Legends say that Ivanov was the first to establish a devil-worshiping cult in Asia and Europe. It is said that he was a skilled sorcerer, master of all black magic and that he was able to harness a powerful demon to serve his family. Over time, Ivanov disappeared and all news of his family vanished mysteriously, as if they had never existed."

Gabriel: "And what do we know about this company and its director?"

Rose: "She owns shares in most of the world's companies, and she's the driving force behind most cosmetics and pharmaceutical companies. It's also said that many employees have been disappearing, including your children when they joined the company. Surely you and I know what happened to them."

Gabriel: "Certainly, those poor souls. Does the Tchevenkov family have any power in the world or something like that?"

Rose: "Yes, they and eight other families, but I don't have information about them."

Gabriel said, looking surprised, he had actually been embarrassed to ask this question for a while, because he respected people's privacy:

Gabriel: "Rose, where did you get your information?"

Rose said, looking scared and tense: "Honestly, I have a friend from the Tchevenkov family named Eva Tchevenkov. She felt disgusted with her family and decided to create a secret political organization. One of her friends, I don't know his name, but he uses the pseudonym of the famous pirate Henry Every. He doesn't even show his face to the members and tells them the plans using a voice changer, but it's no longer a secret now, to expose her and all the big heads in the world."

Gabriel: "Are you saying...?"

Rose: "Yes, they are "Zero Phantom". That's what I wanted to tell you. You must have figured out that I'm a member of this organization. We need a skilled hacker like you on our team."

Gabriel: "Give me three days to think about it."

What do you think Gabriel's response will be?

In any case, the dinner between the companions ended. It was supposed to be dramatic, but we don't always get what we want, and not everything we plan for happens. Gabriel extended his hand to Rose to help her up after paying the bill. This was the most expensive restaurant he had ever been to, but he was not a man who found value in money.

As Rose walked beside Gabriel, heading towards the exit, the air was warm around them, and the dim light from the lamps scattered gently on the ground. Their footsteps filled the place with a quiet sound as if the world around them had stopped to witness those moments that no one had expected to turn into something worse.

Then, in an unexpected moment, drops of blood began to fall from the ceiling, one after the other, first on Gabriel's hand, then on the floor, then on the walls of the luxurious restaurant. There seemed to be no clear source for this bloody liquid, and everything in the place reflected a state of hidden panic as if those drops were nothing but a warning of something approaching rapidly.

Then the blood began to fall faster as if the ceiling itself had opened its doors to let the rain of blood fall, as abundant as if it were splashing from the veins of another world. The drops of blood fell on people's bodies, on the luxurious furniture, and on the hanging paintings that were gradually turning into distorted images, covered by the terrifying liquid that would not stop. It was as if everything in the restaurant had begun to sink into an ocean of blood.

Rose could not comprehend what was happening. Everything was descending into chaos, and every time she tried to move or speak, the blood covered the place more, until even her crimson red dress began to drip with blood as if it were part of the nightmare itself. The blood clung to it, gradually devouring it until it became the most terrifying part of the scene.

Rose stood dumbfounded, her gaze darting between the blood that was flooding the place, not knowing what to do or where to hide. Her heart was pounding, and her eyes widened in terror. Time and place were collapsing, and everything around her was disappearing in a torrent of blood.

Before she could comprehend or escape, Gabriel felt the weight of her body as she collapsed into his arms, falling unconscious to the ground. The young man took her, terrified for his beloved, to Huber Hospital. When she awoke from her faint, she asked Gabriel:

Rose: "Gabriel, what happened to me?"

Gabriel: "You fainted, but don't worry, the doctor says it was just a drop in blood pressure."

Rose: "How? Didn't you see all that blood pouring down on us?"

Gabriel: "It seems it was just a hallucination, the place was normal."

After the ordeal, the doctor insisted that Rose would need to stay in the hospital for two days. Gabriel went to her room and found her asleep. He gently kissed her forehead, a fleeting gesture of tenderness, and left, closing the door behind him with deliberate care. The weight of her words lingered in his mind like a haunting melody.

 

Seeking solitude, Gabriel made his way to Auckland Harbour under the shroud of midnight. The port was eerily silent, its vast expanse bathed in the cold, pale glow of moonlight. Not a soul stirred. Only Gabriel sat at the edge of the pier, a lone figure against the infinite abyss of the sea. In his hand, he held a cluster of pebbles, idly tossing them into the dark waters below. Each ripple that broke the surface seemed to echo his spiraling thoughts.

 

He muttered to himself, his voice trembling with uncertainty:

"What am I to do? This organization... it is dangerous beyond comprehension, implicated in countless assassinations. Is this truly worth the risk? Can I really hope to change this world, to save it from the intellectual decay that threatens its very core? Can I bring down this cursed company and the Chevchenkov family once and for all? Or am I simply chasing shadows... seeking vengeance for my only friend, the one person who ever understood me? Without him... without Rose... I'd be utterly alone."

 

His words dissolved into the stillness, and he clutched his head in anguish.

"And even if we destroy the Chevchenkovs and their empire, there are seven more families—seven more hydras to slay. Enemies without end. Perhaps it would be better to die in peace, like any ordinary man who lived and perished on this earth. I... I simply don't know anymore. I don't know."

 

His despair was abruptly interrupted. Through the veil of his thoughts, he saw it: a ship, ancient and otherworldly, emerging like a phantom from the mist. It was a vessel that seemed to defy the laws of reality itself, a relic of another age. Its tattered sails fluttered against the still air, and the hull bore the scars of centuries lost to time. A ghastly green fog surrounded it, clinging to its frame like the specters of the damned. It was as though the Flying Dutchman itself had materialized before Gabriel.

 

The crew was no less horrifying. A host of skeletal figures moved about the deck, their empty eye sockets glowing with an unholy light. At their helm stood a figure clad in a weathered coat that bespoke authority and dread. This captain of death surveyed Gabriel with a gaze that pierced his very soul. The ship's insignia—a sigil of dread—felt hauntingly familiar, as though Gabriel had seen it somewhere before in the fragmented recesses of his memory.

 

The skeletal captain let out a bone-chilling laugh, the sound like the creaking of ancient timbers:

"Ahoy there, matey! I wouldn't advise venturing to that house. No man sails willingly into hell itself."

 

Gabriel, trembling and struggling to find his voice, stammered:

"What... what house are you speaking of? What is happening here? For God's sake, what are you?!"

 

One of the skeletons stepped forward, holding in its bony grasp a still-beating human heart. With a sickening crunch, it crushed the organ, tossing the remains toward Gabriel. The captain cackled once more, his voice reverberating like a funeral dirge:

"This is not advice, little man. It is a warning."