Chapter 101: SECRETS BENEATH THE SCHOOL

Kai sat on the wooden chair in the corner of the room—with his back against the wall, with his hands on his lap, with his eyes staring at the operating room door. The room was silent—only the sound of the oil lamp hissing softly—hfff—and the sound of water dripping from the ceiling—tess... tess...—falling into a bucket already prepared in the corner. He had been sitting there for—he didn’t know. One hour? Two hours? Time felt strange in that underground room—no windows, no sunlight, no markers of any kind except the clock on the wall that moved too slowly.

He stared at his hands. Blood had dried on his knuckles—reddish-brown, cracked between the skin—and there were a few new scratches on his left arm, from glass shards or wood splinters he hadn’t managed to avoid. He didn’t remember when he got them. Maybe when he charged at Roky. Maybe when he passed through the exit. Maybe—

Creeeak.

The operating room door opened. Kai immediately lifted his head—and he saw Reina standing at the threshold, with a white apron already stained with blood—not her own blood—and with hands still wet from antiseptic. Her face—her face looked tired. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were deeper than he remembered, and a few strands of hair clung to her forehead from sweat.

Kai stood up. "How is he?"

Reina let out a breath—slowly, with shoulders slightly slumped. "He’s going to be fine," she said. "I’ve cleaned and stitched his gunshot wound. No vital organs were hit—the bullet passed through the side of his body, didn’t penetrate anything important." She paused for a moment, wiping her hands with a cloth whose original color was no longer clear. "But he lost a lot of blood. I’ve set up an IV for transfusion. He needs rest—at least two days—before he can move."

Kai nodded slowly. He felt something loosen in his chest—something he had been holding back for a long time. "Thank you, Reina."

Reina smiled faintly—a tired smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "Don’t thank me yet. He’s not fully recovered." She walked to the chair beside Kai and sat down—with her back against the wall, with her hands on her lap. "Now—" she turned to Kai, "—tell me what actually happened."

Kai looked at her—for a long time. Then he sat back down—slowly, carefully—and he stared at the floor. "I don’t fully understand it myself," he said. "I was at school—during break—then I got a call from Leonhard. He said his base was under attack. I went there—and when I arrived, everything was already in chaos."

Reina nodded—slowly, with eyes not blinking.

"Those people—" Kai paused for a moment, searching for the right word, "—they came with full weapons. Trained. Not street thugs. They surrounded the base from every direction—front, back, underground. And the one leading them—" he turned to Reina, "—a man named Roky."

Reina furrowed her brow. "Roky?"

"You know him?"

Reina shook her head slowly. "No. But the name—" she stopped, like she was remembering something, "—I’ve heard that name before. At a meeting. A few months ago. He’s one of the people who pushed for Phoenix Academy to be taken over by the government."

Kai looked at her. "So you knew about that plan?"

"I knew." Reina leaned her back against the wall—deeper now, like she was preparing for a long story. "Leonhard had already told me. About that meeting. About their demand for this school to become a public school—fully managed by the state." She looked at Kai. "But you said they attacked Leonhard’s base. Not the school. Why?"

Kai shook his head slowly. "I don’t know. I thought—" he paused for a moment, "—I thought they wanted to take something. Not just the school. Something that’s in the school."

Reina looked at him—for a long time. Then she let out a breath—slowly, long, like someone who had been keeping a secret for too long. "You’re right," she said. "They want something. Not the school—the school is just a fortress. What they want—" she stopped again, "—is what’s beneath that school."

Kai looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Reina didn’t answer right away. She stood from her chair—slowly, with hands still slightly trembling—and she walked to the wooden table in the corner of the room. She opened the drawer—creeeak—and she took out a folded piece of paper. That paper—that paper looked old. Its edges had yellowed, with several deep folds, with several stains he couldn’t identify. Reina brought it back to the chair and unfolded it on her lap.

"Before this school was founded," Reina said—her voice soft, like she was telling a fairy tale, "—before Leonhard bought this land—there was once a war here. Not a war as we know it. A war between two tribes—the Antasia tribe and the Dernia tribe. They fought for years. For years, Kai. Over just one thing."

She pointed to the paper on her lap—to a faded drawing, to a circle drawn by hand, to writing barely legible. "This land," she said. "The land that is now Phoenix Academy. The land beneath which—" she paused for a moment, "—there is a stone."

Kai furrowed his brow. "A stone?"

"The Crimson Stone," Reina said. "A stone that—" she stopped again, searching for the right word, "—a stone that can store energy. Without limit. Without depletion. Like an eternal battery. The Antasia tribe and the Dernia tribe believed that whoever possessed that stone would possess power that couldn’t be defeated. So they fought. For years. Until this land turned red with blood."

Kai looked at Reina—for a long time. "And Leonhard knew about that stone?"

Reina nodded. "He knew. After that tribal war ended—after both tribes disappeared, to wherever—Leonhard came here. He saw this land—empty land, land owned by no one—and he knew that the stone was still beneath it. Still buried. Still waiting." She looked at Kai. "He didn’t want that stone to fall into the wrong hands. So he made a plan. With me."

"What plan?"

"We built a school," Reina said. "On top of that land. On top of that stone. A school—a school that would be the first fortress. If anyone wanted to take that stone—they would have to pass through that school first. Pass through those students. Pass through us."

Kai looked at her—for a long time. Then he looked at the paper on Reina’s lap—at the circle drawn by hand, at the writing barely legible. "Where is the stone?"

Reina pointed to the circle on that paper. "Here," she said. "We suspect that the stone is here—beneath the school field. But we never dug. We never confirmed. Because if we dug—if we searched—others would know. And we didn’t want that to happen."

Kai nodded slowly. "So they attacked Leonhard—"

"Because they want to know where the stone is," Reina cut in. "Information about the stone’s location—information about the stone’s existence—has leaked. Somehow. From someone. But they know. And they want Leonhard to tell them exactly where it is."

Kai looked at Reina—for a long time. "But you said no one knows the exact location."

Reina smiled faintly—a bitter smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "No one knows," she said. "But they don’t need to know the exact location. They just need to suspect. They just need—" she paused for a moment, "—they just need to pressure Leonhard until he tells them."

Kai noded slowly. He looked at the paper on Reina’s lap—at the circle drawn by hand—and he felt something cold in his chest. "Do you know who leaked that information?"

Reina shook her head. "I don’t know. Leonhard doesn’t know. No one knows." She folded the paper back—slowly, carefully—and she put it in her pocket. "But we have to be alert. If they already know about the stone—if they’ve already tried to take it—they won’t stop. They’ll try again. And again. Until they get what they want."

Kai didn’t say anything. He just sat there—with his hands on his lap, with his eyes staring at the floor—and he let those words sink in.

Reina stood from her chair—slowly, with hands still slightly trembling. "I have to check on Leonhard again," she said. "See if his transfusion is going well."

Kai nodded. "May I ask you something?"

Reina stopped. "What?"

"Do you know about Viel?"

Reina froze. She looked at Kai—for a long time, with wide eyes, with a face that suddenly turned pale. "What?"

"Viel," Kai repeated. "Do you know who that is?"

Reina didn’t answer right away. She just stood there—with her hand still holding her apron, with eyes not blinking—and for a few moments, no one spoke. Only the sound of the oil lamp hissing softly—hfff—and the sound of water dripping from the ceiling—tess... tess...

"I... I don’t know," Reina finally said. Her voice was soft—almost a whisper. "This is the first time I’ve heard that name."

Kai looked at her—for a long time. Then he nodded slowly. "Alright."

Reina looked at him for a moment—like she wanted to say something, but didn’t. Then she turned and walked to the operating room—creeeak—and the door closed behind her.

Kai sat alone in his chair. He stared at the operating room door—for a long time—and he felt something stuck in his chest. Reina was lying. He knew it. He could see it in the woman’s eyes—in the way she froze, in the way she avoided the question. But Kai didn’t push. Not now. Not here.

He stood from his chair—slowly—and he walked to the exit of the underground room. He pushed that door—creeeak—and he climbed the stairs—one by one, with a hand feeling the wall, with feet already trained. He reached the top—on the small hill behind Leonhard’s base—and he breathed in the morning air. Whoosh... The wind blew softly—carrying the scent of wet grass and earth—and Kai could feel something warm on his face. The sun had already risen—with a bright blue sky—and for a moment, Kai let himself enjoy that peace.

Then he turned—and he walked toward the room where he had once trained. That room—that room was still there. On the other side of the base—hidden behind trees—with a worn wooden door, with a shattered window, with a roof that had collapsed in places. Kai pushed that door—creeeak—and he entered.

The room was dusty. Very dusty. Dust covered everything—floor, table, chairs, cabinet—and Kai could see his own footprints on the floor as he stepped inside. He walked to the cabinet in the corner of the room—with its crooked door, with its rusted hinges—and he opened it. Creeeak. Inside—inside were some clothes. Old clothes. Clothes he had left behind years ago.

He reached into it—slowly, carefully—and he felt something different among those fabrics. Something thicker. Heavier. He pulled it out—and he saw it. A jacket. A black jacket—with thick material, with neat stitching, with several scratches on the sleeve. A jacket he recognized.

He stared at it—for a long time. Then he smiled faintly—a weak smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. He remembered. This was the jacket Leonhard had given him—years ago—on his birthday. At that time—at that time this jacket was too big for him. Too long in the sleeves. Too wide at the shoulders. He was disappointed—he thought Leonhard didn’t know his body size—but Leonhard just smiled and said, "Someday you’ll wear this jacket."

Kai stared at that jacket—for a long time. Then he put it on—slowly, carefully. That jacket—that jacket fit. Fitted his shoulders. Fitted his arms. Just as Leonhard had said.

He stood there for a moment—with that jacket, with dust on his face, with blood still drying on his hands—and he felt something strange in his chest. Something like—memory. Something like—home.

He turned and walked out of that room—creeeak—and he closed its door. He walked along the trail—past the trees, past the stones, past the small river—and he reached the main road. He stopped a taxi—with his hand raised—and he got in. "To my apartment," he said—and the taxi drove off.