Free Web NovelChapter 111: The Past Still Haunts
A black luxury car moved silently through the city streets.
The weather was gloomy. Dark clouds drifted overhead. The atmosphere felt heavy.
Inside the vehicle sat a man in an expensive suit. His face was fully visible. He appeared to be in his late sixties. Neatly combed gray hair rested above a sharp, calculating face. A well-trimmed mustache added to his dignified appearance.
To ordinary people, he looked like a respectable businessman.
A successful elder, a man of status. Yet behind those calm eyes hid something much darker.
The man looked out the window. The city passed by slowly. Pedestrians walked along the sidewalks. Vehicles moved through intersections. Everything appeared normal.
But the man’s thoughts were elsewhere. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest.
The driver glanced through the rear-view mirror. "Sir."
The man shifted his gaze. "How much longer?"
The driver immediately answered. "A few minutes, sir."
The man nodded. His attention returned to the window.
Soon the car entered a quieter district. The buildings became more isolated. Security fences appeared. Watchtowers, armed guards.
Then...A massive prison came into view.
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly. For a moment, a rare emotion surfaced. It was the feeling of pain. Not for himself but for someone else.
The prison walls stretched high into the sky.
The man stared at them silently. Then spoke under his breath. "He is still suffering because of them." His voice carried years of bitterness. Years of resentment and years of hatred.
The driver remained silent. He knew better than to respond.
Several minutes later, the car stopped.
The driver immediately stepped out and opened the door. The gray-haired man exited.
Several guards greeted him. "Good afternoon, sir."
He simply nodded. His influence ensured he received special treatment. After completing several security procedures, he was escorted deeper into the facility.
Metal doors opened one after another. Each door closed heavily behind him.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
The sounds echoed through the prison corridors. Eventually, they arrived at a visitation room.
A thick sheet of reinforced glass divided the room in half. A telephone sat on each side.
The officer turned toward him. "The prisoner will arrive shortly."
The man nodded. He sat down calmly. Then he waited.
A minute passed. Then another.
Soon footsteps echoed from the corridor beyond the glass.
The man’s expression remained calm. Yet his eyes sharpened.
The prisoner appeared. A man in his early forties. His prison uniform looked worn. His hair had become messy. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes. Years of imprisonment had clearly affected him.
The prisoner entered slowly. At first, he didn’t notice who was waiting. Then he looked up. His eyes widened instantly. "Father!"
The prisoner’s voice carried excitement, relief and desperation.
The gray-haired man picked up the telephone.
On the opposite side, the prisoner quickly did the same.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Eight years. Eight long years. That amount of time changed people.
Finally, the prisoner broke the silence. "Father...When am I getting out?"
His voice sounded almost childlike, filled with hope.
The older man remained composed. "Patience, son."
The prisoner’s expression immediately darkened. "Patience? I’ve been patient for eight years." His hand tightened around the receiver. "Eight years, father."
The older man said nothing.
The prisoner stood up briefly before sitting back down. His breathing became heavier. "You know what they took from me?" His voice trembled. "My future, my career, my reputation and my life." His fist struck the table.
The guard outside glanced toward the room.
The prisoner lowered his voice. But his anger remained obvious. "I should never have been here."
The older man’s eyes remained fixed on him. "Calm yourself."
The prisoner laughed bitterly. "Calm? How can I calm down?"
His eyes burned with hatred. "It was because of them."
The gray-haired man remained silent.
The prisoner continued. "That little boy and girl. They destroyed everything."
The older man’s gaze hardened. He knew exactly who his son meant. It was Aiden and Toma.
Eight years ago, events had unfolded differently.
An investigation, a criminal case, human trafficking, witnesses, evidence and a court ruling. The result had sent his son behind bars.
Since that day, resentment had only grown.
The prisoner leaned closer to the glass. "Do they even remember me?" His voice sounded hollow. "I spent eight years in this place. They probably moved on with their lives."
The older man’s expression remained cold. "Perhaps."
The prisoner’s eyes narrowed. "But I haven’t."
The gray-haired man slowly adjusted his tie. Then spoke calmly. "They will remember."
The prisoner looked up.
A dangerous smile appeared on the older man’s face. "They will remember very soon."
The prisoner’s breathing slowed. Hope returned to his eyes. "Father..."
The older man continued. "I have spent years preparing."
The prisoner’s eyes widened. "Years?"
The older man nodded. "I didn’t forget. I didn’t forgive." His voice remained calm. But beneath that calmness lurked something terrifying. The hatred of a father who believed his son had been wronged.
The prisoner gripped the receiver tighter. "Then why wait so long?"
The older man’s eyes narrowed. "Because revenge requires patience."
The prisoner listened carefully.
"Kuruda was useful." The older man continued. "He helped create opportunities. He opened doors. He gathered resources."
The prisoner’s expression darkened. "Kuruda failed. I saw the news this morning."
The older man’s face became emotionless. "Yes..He failed." For a brief moment, disappointment flashed across his face. Then it vanished. "But his failure changes nothing."
The prisoner slowly gave a cruel smile.
The older man leaned slightly forward. "Listen carefully."
The prisoner’s eyes remained fixed on him.
The older man’s voice dropped lower. "I will destroy them."
The prisoner remained silent.
"I will take away everything they value." The older man continued. "Their reputation, their careers, their future, their hope." Every word sounded deliberate and calculated.
The prisoner’s smile grew wider.
The older man looked directly into his eyes. "For what they did to you." His voice became colder. "I will dig their graves in front of our house."
The prisoner shivered slightly. Not from fear but from satisfaction.
The older man’s eyes remained completely serious. "Then I will make them watch."
The prisoner gave a dark and broken laugh. The laugh of a man who had spent eight years feeding his hatred. "Good."
The older man slowly nodded. "Just wait a little longer."
The prisoner’s breathing became steadier. For the first time in years, genuine hope appeared on his face. "Will I finally get my revenge?"
The older man’s answer came immediately. "Yes."
The prisoner gave a terrifying smile.
The older man stood up. The visitation period was ending. The guards had already begun approaching.
The prisoner quickly rose from his seat. "Father."
The older man paused. "I won’t disappoint you." The older man looked at him through the glass. For a moment, something resembling affection appeared in his eyes. Then it vanished. "I know."
The prisoner slowly lowered the receiver. The older man did the same. Neither spoke another word.
The guards escorted the prisoner away. As he disappeared into the corridor, he turned one final time. A smile remained on his face.
The older man watched silently. Then he turned around and left.
The metal doors echoed behind him.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
Eventually, he exited the prison.
The cold wind greeted him outside. The driver immediately opened the car door.
The older man entered. The vehicle began moving once again.
For several minutes, silence filled the car. Then the driver cautiously spoke. "Sir, the meeting went well?"
The older man looked forward. The older man stared through the windshield. The prison slowly disappeared behind them. His voice remained calm. "Everything is proceeding as planned."
The driver nodded. No further questions were asked.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of the city....
Nobody, Aiden and Toma were completely unaware.
None of them knew that an enemy far more patient than Kuruda had finally decided to move. And unlike Kuruda this man wasn’t acting for money. He wasn’t acting for power. He wasn’t acting for greed. He was acting for something much more dangerous. Which was his hatred.
The kind of hatred that had been growing for eight long years.
And now...That hatred had finally found its chance to strike.
On the other hand, Toma suddenly froze. The spoon in her hand stopped moving. Her eyes lost focus. The restaurant around her slowly faded away.
Voices became distant.
Then.... different scene appeared in her mind.
A dark street. A much younger Toma running desperately. She looked no older than ten years old. She wore a school uniform. Her small shoes splashed through puddles as tears streamed down her face.
Behind her, several men were chasing her through the narrow streets. "Catch her! Don’t let her escape!"
"She’s heading that way!" The voices echoed through the darkness.
Young Toma looked back. The men were getting closer. Fear filled every part of her body. She pushed herself harder. Her legs hurt. Her lungs burned. But she kept running. "Leave me alone! Please! Just leave me!" Tears blurred her vision.
She stumbled and almost fell. Then forced herself back up.
The footsteps behind her grew louder.
Closer.
Closer.
One of the men shouted: "There she is!"
Young Toma let out a frightened scream and turned another corner. Everything around her became distorted. The memory itself felt incomplete. Like fragments of a nightmare she had buried long ago.
Then....
A distant voice called her name. "Toma."
The memory trembled.
"Toma!"
The scene cracked apart.
"Toma!"
She suddenly snapped back to reality. The restaurant reappeared around her.
The warm lights, the customers, the smell of food. Everything returned at once.
Toma blinked repeatedly. Her breathing had become uneven.
Across the table, Nobody was staring at her. His expression was unusually serious. "What happened?"
Toma looked around in confusion. A few nearby customers were glancing toward them. Only then did she realize her hands were shaking.
Nobody leaned forward slightly. "You suddenly started shouting."
Toma touched her forehead. It felt cold. "I..." She hesitated. "I don’t know."
Nobody narrowed his eyes. Normally he would have made a joke. But something about her expression stopped him.
Toma looked genuinely frightened. As if she had seen a ghost.
Nobody quietly asked, "Did you remember something?"
Toma looked down. Fragments of the memory still lingered. The running, the men chasing her and the fear. Yet she couldn’t fully grasp it. It was like trying to hold water in her hands. The harder she tried, the faster it slipped away.
"I think..." She swallowed. "I think I remembered something from when I was little."
Nobody immediately became more attentive.
Before he could ask another question, a system notification appeared before him.
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[Analysis Complete]
[Toma Is Recalling Suppressed Past Events]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Nobody’s eyes widened slightly.
Another message appeared.
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[Memory Recovery Process Initiated]
[Unknown Trigger Detected]
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Nobody looked back at Toma. She was still trembling slightly. Whatever she had remembered...it wasn’t a normal childhood memory. And for some reason,
Nobody had a feeling this wasn’t a coincidence.
