Snow flurried across the dark.
Behind the mansion,
the service gate groaned open,
its iron hinges giving a slow, deliberate cry.
A black van rolled in without a sound,
mud clinging to its wheels.
White vapor drifted from the muffler,
hung in the air for a moment, then vanished.
Marcello stepped out from the driver's seat—
a mid-tier enforcer Luca kept on contract.
The crunch of ice broke under his boots.
He slid open the side door.
A wedge of light fell inside, revealing a shadow.
A man was dragged out.
Thin jacket, the back of his neck raw from the cold.
Frozen rain clumped in his hair.
His eyes, half-glazed, wouldn't hold steady.
His wrists were bound tight with coarse rope.
"Street thief,"
Marcello said with a crooked smile.
"Fifty euros on the curb. Cheap, huh?"
Luca didn't answer.
He checked his watch, then jerked his chin.
"Downstairs."
The cellar door shut, locking out the night.
The air turned dry, sterile.
Under fluorescent lights, a stainless-steel bench waited.
On it—Vial 'Ⅰ', a silver tray with syringes,
sterile gauze, an ECG machine.
A neat row of ampoules—emergency sedatives—lined one side.
At the top of the stairs, Bianca leaned against the rail.
She didn't blink.
Her face unreadable, but her gaze was sharp—
like a cat studying prey.
While Luca washed his hands,
Elena strapped a cuff to the subject's arm.
The device whirred, beeped, displayed its numbers.
"Blood pressure's high. Stress response,"
she reported, removing the cuff.
Luca pulled on gloves.
"That's fine. It'll drop soon enough."
He picked up the vial.
Drew the transparent, faintly teal liquid into the syringe.
Under the light, it glimmered like a cold jewel.
Releasing the tourniquet, he spoke low.
"Let's see how fast your mind can run."
The needle slid in, breaking skin with a faint resistance.
The man's shoulder twitched.
The teal fluid disappeared into his vein.
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.
His pupils flickered, then fixed.
His breath came sharper, chest lifting quick.
"…Feels… clear. My head—like I can see through it."
He looked up suddenly.
"Those letters… over there. I can read them. No blur."
His eyes locked on a warning sign taped to the far wall.
He read it clean, every word.
Elena's pen scratched fast over her notes.
"Visual focus enhancement—onset at forty-two seconds,"
she said, calm but precise.
Luca nodded, checking his watch again.
"Not bad for a first response."
But within fifteen minutes, the man's fingers trembled.
Sweat ran down the back of his neck.
Blue veins rose on his forehead.
Breathing turned rough, uneven.
"Heart rate—one-forty. Unstable,"
Elena said, her tone tightening.
Luca studied the man's face for a long beat.
Focus, almost to madness.
Calculation, cold as glass.
Then he checked the time once more,
reached for an ampoule from the tray's far side.
"Give it to him. Side effect was expected."
Elena didn't hesitate.
She readied the sedative.