A few minutes after Ross had planted his flower, the funeral finally came to an end.
The media scattered out, heading back to their stations with the somber message they carried.
There was nothing else to discuss other than how they would cope with the loss—unaware that another story was unfolding beneath the funeral's shadow.
Elod Mutt had just lost every company he owned, along with the organizations tied to him after they lost their funding.
One would only imagine the shame they would feel, the mocking eyes that would fall on them, judging them.
Some would even create theories—far from the truth.
"His son is a joke. I thought he boastfully said he would protect his father's legacy!"
"Don't waste your time talking about him. He's all talk and no show."
Images formed in their minds—foreshadowing the violent fate awaiting them if nothing was done.
...…
The mourning family stood in a straight line along the road leading out of the cemetery, giving salutations to everyone who attended. The guests returned the gesture, praising how neat and well-organized the funeral had been.
"Linda!" Marie called as Linda's turn came to say goodbye.
"I'm your girl. Call me if you need anything!" Linda said, pointing her fingers in a cheerful, playful way.
"Soon enough. Keep your phone close—I'll need a beer buddy when we're not buried in work."
"You got it!"
She moved to the next person in line—Ross.
But something about him was different.
His cheeks widened, his face bright, smiling brighter than ever.
A smile Linda hadn't seen since they were kids playing video games, back when he beat her dad and bragged about it.
A welcoming presence, the same one Linward forced him to give out to everyone—even strangers.
Linda blushed at the sight, her heart kicking into a wild stampede as their hands collided in a handshake.
"Did she convince him?" she wondered.
Because he's looking at me like a man does on his wedding day.
Her cheeks reddened—an interpretation so far off it was almost comedic.
"Linda, could you move please? You're holding up the line!"
Ross muttered cheerfully, shattering her daydreams into pieces.
All hope fled her heart—like veins snapping out of her body.
"You threw a great funeral. Elod would be proud," Linda said to Mrs. Mutt, smiling like a potential future in-law.
"Thanks. And do me a favor—don't be her bar buddy. She needs a clear head when she goes back to the firm."
"Beer can't distract me from work. Nothing can!" Marie protested.
"I don't care—that's how I want it!"
"Don't worry, I'm on it," Linda interjected, following it with a secret wink at Marie—at an angle no one saw—before heading toward her car.
Ross's eyes followed her all the way.
"Is it just me, or has her ass gotten bigger?" he wondered, shrugging the thought off like a cat in no-cat territory.
Thud.
Thud.
Linward approached them, carrying a small box in his hand.
"Madam," he muttered respectfully, bowing slightly—though just enough to look like he was speaking to a queen rather than a billionaire's widow.
"Young Master.
Young Miss."
An introduction to a story that was about to continue.
"I would tell you to stop that, but you never listen," Ross's mother said.
Linward only smiled. He felt adored, not criticized.
"I wanted to give you two something your father left. Madam, if you could give us some space—boss's orders."
The siblings exchanged looks. This was something serious—serious enough that their mother wasn't included.
"Before your father died, he told me that if anything happened to him, I should give you this."
He lifted a small square black box, vintagely designed. Pressing his finger on the lock, light shimmered, scanning his biometrics.
After a few scans, it clicked open, revealing a small book—designed like a diary with a thin red rope—and beside it, a diamond watch reflecting sharp sunlight off its polished surface.
Strangely, the time displayed was off.
15:03.
Yet it was 11:52 AM.
Linward reached for the diary and extended it dramatically toward Marie.
Her eyes narrowed, forehead wrinkling as she wondered why her father would leave her something as simple as a diary.
Indecisiveness flooded her soul—but respect won.
She took it, though she didn't open it despite drowning in curiosity.
He then removed the watch and handed it to Ross. The moment Ross touched it, something deep inside him shifted.
I don't deserve it, he thought, a subtle tear forming.
The watch was something his father cherished. He bought it the day he became a millionaire. Years later, to keep it perfect, he locked it in a vault, preserving it in mint condition.
Now it was handed to Ross—like a torch being passed down.
A heartfelt moment… if only Ross hadn't already lost every piece of his father's legacy.
He could've refused it, but experience told him something: you never change Linward's mind.
That was why, while they were growing up, their father always used Linward to deliver favors, gifts, and instructions.
"Ross and Marie," Linward said as he stepped back, "I'm glad I did my part. Your father's spirit is proud of me."
The siblings froze. They never expected their father to leave something like that.
A diary.
And a watch.
Finally, Marie opened the book, finding his recorded days—his neat handwriting clean and orderly, proof of the man he was.
At the end of the pages, a slight circular hole pierced the paper. Whether created by accident or intention, it had formed after the writing, because the partial words still clung to the rim of the tear.
"We should get going, right?" Ross said.
"Yeah. I'll tell Mom!"
Marie rushed to her mother, who was now accompanied by two fancy guests, their eyes gasping at her glories.
Suddenly—
Ross's eyes flared blue as Medussa's voice echoed in his mind.
[How are you holding up?]
Good, I assume, he answered internally.
[Alright then. Remember the favor I mentioned?]
What about it?
[I have to cash in on one.]
Now?
[Soon. When you get home. Besides… it's a good chance for you to get stronger.]
"Aah…"
He inhaled sharply.
Tell me about it when I'm alone.
[It's a deal.]
"Let's go," Marie interrupted.
They began walking toward the car area, discussing the new development.
Unexpectedly, Ross extended the diamond watch to Marie.
"What are you doing?" she asked, startled.
"Take it. I'll take it back when I reclaim Dad's companies."
The driver opened the back door, but his bosses were locked in a stubborn argument.
Marie hesitated, eyes flicking between Ross and the watch.
"Why? Don't—please."
"Take it," he repeated firmly.
Tension peaked. Ross didn't waver. When he wanted something, he didn't stop until he had it.
She had no choice but to give in and take it.
...…
Zabi and Roy still watched the funeral from afar.
"I'm tired and horny. I want to go home," Roy whined, covering his mouth as he yawned.
"Don't worry," Zabi muttered. "We're done here. I was waiting for them to go home so we can kill them there. Tell the soldiers to prepare. There will be a bloodbath at the Mutts' tonight."