Chapter 93: The Silent Plotter

The office hadn’t changed. The documents on Aldric’s desk were still arranged in several uneven stacks, and one of the curtains beside the window hung slightly lower than the other.

Under normal circumstances, Lorenzo would have noticed those details immediately.

He might even have felt compelled to correct them before continuing the conversation.

This time, however, he merely glanced at the curtain.

That’s a little uneven.

His eyebrows drew together.

For a moment, he considered straightening it.

Then he looked away.

Nothing happened.

He didn’t experience the familiar, overwhelming urge to fix it. The slight irritation remained, but it was faint enough to ignore.

Lorenzo slowly turned his head back toward the curtain.

It was still uneven.

He looked at it for another second before turning away again.

"...Oh."

His eyes widened.

It actually works.

The realization struck him with surprising force.

For as long as he could remember, the urge to correct imperfections had been an almost constant presence in his life. Even when he knew that something was unimportant, ignoring it could feel nearly impossible.

Now, for the first time in a long while, he could acknowledge an imperfection without feeling compelled to do anything about it.

It was a strange sensation.

Almost unnatural.

But it was wonderful.

Lorenzo looked at his father with newfound respect.

"Father, this might be the best gift you’ve ever given me."

"Then make good use of it."

"I will."

Aldric nodded before returning his attention to his documents.

For him, the matter was settled.

For Lorenzo, however, the implications were enormous.

With the Blood Eye, he could concentrate more effectively on his plans without being distracted by every minor imperfection he encountered.

He still needed to establish his own organization, recruit capable subordinates, and improve his strength.

He also needed to investigate the Dreamers and determine whether Zomboto Hiroshi’s involvement extended beyond his dealings with the organization.

And there was another matter he couldn’t afford to forget.

His bloodline.

Lorenzo’s expression gradually became more serious as he recalled the notification he had received earlier.

The Silent Plotter.

According to his status window, he needed to consume the inheritance of that mysterious individual to complete his bloodline.

Yet, despite his extensive knowledge of the game from his previous life, he had never encountered anyone known by that name.

He had considered the possibility that the Silent Plotter might be another name for the Shadow God, but he had no evidence to support that theory.

Even Aldric, who possessed the legacy of the Shadow God, might not know the answer.

There was only one way to find out.

Lorenzo raised his head.

"Father, there’s something else I wanted to ask you."

Aldric glanced at him.

"What is it?"

"Have you ever heard of someone called the Silent Plotter?"

For the first time that evening, Aldric’s composure faltered.

It lasted barely a second.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the fingers resting against the edge of his desk stopped moving.

It was a subtle reaction, one that most people might have overlooked.

But Lorenzo noticed.

He had spent enough time observing powerful people to recognize when someone was concealing a reaction.

And his father had definitely reacted to that name.

"...No, I don’t."

Lorenzo remained silent for a moment.

"But—"

"Son, it’s getting late."

Aldric interrupted him and glanced at the clock on his desk.

"You have academy tomorrow, don’t you? Go to bed."

Lorenzo stared at him.

His father had changed the subject far too quickly.

There’s something he’s not telling me.

He couldn’t be certain whether Aldric genuinely knew something about the Silent Plotter or whether the name had reminded him of something else.

But the timing was suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Nevertheless, Lorenzo decided not to press the matter.

Not yet.

If his father didn’t want to answer, forcing the issue would accomplish nothing. He would have to investigate the matter himself.

"Have a good night, Father."

Lorenzo bowed slightly before turning toward the door.

"Good night."

Aldric returned his attention to the documents.

Lorenzo opened the door, stepped outside, and closed it behind him.

His footsteps gradually faded down the corridor.

Only after he was certain his son had left did Aldric stop pretending to read.

For several seconds, he remained motionless behind his desk.

Then he slowly opened the drawer beside him.

Inside lay a photograph.

It showed a woman wearing a hospital gown, holding a little girl in her arms. Despite her pale complexion and the exhaustion visible on her face, she wore a radiant smile.

The little girl nestled against her chest, seemingly unaware of the worries weighing on the adults around her.

Aldric carefully picked up the photograph.

His expression softened.

The cold, imposing man who commanded the Riina Family was nowhere to be seen. In his place sat a husband looking at the woman he had lost, as though the years separating them might somehow disappear if he stared at her long enough.

He traced the edge of the photograph with his thumb.

Then he let out a quiet sigh.

"What should I do now, dear?"

His voice was barely above a whisper.

He looked at his wife’s smiling face, searching for an answer he knew she could no longer give him.

For all his power, for all the enemies he had crushed and all the problems he had resolved, there were still things Aldric Riina couldn’t control.

His son’s future was one of them.

And whatever the Silent Plotter represented, it was a name Aldric had desperately hoped would never become relevant to Lorenzo.

He lowered his eyes toward the photograph.

"I’m trying my best."

For a moment, he said nothing more.

Then he placed the photograph back inside the drawer, handling it with a care he rarely showed anything else.

He closed the drawer.

The office returned to silence.

But Aldric remained seated behind his desk long after the last page of his documents had been turned, his thoughts lingering on the woman who was no longer there to guide him.

And on the son he was still trying to protect.