When the truck roared and began speeding, Gehran barely had time to recover. As the vehicle picked up speed, he clutched at anything within reach for stability.
Opening his shaky eyes, confusion quickly spread across his face.
He has yet to get inside the truck, where he could sit in comfort and protection. He knew he shouldn’t be here in the back.
"Huh?" He looked to his left and right, only to see four mercenaries riding in the back with him. "Where’s... where’s Jarvis?"
The mercenaries glanced at him, then exchanged looks among themselves.
Gehran studied their expressions, and a sinking feeling settled in his gut. Something was wrong. Turning toward the window that separated the back from the front of the truck, he spotted Jarvis and the young lackey seated inside.
"Hey!" he shouted, slapping the window to get their attention. "How come you’re both inside while I’m stuck in the back?! Stop this vehicle right this instant! I can’t stay in the back here where anyone can shoot me!"
His voice managed to reach inside, but faint.
The young lackey lowered his head, clearly avoiding eye contact. Jarvis, on the other hand, turned calmly and met the governor’s gaze. The latter blinked ever so slowly as if he wasn’t seeing anything wrong with this.
Gehran recognized that look immediately.
It was the same empty look Jarvis wore whenever he deemed something—or someone—no longer useful. The same look that had devastated and ruined those who had seen it themselves.
"Jarvis, don’t tell me..."
After a brief moment, Jarvis shifted his gaze past Gehran and toward one of the mercenaries riding in the back. He blinked once, subtly nodded, then looked away.
Gehran didn’t understand the signal, but his instinct screamed that it spelled disaster.
At the same time, the truck took a sharp turn, slamming into several closed market stalls lining the street. The impact sent Gehran sliding violently across the truck bed. The moment his body hit the side, the metal wall that reached up to his chest gave way with a sharp clatter.
"Ack—!"
Before Gehran could even process what had happened, he was hurled from the moving vehicle. His body rolled hard against the asphalt, pain exploding through every limb. Only when he finally stopped tumbling did the agony fully register.
"Ugh..." he groaned, propping himself weakly on one arm. He tried to push himself up, still lying on his stomach, but his body refused to cooperate.
When he lifted his head, his eyes widened in disbelief.
The truck was already speeding away without him.
The mercenaries riding in the back had clearly seen him fall. Their eyes met his for a split second before they deliberately turned away.
"Jarvis..." Gehran snarled, fury flooding his face. "Jarvis!! You ungrateful bastard! How could you do this to me?!"
But the truck continued without slowing.
Inside the vehicle, Jarvis watched Gehran’s frantic shouting through the side mirror. The young lackey followed his gaze, visibly shaken as the governor shrank into the distance.
"Jarvis..." the young lackey finally spoke, his voice trembling. "Are we really just leaving the governor like that?"
"New Gehran is already crawling with the rats Billionaire let inside," Jarvis replied coolly, without a hint of remorse. "They’ve seized control of the main power plant, and I’m certain they’ve already moved on to other critical points across the region."
He paused, casting the young man a sharp side glance. "Leaving him behind buys us time. Time for our forces to regroup, and time for us to escape. There’s no value in resisting at this point. A tactical retreat is just as important as crushing an enemy."
The young lackey swallowed hard. Jarvis had warned him before.
"Worst comes to worst, we may have to abandon the governor."
And now, the worst had come.
Gehran might have carried the title of governor, but the mercenaries and private forces didn’t truly belong to him. They obeyed Jarvis. Between the two, their loyalty was never in question.
Tonight, Jarvis made that clear.
"Why?" Jarvis asked quietly, eyes fixed ahead. "Do you think it was the wrong call?"
The young lackey pressed his lips together, staring at Jarvis’s profile. "Jarvis... you’re frightening me."
Jarvis didn’t respond immediately.
"You should be," he said at last. "There’s no reason you shouldn’t be, Gene."
He turned slightly toward the driver. "Drive faster. They may not have noticed us yet, but those rats move quickly. Especially Hajime, and that unhinged woman. We need to put as much distance between us and this city as possible."
Vroom!
His words cut off abruptly as the sharp roar of an engine thundered behind them.
Jarvis’s eyes snapped to the side mirror.
There, he saw a single motorcycle rapidly closing in.
His jaw tightened, fingers curling into a fist.
"How..." the mercenary in the passenger seat muttered, eyes wide as the headlight glare filled the mirror. "...did he notice us so fast?"
The rider was unmistakable.
Haji.
"Damn it!" the driver cursed, slamming his foot down harder on the accelerator. "These rats just wouldn’t give up, would they?!"
Jarvis’s expression darkened. He knew Haji wouldn’t back down now.
Gene stared out the window, then back at Jarvis, panic etched across his pale face.
"He’s going to catch us!" Gene shouted. "What do we do?!"
*
*
*
At the same time, Haji’s eyes burned as he locked onto the fleeing truck. Instead of accelerating recklessly, he briefly checked his side mirror.
"Damn..." he hissed, jaw tightening.
He had just sped past Gehran moments earlier—too fast to stop in time. If he’d realized immediately, he would’ve run the man down without hesitation. The urge still lingered in his chest.
But letting emotion rule him now would mean letting Jarvis escape.
And that was unacceptable.
"Jarvis," Haji whispered, leaning forward as the engine roared beneath him. "You’ve gotten away with too much... but not tonight."
A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he focused on closing the distance.
Tonight, Haji would settle the score with the man who stole his family, his land, and his future.
And when dawn came... only one of them would still be standing.