Chapter 65: Mystiques

Chapter 65: Chapter 65: Mystiques"You were right, you know."

Richard didn’t turn around. Just let the words hang in the air.

"...About what?"

Mario exhaled. The sound came out ragged, tired. Like it hurt just to say it.

"I am tired."

Richard glanced back.

Mario was slumped forward in the chair now. Less defiant. Less hostile. Just... hollow.

"I don’t sleep much," Mario muttered. "Even before all this. Every night, it’s the same dreams. My little brother crying because he wants more rice. My mother skipping meals so we can eat. My dad—when he was still around—cursing the radio because all the politicians sound the same."

He didn’t look up. Just kept talking like the words had waited too long to come out.

"I didn’t become this because I hated the world. I just stopped believing it would change."

Silence.



Richard finally stepped closer, hands in his pockets.

"Do you want to be released?"

Mario blinked, startled.

"What?"

Richard shrugged. "I can give you support. Real support. New Identity. New face. Enough money for your family to live comfortably. If you cooperate, you will walk out of here with a second chance at life. Simple as that."

Mario gave a dry, bitter smile. "Doesn’t work like that. You don’t just walk away from this. If my colleagues find out I betrayed them, they won’t just kill me. They’ll find my family."

His eyes dropped.

"And they’ll make it slow."

Richard studied him. Quiet. Calm.

"I want you to end it," Mario said suddenly. "I will tell you everything. In one condition, you have to give money to my ma, I’ll give you her name, her contact number. Please tell her it was from me. From my savings. And that I died in a work accident."

A beat.

"I don’t want her to know her son died with blood on his hands."

He paused, breathing shaky.

"I know it’s selfish to ask."

Richard didn’t move. Then—unexpectedly—he smiled.

"Yeah, no. That’s not happening."

Mario blinked. "W-what?"

Richard leaned in slightly, eyes sharp. "I’m not in the business of mercy killings. And I don’t take orders from men tied to chairs."

Confusion flickered across Mario’s face. "Then... what?"

"You’re gonna have to work for me."

Mario stared like he misheard him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Richard crossed his arms, calm as ever. "I said you’re going to work for me. You’ll by me security detail. You’ll do the dirty job for me. I’ve got enemies. You’ve got experience. I call that a fair trade."

Mario shook his head quickly. "No—no, you don’t get it. If anyone sees me alive—"

"Then they won’t."

Richard gave him a smirk. Cold, calculating.

"You will disappear with a new name. A new face. I’ve got access to face-changing tech—skin mesh, vocal rework, full identity reset. You’ll be someone else. We’ll report your ’death’ officially. They’ll find a body in the woods, burn it, plant your watch and dental records. You’ll vanish."

He paused.

"But, you’re gonna have to lay low for a while."

Mario stared at him. Like Richard had just handed him something fragile and dangerous.

"You’re not serious."

"I don’t waste good resources," Richard said. "And you? You look like, you could do the work alone. I think you’ve got expertise and that’s valuable."

Mario swallowed. Still unsure. Still reeling.

"And what about my family, my mom...?"

Richard nodded once. "they’ll still get the money. You’re gonna talk to them and meet them eventually. When the time’s right."

For a long moment, Mario said nothing.

Then—

He broke.

Shoulders shook. Not from pain. Not fear. But from the weight of release. His face twisted, and he looked away, like he was ashamed of the tears that followed.

"...Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you. I—God, I don’t even know why you’re doing this."

Richard looked down at him, voice low.

"Because I’ve been where you are. Standing at the edge of the line. Wondering if this is all there is to our life. Full of regrets and pain. "

He walked to the door.

"And because the real enemy is still out there. And I’ll need someone who will do the dirty job for me. Someone with expertise in the matter."

He opened the door, paused.

"So are you in?"

Mario looked up.

Eyes red.

Voice steady.

"...Yeah. I’m in."

--------

The door clicked shut behind Richard.

Outside, the night had a bite. Dim warehouse lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows over crates and concrete. The air smelled like oil and incense.

Ronnie leaned against a steel beam, arms crossed. Jack stood a few feet off, hands in his pockets, rocking slightly on his heels, waiting.

Jack looked up first. "So, Did you do it? Is he dead?"

Richard gave a slow smirk. "It kinda went better than I expected."

Ronnie raised a brow. "Define ’better.’"



"I figured I’d hire him."

Both Ronnie and Jack blinked.

"You what?" Jack’s voice cracked halfway through the word.

Richard shrugged, casual. "I’m not in the habit of wasting a talent. He’s ours now."

Ronnie straightened, eyes narrowing. "The same guy that broke into the estate, killed two of the security staff, and walked out with the most important asset, that could’ve destabilize your new company"

Richard nodded, calm. "Well, it was predetermined anyway. If we had actually stopped them, we wouldn’t have no way of figuring who’s pulling the strings."

Jack blinked again. "Jesus, man."

"I know, I know, he’s done some things, he’s not supposed to," Richard said. "but, the guy’s running on rage, desperation, and well poverty. And frankly? I’ve seen worse ones."

Jack scoffed. "Yeah, but the guy, is closer to us and that’s not adding the fact that he can kill us anytime he wants."

Ronnie was still staring, arms still crossed. "You’re trusting a man who’ll stab you in the back, the moment you turn your back on him."

Richard turned to him. "No. I’m trusting a man who just gave me a reason to trust him. He’s given me information about his family. He and I know that the moment he’s gonna fuck up, you already know. Though I’m hoping it doesn’t end that way."

That shut them both up for a second.

"I offered him something better. A second chance. One he’ll protect with his life, because now he’s got everything to lose. Maybe he just wants to redeem himself."

Ronnie exhaled. "And you’re sure that’s enough? That he won’t flip the second someone waves more money at him?"

Richard looked at Jack. No smile this time.

"You know there is one thing that a man will protect with his life. Family. If you’ve given your most important treasure to someone. That means you’ve given your trust and trust to yourself, that you’re not mess up, a second time. "

Ronnie muttered, "Still a hell of a gamble."

Richard turned, walking past them both toward the warehouse stairs.

"We’re already playing high stakes, Uncle Ronnie. Might as well recruit some wild cards while we’re at it."

Jack followed behind. "He’s not gonna go berserk the second he finds out, you’re gonna use his family as collateral for his loyalty, Is he?"

"We’re gonna give him a good reason to be loyal, of course. We’re not total monsters But I say, we’re gonna give him a chance. He could’ve ended his life back there."

Ronnie sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine. I’ll get Leo and Manny to patch him up and feed him. They’re still gonna watch him up close. But when Boss Estello finds out you flipped one of the intruders..."

Richard stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"He’ll be pissed."

A pause.

Richard smiled again, eyes gleaming.

"He’ll understand what I my intentions."

----------

Two hours passed. The chants had faded, the air thick with residual energy. Candles now flickered low, some burned to stubs, others snuffed by the draft sweeping through the warehouse. The ritual was over.

Ronnie approached Estello and whispered something low.

Estello, eyes still closed, nodded once.

Ronnie broke away, heading toward the far corner of the warehouse where Richard and Jack leaned against stacked crates.

Estello followed behind at a slow pace.

"So," he said, hands behind his back. "I hear you hired our "guest"

Richard lifted an eyebrow. "I guess, I did."

"Of course you did. I expected something like that from you, anyway. You’ve always been a bit of a wild card."

Jack looked up from the floor. "You’re not mad, Grandpa?"

Estello let out a deep, amused laugh. "Why would I be, Jackie boy? You’re both grown men now. This isn’t about obedience, anymore. This is about learning. And sometimes? You learn best by doing."

He stepped closer.

"One thing I’ve learned over the years—when it comes to people, service is a two-way street. Treat a man like a tool, and he’ll break in your hand. Treat him like family? He’ll bleed for you. But even then... things don’t always go as expected."

Jack frowned, still unsure. Richard kept silent, listening.

Estello reached into the inside of his worn coat and pulled out two amulets, each hanging from a thin chain.

"They don’t look like much," he said, holding them out.

To Jack, they looked like old trinkets. Bronze, maybe. Dull. Scratched.

But Richard’s eyes widened. They shimmered to him—pulsing softly with an energy that wasn’t visible to the others.

Jack cocked his head. "Uh... what are these for?"

"Protection," Estello said.

He turned, and the two followed him outside.

The night air was heavier now, as if the ritual had stirred something beneath the soil. The wind carried the scent of burned herbs and earth.

The balete trees loomed at the edge of the village, their twisted branches forming silhouettes against the dark sky.

Estello stopped, staring into them.


"They live in there," he said.

Jack blinked. "Who?"

"Spirits. Not ghosts. Not demons. Just... beings. You can’t see them. Not yet. Maybe never. But they’re real and if you listen close enough, you can hear their voice and they watch over this place."

Richard didn’t speak, but his gaze followed Estello’s.

"The amulets I gave you," Estello continued, "they’re not forged in factories. They’re crafted. Rituals. Offerings. Materials gathered on moonless nights. The spirits recognize them. They’re drawn to them. And if you carry them with honest intentions—if you honor them—they’ll protect you."



Jack looked at the amulet in his palm like it was suddenly heavier.

"We’ll be coming back here regularly," Estello said. "Once a month, if not more. At least four times a year. It’s not a superstition—it’s more of a courtesy."

Richard spoke. "Because we’re being watched."

"You could say that, but it’s more of a communion, family. Like a social gathering. They like watching us, they’re intrigued by everything they don’t understand. "

Estello turned to them both.

"You’ve stepped into something bigger now. People will notice. Powers will stir. And not all of them are human. Once you open your eyes, you will see a wonders, much more than what you asked for."

He let that sink in.

Then added, softer: "Richie boy, you’ve got good instincts for people. You know how to find the ones with blood on their hands. Just remember... when they serve you, they become part of you. That’s a blade you better learn to hold the right way. Because if you don’t—"

"You’ll bleed," Jack finished quietly.

Estello smiled.

"The golden rule always apply everywhere. Just remember that."

The trees behind them rustled. But no wind blew.