's grip tightens on his glass.
"Degenerate? What do you mean? You... you said she was healed!"
Ren's voice remains calm, almost indifferent.
"And she is. But think of it as a foundation. What I've built is strong, but without regular maintenance, it will crumble." He sets the glass down with a soft clink.
"Maintaining that foundation comes at a cost."
Victor stares at him, his mind racing. The man before him isn't a doctor, isn't a scientist—he's something else entirely.
"How much?" Victor finally asks, his voice low.
"Five percent of your annual income. Every year," Ren says.
"It's a small price to pay for your daughter's happiness, wouldn't you agree?"
Victor's jaw tightens, "And if I refuse?" he says, to test what would happen.
Ren's eyes darken, his tone dropping a degree colder.
"Then your daughter's legs will begin to fail. Slowly, at first. A limp. Pain. And then... back to where she was before." He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle.
"Of course, you're free to make that choice. But can you live with it, watching your precious daughter lose them again before your eyes?"
Victor's hand trembles as he sets his glass down.
Five percent of my income—it's millions. Yet, compared to what I've witnessed today, it's nothing. Even if I have to give away half my wealth, it's worth it.
These people aren't normal. What they can do... it's beyond imagination. If I can be part of them, even stick to them, the possibilities are endless.
He takes a deep breath, nodding.
"Fine. I'll pay. Just make sure Emily doesn't suffer ever again."
Ren smirks slightly, leaning forward.
"Wise choice. Payments will begin immediately. You'll receive instructions on how to transfer the funds."
Victor hesitates, then blurts out,
"Mr Incubi, please, I want to be part of this."
Ren raises an eyebrow. "Part of what?"
"This... group. Whatever it is you're part of. I want in."
Ren's expression doesn't change, but his tone becomes sharper, more commanding.
"Do you? But this isn't a club you can buy your way into, Mr. Lancaster. Joining us isn't about money. It's about loyalty, discretion, and sacrifice."
Victor leans forward, his desperation evident.
"I'm willing to do whatever it takes. Connections, resources, wealth—you name it. I'll prove myself."
Ren studies him for a long moment before replying.
"Prove yourself? Fine. Find us something valuable—something we can use. Information, assets, influence. Show us you're more than just another rich man looking to cling to the strong." He stands, his tone final.
"But remember: loyalty is absolute. Betray us, and you won't live to regret it."
Victor nods quickly, his mind already racing.
I'll prove myself. Whatever it takes. If I can just get close to them... no, if I can become one of them... everything will change.
Ren pulls out his phone, taps on the screen, and inputs Victor's details.
"You're in. For now. You will be invited to the group where you will get jobs that you will need to complete in order to become a permanent member. Don't disappoint me."
Victor exhales sharply, relief washing over him.
"Thank you. I won't let you down."
Ren pockets his phone and moves toward the door, clocking himself invisible in the shield again.
"See that you don't, Mr Lancaster."
Ren arrives at the base, the sleek facility humming with quiet energy. Elisha and Jason (tech guy) are waiting, their expressions expectant.
As Ren walks in, he tosses a briefcase onto the table. It lands with a satisfying thud, and Elisha opens it, her eyes widening at the stacks of cash.
"Five million," Ren breathes.
"Not bad for a first job, right?"
Elisha gasps at the money,
"We're officially in business."
Ren leans against the wall, his arms crossed.
"Hah, this is just the beginning. We're not here to scrape by—we're here to dominate."
Elisha closes the briefcase, a smirk playing on her lips.
"What's the next move?"
Ren smirks back.
"Patience, Elisha. For now, enjoy the moment. Tomorrow, we plan."
Ren returns to the apartment late that night, the city quiet and still. Lina is asleep on her bed, her breathing soft and steady.
Ren pauses, brushing a strand of hair from her face and kissing her forehead lightly before heading to his room.
On the bedside table, the mysterious metal sits in silence, as if it's just another ordinary metal.
He lies on the bed, his eyes closing as plans for the future.
But future has something else stored for him.