The mansion was vast enough to swallow Ryan whole, every corridor humming with quiet wealth and authority, but when the gentleman led him down a winding staircase, Ryan realised he had only glimpsed the surface. Torches flickered along stone walls, casting shadows that moved like living things. At the bottom, the air was colder, denser, carrying the faint metallic tang of iron and something stranger, something that raised the hair on Ryan's neck.
They stepped into an underground hall. Ryan stopped short.
It wasn't like anything he had seen before. Rows of weapons gleamed under pale light: blades etched with runes, spears tipped with blackened steel, guns modified with sigils scratched across the barrels.
On one wall hung armours of different eras--knights' breastplates, trench coats stitched with silver threads, even sleek tactical suits. And in the far corner, behind bars reinforced with glowing chains, something shifted. Its form was half-shadow, half-flesh, its eyes burning faintly like coals.
Ryan's breath caught. "Is that--?"
"A demon," the gentleman finished calmly. "One of the lesser kind. Bound, for study. You'll face worse before this is over."
Ryan swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away. His chest still ached from the beating he had taken, but this was different, an ache in the mind, the soul. "Why show me this?"
The gentleman turned to him, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable. "Because, young master, before you can inherit what is yours, you must prove you are not only worthy but capable. The Ardyn bloodline was never just about wealth. It was about guardianship. You are heir not only to fortune but to war."
Ryan's jaw tightened. "And if I fail?"
"Then you die. And worse--the world begins to fall, piece by piece. Because without the reaper, demons run unchecked."
The words struck him harder than a fist. He turned back to the caged creature, its eyes locked on him. For a moment, he imagined himself in that cage, powerless, observed. Then he shook the thought away.
"I don't understand half of this," Ryan muttered. "This bloodline, these demons… and the book. What's in it, really?"
The gentleman's gaze sharpened. "The Book of Contracts. Ever wondered why you began working for the Whintrops? It's because your subconscious was drawn to it."
He stepped closer, his voice grave. "It records every bargain made with the underworld. Pacts, trades, deals made by desperate men and greedy souls. Each contract has a price--and each binds not just the mortal who signs it, but their bloodline. The book is both a ledger and a prison. In the wrong hands, it could enslave countless families to the will of a demon. In the right hands, yours, it is a weapon. But wielding it comes with danger."
Ryan stared at him. "I've opened it once. I thought it was just… names."
"You saw the surface," the gentleman replied. "The ink will shift the more you claim your inheritance. But until you are truly awakened, the book's secrets will stay locked. That is why you must pass the test."
Ryan frowned. "What test?"
The gentleman gestured around the hall. "Survival. Combat. Control. We will see if your blood remembers what your mind has yet to learn." Then he said more softly.
"But do not forget, Ryan, you have two worlds to master. The shadows and the boardroom. You are not only the heir of Ardyn, the reaper. You are also the head of Grotech, a company far more powerful than the Whintrops have ever known. Neglect one, and you risk losing both."
The words sent a cold current through Ryan. He still couldn't believe it. Grotech was his. Ryan rubbed a hand across his face. His head throbbed with the weight of it all. "Demons and companies," he muttered. "What the hell am I supposed to be?"
The gentleman's lips curved, almost a smile. "Exactly what you were born to be."
---
Meanwhile, across the city, Clarissa sat stiffly on a velvet couch in her mother's estate. The chandelier above glittered with cold light, throwing her pale face into sharper angles. Her mother paced before her, sharp-voiced and sharper-eyed.
"That boy humiliated this family. And now he's disappeared? Pathetic."
Clarissa crossed her arms, hiding the flicker of unease in her chest. She had seen the bruise on Ryan's face when he returned that day, had felt a rush of triumph thinking he'd been broken, tamed at last. But now? He had vanished with a relic of no importance, leaving her to look like a fool.
"It was just a book," Clarissa said quickly. "Some old ledger, wasn't it?"
Her mother waved a hand dismissively. "Exactly. Worthless. And yet he took it, dragging our name into scandal. As if his uselessness wasn't enough, now he is a thief as well."
Clarissa clenched her jaw, but before she could respond, Matthias, lounging elegantly by the window, finally spoke.
"Sometimes what seems worthless may hold deeper value," he said smoothly, his dark eyes glinting.
Clarissa snorted. "Don't start, Matthias. Ryan was nothing but a burden. I know I should count myself free now that he's gone." She said failing to understand his deeper meaning.
But Clarissa's attention lingered on Matthias. He had been distant these past days, his thoughts clouded, his gaze often turned inward. More than once she had caught him staring into nothing, as though chasing some shadow only he could see. And now, when he mentioned the book, there was a hunger in his eyes she had never seen before.
Still, he was quick to mask it. Rising, Matthias came to her side, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What matters is this family's future," he said warmly. "Ryan's disappearance will not ruin you, Clarissa. We must stay focused. Grotech is still on the horizon, yes?"
At the mention of the company, Clarissa's mother stiffened. "Yes. Grotech. Now more than ever, Clarissa, you must secure that deal. Our debts are mounting. If we fail to secure them as partners, Whintrop will collapse."
Clarissa nodded, her nails biting into her palms. Grotech. The mysterious empire that had eluded them for years. Its owner was faceless, shielded behind layers of shadowy management. No one knew who held the strings. But Clarissa was determined, she would be the one to pull Grotech into their grasp.