Otto sat alone in his dimly lit study in the Cunningham residence. He spoke to the landline on his desk, his tone calm. "You can move now. Your men know what to do."

There was no response from the other end, but Otto knew someone was listening, someone waiting quietly for his command.

"This time, both of the Lloyd family's prodigies are on the move. Even Andrew went along. That means this is your perfect chance to wipe out both of them at once. I don't want to see another failure. If this turns out like last time, then do yourself a favor and cut off your own head."

He finished speaking as if talking to himself, then clasped his hands together and rested them on his knees. The faint light outlined every deep wrinkle on his aged face, making him look heavy, ruthless, and terrifying.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"It's you, Conrad? Come in," Otto said.

The door opened, and Conrad stepped inside in a crisp military uniform. He greeted, "Grandpa."

Otto nodded wit