Time passed so quickly that, before he realized it, he was already eighteen years old. As for her, her birthday was in February… she should be twenty by traditional reckoning now.
Lillian thought this as he watched the group chatting among themselves. Soon afterward, a manager led them toward the elevators.
He withdrew his gaze, thinking that none of this concerned him. So much time had passed—no matter what had once existed between them, they were now strangers walking separate paths. There was no need to disturb another person's life.
Just as he turned to leave, however, the corner of his eye caught sight of the so-called "Second Heir" raising his hand toward a lobby manager, forming a gesture resembling the number six. The manager smiled knowingly, nodded, gave a thumbs-up, then subtly pressed the first joint of his thumb downward.
Lillian's expression changed instantly.
Three months earlier, he had seen that exact expression—and that same gesture—from the manager. At the time, he had not understood what it meant. But later, after finishing a night shift and leaving in the morning, he had seen a young woman who had come to play the night before running out of the building, her face streaked with tears.
After that… it happened several more times. Lillian could no longer clearly remember how many.
He had reported it to the police once. But the outcome had not been the arrest of those involved. Instead, the manager had gathered all the employees and interrogated them one by one, while muscular security guards stood nearby, fists tightly clenched.
If not for his strong composure—and the fact that he had used a public phone—he might have been exposed. He could not imagine what would have happened to him otherwise.
Lillian had come to understand the disgusting rules of this "game." At first, he remained working there because leaving suddenly might arouse suspicion. Secondly, he wanted to do what little he could—to gather evidence. He had no desire to be a hero, but being completely alone in the world, with nothing tying him down, he possessed a reckless courage born of having nothing to lose.
Several months had passed, yet he had failed to obtain any decisive evidence. But now, it was too late to leave.
In fact, he suddenly felt grateful that he had not.
He ran back to the staff break room, took out the phone in his pocket, and pressed three digits.
"Hello, this is—"
Creak.
The door suddenly opened, and Lillian immediately hung up.
"Lillian, what are you doing here?" It was the Manager, the same man from earlier. He looked suspiciously at the phone in Lillian's hand. "Why aren't you working? Who are you calling during work hours?"
"A classmate," Lillian replied calmly, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "We were planning to hang out this weekend."
"You don't know you're not allowed to make calls during work? Be careful, or I'll dock your pay."
"I understand, Manager."
"Mm. Go clean up the entrance."
"Alright."
Lillian quickly stepped forward, but after only a few paces, he was called back.
"Wait." the Manager stopped him. "Give me your phone. That way you won't play with it again—I'll keep it until the end of your shift."
"…"
Lillian's hesitation made the Manager frown. "What's the matter? Don't want to work anymore?"
"No… no."
Lillian glanced aside, then took the phone from his pocket and handed it over. It was an old full-keyboard phone he had bought years ago—not a smartphone. Though it had a power-on password, it lacked a screen-lock function.
"Why are you still using this kind of phone?" the Manager examined it with a frown, casually turning on the screen and checking the applications. "Even if you can't afford an iphone, you could at least get a cheap Android. You're so young—using something like this, aren't you being left behind by the times? I mean… what are you doing?! You—!"
Thud!!
Plop.
Drip… drip…
Several drops of blood fell onto the floor from the mop handle Lillian gripped with both hands. He panted heavily, staring at the unconscious man lying on the ground. Biting his lip hard, he forced himself to calm down.
He bent down, retrieved his phone, then dragged the Manager to his locker. Opening it, he threw his own spare clothes onto the floor, tore the electronic keycard hanging from the man's chest, and stuffed it into his pocket. He then forced the man's body into the locker and locked it shut.
Afterward, he quickly threw the wooden handle into the cleaning bucket, discarded his clothes, and rushed outside.
There had been no other choice. If the manager had opened the call history, the most recent outgoing call would have exposed everything instantly. At that point, it would all be over.
But by doing this, once the man woke up, the consequences would be the same.
He only had this brief window of time.
---
Running outside, Lillian took out his phone and dialed the three digits again. Yet his finger hesitated over the call button, trembling slightly.
If I really do this… they'll definitely find me, he thought.
Even so, he pressed the call button.
"Hello, this is X City—"
"The address is No. 16 South Second Road, X Entertainment Center! Something has happened here—" Lillian paused, then gritted his teeth. "A murder has occurred! Someone's been killed! Please come quickly!"
Without waiting for the operator's response, he hung up. Other reports might not receive immediate attention, but a homicide—surely they would not dare delay.
Having done all this, Lillian looked at the bustling traffic on the street, knowing that his fate had now been completely altered. He did not know what would happen next, but he did not regret his choice.
Checking the time, he realized that nearly forty minutes had passed through all this commotion. It was almost eleven o'clock. Before the police arrived, he still had something to do.
He ran back into the building. Taking advantage of a moment when the other employees were not paying attention, Lillian approached the elevator, used the keycard taken from the Manager, and pressed the button for the ninth floor—the top level.
Those people had certainly gone to the top-floor "Dragon." The entire floor contained only five private rooms, each priced at one hundred thousand per day. Of course, that was merely the listed price—regular customers paid far less, otherwise no one would spend money here daily. After all, wealthy people were not fools.
Ding.
The elevator arrived. Before the doors opened, Lillian glanced at the metal surface, seeing his own reflection filled with tension. It was impossible not to be nervous while doing something like this—moreover, despite working here for over half a year, he had never once been to the top floor.
When the elevator doors slid open, a vast hall lay before him. The floor was covered in creamy white marble, and at the center stood a large ornamental pool in which several red koi swam. Behind the pool, a dragon-shaped relief was carved into the wall.
If he had more time, he would have liked to look around carefully. But he had not come here for sightseeing.
Without hesitation, he headed toward the corridor on the right.
Because there were so few private rooms, the top floor also had very few attendants. Lillian did not see a single one. This was extremely strange—but in the next moment he understood. It was not that there were none; they had all been deliberately reassigned elsewhere by someone with ulterior motives.
If that were the case, then only one of the rooms would likely be occupied. He checked them one by one and quickly found the group—in the third private room.
Lillian stood at the doorway. The door was not fully closed. Peering through the gap, he saw people lounging on sofas, laughing and chatting. Several of them looked abnormally excited, their expressions unnatural—clearly they had taken something.
But the problem was… where was she?
Lillian searched anxiously. He saw the red-haired Second Heir, saw the chaotic revelry, but not the person he was looking for. Where had she gone?!
At that moment, the Second Heir stood up and walked toward the door. Lillian quickly slipped aside to hide. After the man exited and headed straight for the restroom, Lillian suddenly realized the answer. Of course—if she was not in the room, the only place she could be was the restroom.
He quietly followed him to the restroom entrance.
The Second Heir walked straight into the women's restroom, saying as he went, "Ria, why are you taking so long? Are you alright? Let me check on you~"
He opened a stall door. It was empty. Frowning slightly, he moved to the next one.
"Stop hiding. There's no point. All the attendants on this floor have been transferred away. It's just us here now."
He opened another stall—still empty.
"Don't blame me. To be honest, the only way to get your father to approve that project with my family is through you. If I pull this off, I'll finally surpass my older brother. Otherwise the old man only ever pays attention to him and ignores me—he even sent me off to America without a second thought."
After speaking, he stopped before the final stall.
"Ria, you're quite cautious, I'll give you that. But you know, you don't even have to drink that stuff—just smelling it works." He let out a lewd chuckle and forcefully pulled the door open. "Come out!"
His expression froze.
The last stall was empty as well.
"Where is she?!"
Before he could react, something struck the back of his head with tremendous force. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the ground.
Behind him, Lillian stood holding a mop handle, his face dark. He tossed the mop aside and rushed toward the men's restroom. He should have guessed earlier—with her intelligence, if she needed to hide, she would certainly hide in the men's restroom.
Running over, he pulled open the stall doors one by one while calling out in a low voice, "Ria! Are you there? I'm not with them!"
As he shouted, he opened the second-to-last stall and found the girl sitting on the closed toilet lid. Her breathing was rapid, her expression weak and unfocused. Just as that bastard had said—she had inhaled something.
"Ria—"
Swish!
A flash of cold light sliced through the air. Lillian instinctively dodged to the side. His clothes tore with a sharp rip. To his shock, he saw that she was gripping a knife in her hand.
"Get a hold of yourself!"
He grabbed her wrist tightly and shouted in a low voice, "I'm here to save you!"
The shout had some effect. The drowsy Ria regained a little clarity. Her brows knitted tightly as she forced herself to look at him, her voice weak.
"Who… are you?"
"…."
Lillian froze, as if he had not expected such a perfectly reasonable question. Subconsciously, he had assumed she would recognize him at a glance—just as he had recognized her.
What was I thinking…
"I'm just… a staff member who couldn't stand by and do nothing."
After being taken in by such a family, she would surely be surrounded by happiness. Countless good, outstanding friends would stand by her side. What meaning could that brief time in the orphanage possibly hold? Why would it remain in her memory?
"…Why?"
Even in her half-conscious state, Ria remained as perceptive as ever, instantly grasping the heart of the matter. Why would a mere staff member risk offending those people to help her?
"Because you remind me of someone I once knew."
As he answered, Lillian reached out and helped her to her feet—just as he had done nine years ago.