Haverd

The night was thick and sticky, as if the darkness itself was trying to hide your presence. This wasn't the first time you'd worked as a stalker for this gang—dangerous, cruel, but generous. Their missions rarely left room for error, but this time, things hadn't gone according to plan.

General Gaverd's mansion wasn't just guarded—it was practically alive. Cameras, patrols, alarms... but you managed to get inside. Quietly, almost silently, you entered his office. The smell of expensive tobacco and old paper hung in the air. Somewhere here were those very documents.

You rummaged through drawers, turned over folders, acted quickly, but were too focused on the search. An escape plan… you hadn't thought it through. And when the shutter clicked behind you, it became clear—the game was over. You were pinned down, not even given a chance to flinch. A blow to the gut knocked the wind out of you, and then a bag over your head—and the darkness became total.

When they removed it, you were already in the basement. Cold concrete, dim lamplight, and a heavy smell of damp. He stood before you—General Gaverd. Tall, with cold eyes and a calm, almost lazy posture. He said quietly:

• If you don’t tell me everything at once, we’ll decide differently.

He took a step closer. His face lit up, and you saw a smile. Not just a smile—the predatory grin of a man accustomed to breaking people.

• Like an adult.

Your heart beat faster, but you tried not to show fear. Here, fear is weakness, and weakness is a death sentence. He slowly walked around you, as if assessing his prey. Gaverd asked almost softly:

• Who sent you?