'Huh? Where am I?' Dave wondered as he tried to look around.
His anxiety spiked when he realized he couldn't see a thing in the unending, pitch-black void surrounding him.
It was as if he was floating in nothingness, with no sense of up or down.
'What happened? How in the world did I end up here?' Questions without answers bombarded his mind, each one more unsettling than the last.
He tried to move his body but found he couldn't. Yet, he could feel himself suspended in a warm, liquid-like substance that clung to him like a second skin.
The sensation was oddly comforting, but the pressure around him was unnerving. It felt as if the darkness itself was pressing down on him, squeezing him from all sides.
'Is this some kind of nightmare? Or did that old bastard finally decide to kill me?'
Strange sounds echoed in the distance, faint and indistinct.
They were unlike anything he'd ever heard before—a mix of muffled whispers and rhythmic thumps.
'What are those weird sounds?' He couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. The darkness was so absolute that it made no difference.
'Hah~ As long as I'm still conscious, it means the bastard still wants me alive. I really fucked up, trying to steal from him...'
'Oh well, I guess I'll have to beg him to let me go.' He sighed inwardly, resigning himself to his fate as he tried to piece together what he thinks happened 'a few moments ago'.
Nine months earlier…
The warehouse was dimly lit, the faint glow of a single overhead bulb casting long shadows across the concrete floor.
Dave lay curled on the ground, his body aching from the blows he'd already endured.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his breath came in ragged gasps.
Standing over him was James, a middle-aged man with short black hair and a face like thunder.
His dark blue suit, adorned with white stripes, was immaculate, a stark contrast to the violence he'd just inflicted on the twenty-year-old boy.
"You son of a bitch!" James landed another powerful kick to Dave's belly.
The young man coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body convulsing in pain.
"You think you can steal from me and get away with it? You've got another thing coming, brat."
Dave glared up at him, his eyes filled with defiance despite his battered state.
"What more do you want from me, old man?" he spat, his voice hoarse but laced with sarcasm.
"You've already taken all the money I have."
James crouched down, his sunglasses hiding the cold fury in his brown eyes.
"You have two options," he said, his voice low and menacing.
"Either you work for me, or I take your kidneys as compensation. What's it gonna be?"
Dave's response was swift and defiant. He spat a bloody wad onto James's face, his lips curling into a smirk despite the pain.
"Go to hell, old man," he rasped.
James recoiled, wiping the spit off his face with a disgusted grunt.
"Ugh! You little—" He took two steps back, his jaw tightening as he turned to two men standing nearby.
"It seems he hasn't had enough... give him some more."
The two lackeys stepped forward, their grins predatory. One brandished a baseball bat, while the other cracked his knuckles.
"Don't worry, kid," the first man said, swinging the bat.
"We'll help you change your mind."
The bat connected with Dave's chest, sending a searing pain through his body.
He coughed up more blood, but the blows kept coming.
Each strike felt like a hammer, crushing his ribs and bruising his flesh. Yet, despite the agony, Dave's mind clung to one thought:
'I'm still not going to work for you.'
Unbeknownst to his attackers, something in Dave's back pocket began to glow faintly.
A small, golden orb, no larger than a marble, pulsed with an otherworldly light.
As the blows rained down, the orb grew brighter, drawing Dave's blood toward it in thin, crimson streams. The blood pooled around the orb, absorbed into its shimmering surface.
One of the lackeys paused mid-kick, his eyes narrowing.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing at Dave's pocket.
"Didn't we take his phone earlier?"
His partner glanced at the purple-cased phone lying on a nearby table.
"Yeah, we did. So what's glowing in his pocket?"
Curiosity overcame caution as the man crouched beside Dave, reaching for the glowing object. The moment his fingers brushed the orb, a jolt of energy shot through him.
"Argh!" he screamed and fell backwards as he threw the orb to the ground.
James stepped closer, his eyes widening as he took in the bizarre scene that began unfolding in front of them...
The orb hovered above Dave, glowing brighter with each passing second.
Streams of blood flowed from Dave's wounds into the orb, which grew larger and more radiant. The air around it crackled with energy, and a sense of dread filled the room.
"What the hell is that thing?" James muttered, backing away.
His lackeys followed suit, their previous bravado was replaced by fear.
The orb began to spin, its light intensifying until it engulfed the entire warehouse.
Dave's body grew pale as the orb drained him of blood, and his consciousness began slipping away. With a final, blinding flash, his body disintegrated into gray particles, that the orb still absorbed.
James and his men bolted for the exit, their instincts screaming at them to flee.
They barely made it outside before a deafening explosion tore through the warehouse.
Golden energy erupted, reducing the building to rubble in an instant.
Yet, as quickly as it had erupted, the energy vanished, leaving behind only silence and destruction.
"What the hell just happened?" one of the lackeys gasped while staring at the smoldering ruins.
James shook his head and replied with a trembling voice. "We're lucky to be alive… that's what happened."
While the men stared at the ruins in front of them, they failed to hear a flitting voice in the wind…
[A new heir has been found.]