Chapter 60 Phantoms! 1
Emilia stepped forward, her posture composed and professional, ready to deliver what he sought. "This is…" she began, gesturing toward the two women standing by her side. "Lizzie and Suzie. I hired two instead of one, as per your request. Lizzie will serve as your secretary, and Suzie will act as your second assistant in my absence."
The two women, dressed impeccably, bowed respectfully before Pyris, acknowledging his authority. Both were aware of the privilege—and the burden—of working so closely with him. They remained still, waiting for his reaction, their expressions carefully controlled.
They would be sharing the same huge office space with Pyris now as his very close surbodianates.
Pyris gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable as he studied them briefly. For now, they would do. Emilia escorted them out of the office, leaving Pyris alone, save for the enigmatic bodyguard who had been a silent presence at his side.
Once the others had left, Pyris turned his attention to the mysterious bodyguard, his curiosity gnawing at him. The man had remained an enigma from the moment Pyris had met him, his power shrouded in secrecy.
Pyris had tried to assess him, to appraise his abilities with his system, but nothing had worked. No amount of scrutiny had revealed the truth about him.
Now, in the quiet of the office, Pyris couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer.
"Who are you?" Pyris asked, his voice calm but charged with authority. The question lingered in the air, as heavy as the ambitions Pyris carried within him.
The bodyguard didn't flinch. His expression remained impassive, his eyes unreadable.
Pyris's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the man before him. Now that he truly considered it, the man's features bore a striking resemblance to the people of Earth, particularly from South Korea.
His short black hair, sleek and meticulously styled, framed a face that could easily belong on a high-fashion runway. His strange dark eyes were unnerving, unlike anything Pyris had seen before, adding to the man's enigmatic presence.
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His build was lean but perfectly balanced, like a coiled spring—an embodiment of power concealed beneath a deceptively calm exterior.
He was, in every sense, an ideal specimen.
There was something about him that reminded Pyris of a Korean actor—one of his favorites, though he couldn't quite place the name at the moment. As his mind wandered, attempting to recall the actor's name, the man bowed deeply, his posture radiating a mixture of respect and submission.
"I am Song," he began, his voice steady and resonant, a reflection of the immense power he clearly possessed. "Your personal guard. The mistress assigned me to your security detail."
'Same sir name huh?' he mused in his head, not only the face but the name was the same with that guy too, he couldn't help smiling.
Though...
Pyris rolled his eyes, though he knew that the question he wanted to ask would yield little information. Still, it didn't hurt to try. At least it gave him a starting point. Humming softly, Pyris studied Song more closely.
The room was bathed in the soft glow of the office lights, and the numerous screens mounted on the walls only added to the surreal atmosphere of their exchange.
Determined to uncover the mystery that shrouded Song, Pyris's tone shifted dramatically. The calm indifference drained from his voice, replaced by a grave seriousness that cut through the air like a blade.
"That's exactly what doesn't make sense," Pyris spat, his voice a low growl. "Do you take me for a fool, Song? I can feel the power within you—power that far exceeds my own. And at such a young age?"
Pyris paced back and forth, each step filled with simmering frustration as his eyes raked over the guard. There was something deeply unsettling about the contradictions Song presented.
Song, for his part, remained utterly still, rooted to the ground as if carved from stone. His expression betrayed nothing, and his thoughts were a realm beyond Pyris's grasp.
At the mention of his age, Song's eyebrow twitched ever so slightly, though Pyris missed the subtle reaction entirely. But the unease in the air was palpable.
"You possess talent, Song, although I can't quite fathom the extent of it," Pyris continued, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"With the power you hold, you could easily be one of the strongest in your generation. You could have a future that stretches far beyond being a mere guard—privileges and status that would elevate you above commoners. Yet here you stand, guarding me. Why? What is this to you? And more importantly, who is my mother to you, that you would so willingly cast aside such a future to serve her son?"
The accusation hung in the air, a tangible thing. Pyris's suspicion was evident, and given the severity of the current situation, he wouldn't be wrong to suspect Song of something more sinister—perhaps even of being a spy.
In this world, treason was dealt with swiftly and without mercy. And Pyris knew better than anyone how merciless his mother, Emberly, could be when it came to threats against House Obsidian.
Song, however, remained calm, though Pyris could sense the weight of the words pressing down on him. With no clear path to counter the barrage of questions, and with Pyris's suspicion only growing, Song knew he had to respond.
"Mistress…" Song began, his voice soft but filled with unshakable loyalty. There was a depth of gratitude in his tone that Pyris could not ignore. "Mistress Emberly is our benefactor, the one to whom we owe everything. We have sworn an oath of loyalty to her—an oath we would never betray. The young lord has no need to be wary of me. I am no spy, nor do I harbor any intention of becoming one.
My loyalty to House Obsidian is absolute."
Song bowed deeply, his reverence unmistakable.
Yet instead of feeling reassured by Song's explanation, Pyris's curiosity only deepened. There was no doubting the truth in Song's words, but they raised more questions than they answered.
And while Pyris dared not question his mother's motives, the revelation that Song wasn't the only one bound by this mysterious oath intrigued him. The way Song had said "we" suggested a larger group—an allegiance far deeper than Pyris had first imagined.
"Benefactor, you say?" Pyris's voice was now laced with intrigue, his suspicion giving way to a burning curiosity. "Who else is bound to this oath? You spoke of 'we'—who are they? And how did my mother become such an important figure in your lives, to the point that you would give up everything to serve her?"
His final question hung in the air, thick with implications, as Pyris's gaze bore into Song, seeking to unravel a mystery even immortals would hesitate to touch.