Demanded Action

Chapter 69 - Demanded Action

Mike pushed his chair back and stood. He shook the doctor's hand, keeping his expression calm despite everything he had learned.

“Thank you for your time.”

As their hands separated, Mike quietly switched off the Persuasion skill that had helped keep the conversation relaxed. The moment it disappeared, the weight of the doctor's words returned. He had come looking for answers and somehow left with even more questions.

“I hope you find what you're looking for,” the doctor said.

Mike nodded and left the office.

He walked through the quiet corridor, passing nurses and patients without drawing attention. When he reached Clark's room, he stopped and looked through the glass one last time. Clark sat upright with a food tray in front of him, laughing with a nurse as he ate.

Mike watched for a moment before continuing.

Outside, the afternoon air was warmer. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and let his thoughts settle. The doctor's story had confirmed what he already suspected: the liquid Claire had used on Clark was almost certainly a healing potion.

Mike knew because he had used one himself before the Amateur Cup. He had poured it over his injured hand and watched the pain disappear.

Now Claire had one too.

She had taken it to the hospital, poured it over her unconscious brother, and the next morning Clark had opened his eyes.

The timing was impossible to ignore.

Mike continued walking, his thoughts turning toward his system. Its strange behavior had started after the Amateur Cup, and he had initially assumed his victory had triggered some kind of malfunction.

But if Claire had access to a healing potion, there were only two possibilities. Someone with a system had given it to her, or Claire had a system of her own.

If the second possibility was true, she might be directly connected to the problems with his system.

Mike opened his mental map.

The marker on Mia was still glowing inside the dorm. Claire's marker remained in its place as well.

Mike changed direction and headed toward Sam's apartment building. He reached the area before the afternoon traffic became heavy and settled onto a low concrete wall across from the entrance.

He waited.

Five minutes became ten, then thirty. People came and went, but Sam never appeared.

The sun had begun to sink when the entrance finally opened. Sam stepped outside.

Mike checked his phone and it was almost five.

Sam wore gray joggers and running shoes. After looking briefly down the street, he started walking.

Mike waited several seconds before following.

He kept his distance, using parked cars and pedestrians to stay out of Sam's view. Whenever Sam slowed or looked back, Mike adjusted his pace and pretended to be interested in a shop window.

At first, Sam seemed to be heading toward the running path near the river.

Then he suddenly turned onto another street. Mike followed.

The new route led into the old warehouse district, where many of the properties belonged to companies connected to Sam's father. Most were rarely used, and several had been abandoned for years.

Sam continued deeper into the district.

The streets grew quieter until almost all traffic disappeared. Finally, he stopped in front of a warehouse that looked newer than the others. Its roof had been recently repaired, and the heavy metal entrance carried no company name or sign. There were no guards, workers, or vehicles nearby.

Sam looked around before taking a key from his pocket.

He unlocked the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.

Mike waited several minutes before moving.

He walked around the side of the building and found a narrow window set low in the wall. The glass was dirty, but he could still see through it.

Mike crouched beneath the window.

The warehouse was dim, with weak lights hanging from the ceiling and large sections hidden in shadow. Equipment and furniture had been pushed against the walls.

Then he heard voices.

Mike froze.

A woman's frightened voice came from somewhere inside, followed by a man's voice he recognized immediately.

Sam.

Mike moved closer to the glass.The woman cried out again.

Whatever was happening inside, she clearly didn't want to be there. Mike shifted until he could see more of the room.

Sam was standing over a woman who was desperately trying to protect herself.

Mike's stomach tightened.

He had followed Sam expecting to uncover another piece of the mystery. He had suspected drugs, illegal dealings, or some connection to the people watching him.

He had not expected this. Another cry came from inside.

Mike flinched, grabbing the wall as his knees weakened. His first instinct was to rush through the door, but he stopped himself. He didn't know how many people were inside, and charging in blindly could make things worse.

Tears filled his eyes as he looked through the window again.

The woman was still crying. Sam was still there.

And suddenly, the bruises on Claire's face made sense.

Mike had spent the entire day chasing answers about Clark, the healing potion, and his system. He had believed Claire was at the center of everything, and perhaps she still was.

But now he understood something else. Sam wasn't simply angry because of Claire.

Something was deeply wrong with him.

Mike slowly lowered himself against the wall until he was sitting on the concrete. Tears ran down his face as he stared through the window, unable to look away from what was happening inside.

For the first time since everything had begun, Mike felt completely helpless.

He had come looking for answers. Instead, he had found something that demanded action.

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