Chapter 52: Relocation

Chapter 52 - 52: RelocationThe sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a dull gray light over the Purnas mansion. The sprawling estate was cordoned off with yellow police tape, its imposing gates lined with police officers, local journalists, and curious onlookers. The once serene mansion was now a crime scene, marred by bullet holes, shattered glass, and pools of blood dried on the marble floors.

Police cars were parked haphazardly around the property, their lights flashing like restless eyes. Reporters shouted questions from behind the gates, cameras flashing, microphones thrust forward, but the police held them back, stone-faced and silent.

Inside the staff house, Pedro lay stretched out on a makeshift cot, his shirtless chest revealing bruises and deep, dark welts where bullets had struck and fallen away. Beside him, two remaining security staff sat slumped in plastic chairs, their faces pale and drawn, eyes glassy from shock. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and dried blood.

A plainclothes detective stood over Pedro, notepad in hand. "Tell me again," he said, voice clipped. "You're saying they shot at you, point-blank, and none of the bullets penetrated?"

Pedro winced as a nurse dabbed disinfectant on his shoulder. "That's right," he said through gritted teeth. "They hit us, but..." He tapped the amulet hanging around his neck, its surface worn and polished from years of handling. "Didn't do shit."

The detective glanced down at the amulet, his jaw tightening. Whether he believed it was a talisman of protection or just a piece of folklore didn't matter — the fact remained that Pedro and his men were alive, while their attackers were not.

"You expect me to believe that?" the detective muttered, eyes narrowing.

Pedro's dark eyes met his, unwavering. "Believe what you want. We're still breathing. They're not."

Outside the Mansion – Main Entrance

A convoy of black SUVs pulled up to the gates, engines humming as they idled. The crowd of reporters surged forward, cameras flashing and microphones thrust forward.

"Don Estello! Is it true that the attackers were linked to Abu Sayyaf?""Mr. Purnas, do you suspect any political motivations for the attack?""Richard! Is the AI project still moving forward despite the attack?"



The police held the reporters back, forming a solid line as the SUV doors swung open.

Don Estello Purnas stepped out first, his cane hitting the gravel with a dull thud. His face was a mask of cold fury, the lines on his forehead deep and pronounced. Beside him, Richard Santamo emerged, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his dark slacks, his face expressionless. Jack Purnas followed, jaw clenched, eyes flicking to the mansion, the bullet-ridden walls, the shattered windows.

A senior police officer stepped forward, tipping his cap. "Sir, I'm Lieutenant Dela Cruz. I'm in charge of the investigation."

Estello's eyes bored into him, dark and unyielding. "What happened to my house?"

Dela Cruz grimaced. "Multiple fatalities, sir. Seven intruders confirmed dead. Four of them identified as known Abu Sayyaf operatives."

"And the other three?" Jack asked, his voice cool, measured.

Dela Cruz's expression hardened. "Two are foreign nationals. Americans. Still running their IDs. The last one... we're not sure yet."

Estello's grip tightened on his cane, his knuckles white. "My staff?"

Dela Cruz hesitated. "Pedro and two others are in the staff house. They're shaken up, but alive. We're interviewing them now. A fourth — John Mendoza — didn't make it."

Jack's jaw tensed, his gaze dropping momentarily to the ground. Richard, however, remained stone-faced, eyes fixed on the mansion as though he could still see the smoke rising from the night's carnage.


"What about the house?" Richard asked, his voice flat. "We need to assess the damage."

Dela Cruz shook his head. "Sorry, sir. The whole estate is a crime scene now. We're processing evidence. Could take weeks, maybe even months. Terrorist involvement means we're coordinating with federal agencies and possibly Interpol."

Estello's scowl deepened. "Weeks?"

"Or months," Dela Cruz repeated. "We can't release the property until we've collected everything. This isn't just a break-in. This is an international incident now."

Inside the SUV – Minutes Later

The doors slammed shut, cutting off the noise of the reporters and the murmuring crowd. The three men sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with tension.

Estello massaged his temple, eyes squeezed shut. "Those bastards," he muttered. "Weeks. Maybe months. The ByteBull HQ launch... the AI rollout... everything's on hold."

Jack leaned back against the seat, exhaling sharply. "It's not all bad," he said, voice low. "If the property's under investigation, they can't touch anything inside. And the longer it stays that way, the longer we have to reorganize. Lay low."

Estello shot him a glare. "Lay low? You're talking about our home, Jack. This isn't some corporate setback. This is our family."

Richard remained silent, staring out the window, eyes scanning the crime scene as they drove away. Yellow tape fluttered in the wind like silent flags of surrender.



Jack continued, unperturbed. "The stock prices will drop. That's inevitable. But it's also an opportunity. We can buy back shares at a discount. Once we're ready to relaunch the AI project, we'll control more of the company than ever."

Estello's glare softened, his brow furrowing. "And what about the AI itself?"

Richard's gaze remained fixed on the mansion, the charred walls, the bullet holes, the bloodstains.

"They got what they came for," Richard said, voice devoid of emotion. "Or at least, they think they did."

Jack's eyes flicked to his cousin, a glint of dark amusement in his expression. "You really went through with it?"

Richard met his gaze, his lips curling into a cold, predatory smile. "Let them think they've won."

Inside the SUV, the air hung heavy with exhaustion and lingering tension. The hum of the engine reverberated through the vehicle as it navigated the winding roads away from the mansion. Don Estello leaned back against the leather seat, his eyes dark and unfocused, the weight of the night pressing down on him.

He exhaled slowly, then turned to Richard, his voice gravelly."Where's your mother, Rich? Is she safe?"

Richard glanced out the window, fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh. "She texted last night. Said she's staying at some place called Gloria's house. I don't know who Gloria is, but... she's safe."

Estello nodded, a faint, wistful smile playing at his lips. "Gloria," he said, as though the name carried a weight of old memories. "Your mother's high school classmate. They were inseparable back then. Used to visit the house all the time when they were young."

Richard's brows furrowed. "I thought Mom didn't have many friends here."

"She had more than you think," Estello said, his eyes hardening. "After she married your father and moved to Laguna, she cut ties. But she's still well known in Marawi, even now. Let her stay where she wants. She needs this time."

Richard nodded, leaning back against the seat. His eyes remained fixed on the passing scenery, jaw tight.

Estello turned to Jack, who was scrolling through his phone, his expression grim. "Jack," Estello said, his voice firm. "Your father arrives tomorrow. Call him as soon as he lands. Let him know what happened. We'll be at the farm by then."

Jack's fingers paused over the screen. "Got it."

"Also," Estello continued, his shoulders slumping, "inform the rest of the board. I'm too tired to deal with them right now."

Jack nodded, tucking the phone back into his pocket. Estello ran a hand over his face, the lines deepening with fatigue. Then, he looked at both of them, his eyes sharp despite the exhaustion.

"What about your computers?" Estello asked. "The mansion is off-limits. How are you going to work?"

Richard opened his mouth to respond, a casual shrug forming, but Estello cut him off."Use my debit card," Estello said, voice clipped. "Buy new equipment. Whatever you need. We're staying at the farm, and I want to see what's going on there."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "You sure, Grandpa?"

"Yes," Estello said, signaling to the driver to move on. "There's too much heat here now. And besides... the farm needs more eyes on it."



The SUV pulled away, the mansion fading in the rearview mirror — a crime scene, swarming with police and forensic teams. Jack leaned over to Richard, lowering his voice."Dude, what about all that stuff underground?"

Richard scoffed, his eyes still on the road ahead. "Don't worry. We'll be back in three months anyway. The quantum servers are automatically maintained by the AMFs. Lina's still connected to everything."

Jack frowned. "But what if the police find the servers? Or worse, the AI cores?"

Richard's jaw clenched, his gaze darkening. "They won't. The underground facilities are masked by quantum encryption. They could blow the whole mansion apart, and they still wouldn't find them."

Jack exhaled, leaning back against the seat. "Alright, fine. But what about the delay? We have to announce something. ByteBull was supposed to launch 3 fucking days."

"Delay it by six months," Richard said, voice firm. "Announce that we need a full systems diagnostic. Damage assessments, structural integrity checks. Whatever sounds believable."

Jack rubbed his temple, eyes narrowed. "Alright. But six months? Really? That's a hell of a delay man. What about the clients? — they're going to want compensation for the delay."

"Give them one," Richard said, voice sharp. "Tell them we're rolling out a new AI core architecture update on launch as a 'consolation.' Make it sound like we're doing them a favor."

Jack's eyes widened. "We have a commercial update?"

Richard smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes. "We will. We'll tweak the commercial AI models, give them a minor performance boost, and slap a fancy name on it. Call it 'Version 2.0' or whatever. Lina will handle the PR."

Jack shook his head, a slow grin forming. "Man, you're a snake."

"Survival is a snake's game," Richard said, eyes cold. "And we're surrounded by vipers."