While Vekir and Stanley continued their tense discussion, one of Vekir's escorts quietly detached himself from the group. His movements were swift and precise—clearly, this wasn't his first time navigating such terrain. He moved with purpose, pausing only occasionally to scan the trees on either side as if searching for a hidden sign or marker.
After nearly ten minutes of silent travel, he reached a clearing far removed from the village. There, a group of armed individuals stood, gathered in tense anticipation, clearly preparing for a confrontation. The moment they spotted the lone man approaching, several of them instinctively unsheathed their weapons. But instead of reacting, the man calmly reached into his cloak and produced a small token.
The change was immediate.
The warriors relaxed, weapons lowered, and a path opened for him to pass. At the center of the group stood Jenkins, who raised a hand in recognition and gestured for the man to come closer.
Still clad in military gear, the courier handed Jenkins a sealed letter and turned on his heel, departing without a word.
Jenkins stared after him, then exhaled heavily and broke the seal on the letter. As he read, his brow furrowed deeper with every line. The air around him grew heavy with tension as his men watched, waiting for an explanation.
When he finally finished, Jenkins crushed the letter in his fist and muttered through clenched teeth, "God fucking damn it… You're telling me everything I've done this past month was for nothing?"
Confused glances passed between the men, until one of them finally broke the silence. "Boss? What's going on? Everything alright?"
Jenkins let out a bitter sigh. "No. Nothing is alright. Orders from above—pack up and pull out. We're abandoning the whole operation."
A wave of murmurs rippled through the group. Some men looked relieved at the idea of leaving the hellhole behind; others exchanged frustrated glances, their efforts now seemingly wasted.
Once Jenkins shared the contents of the letter, the mood shifted again—this time from confusion to urgency. A large force was en route, and they needed to evacuate immediately.
Without delay, the team began scrambling to gather their gear, breaking down temporary structures and erasing any trace of their presence. Meanwhile, Jenkins took a final walk around the perimeter of the village, as if saying goodbye—or maybe ensuring nothing was left behind.
Fifteen minutes later, as he navigated through the underbrush, he spotted a familiar figure slipping toward a half-hidden entrance. Ethan. The boy was heading toward his secret hideout, unaware he was being followed.
Jenkins crouched and observed. Ethan was packing provisions quickly, efficiently, his face set in grim determination. There was something about him that intrigued Jenkins more now than ever. A kid surviving in a place like this—not just surviving, but planning, watching, waiting. That took grit.
Footsteps crunching softly on leaves gave Ethan just enough warning. He spun around, startled, eyes wide with panic until he saw who it was.
Jenkins raised an eyebrow and offered a half-smirk. "Yo, kid. Planning a trip?"
Ethan's jaw tensed. "Jenkins? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be busy sabotaging Stanley's operation?"
Jenkins chuckled. "Plans changed. No sabotage today. Or ever, really. Whole thing fell apart."
That made Ethan flinch. He looked away, fists clenched. His voice, when it came, was tight and shaky. "Doesn't matter. Diggen's nearly dead. I don't need anyone else. I'll leave on my own."
He swung his pack onto his shoulder and started walking, but Jenkins got an idea and called after him.
"You're not gonna get far like that, kid. You'll be lucky to survive a two days out there alone."
Ethan stopped and turned, wary. "So what? Should I stay here then?"
Jenkins nodded. "Thou should come with us. Join our organization. You've got potential—and brains. That's rare. We could use someone like you."
Ethan's eyes widened. He hadn't expected that.
"What do you say? It's a sweet deal. You join us, get stronger, and maybe one day come back here and deal with that pig who ruined your life… if he's still around by then."
Ethan stared at him, conflicted. The offer was tempting—more than tempting. It was everything he'd never dared hope for. But trust was hard to come by in a place like this. Still… the alternative was going alone, and that wasn't just risky—it was near-suicidal.
He narrowed his eyes. "Why would you take me in? What's in it for you?"
Jenkins shrugged, honest in a way that caught Ethan off guard. "Because it'll help me in the long run. Anyone can rise in our ranks. And if I do, I want strong allies by my side. You've got the makings of someone I could count on."
He gave a wry smile. "Don't get me wrong—I'm not asking you to be my lapdog. Just… when the time comes and I call on you, remember this moment."
Ethan hesitated. Three long seconds passed. Then he nodded.
"Deal. I'll come with you. But first, I need to grab a few things. And… say goodbye to someone."
Jenkins smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course. We leave in two hours. Be back before then—and don't worry. From this moment on, you're one of us. Anyone tries to touch you, we spill their guts."
Ethan didn't respond. He simply turned and ran, the weight of uncertainty giving way to a rising wave of exhilaration.
I'm really leaving, he thought. This is it. If it's a dream… please let me stay asleep.
As he sprinted through the village, his eyes flicked toward Stanley's house. He hadn't meant to go there, but something in him shifted. He veered off course.
Why not? he thought. I have time. Might as well tell that bitch Wayla the good news. Shame Stanley isn't here to hear it himself—but he's probably still playing diplomat with Vekir.
He threw the door open with a loud bang, startling Wayla, who jumped from her chair. When she saw it was Ethan, she opened her mouth to scold him—but then froze.
There was something in his eyes. Something familiar. It was the same look he'd given Stanley a few days ago—burning, defiant, unafraid. And it scared her in a way she couldn't explain.
Ethan stepped inside, scanning the room. "I only came to say good bye"
"W-what do you mean." Her voice trembled. "W-where do you think you are going kid? If Stanley finds out you're trying to run again—"
He cut her off with a smirk. "Yeah, I know. He can try. But it won't work this time."
Wayla swallowed hard. "Why? What's changed?"
"I'm leaving—with the same people who fucked up Diggen."
Her eyes widened. Ethan stepped closer.
"And stop calling me 'kid.' I have a name. My name is Ethan."
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving Wayla frozen in place, stunned into silence.