Chapter 13: When Assassins Fail but School Deadlines Don't
In the hospital, a young teen slowly stirred from his stupor. The first thing he saw was the pristine white ceiling above him and the steady beeping of nearby monitors. His head lolled to the side as he blinked, dazed and disoriented. A dull ache throbbed in his ribs, and his lips felt dry and cracked.
Beside him, his twin sister, Eve, was slumped in a chair, her hand wrapped tightly around his. Her usually neat ponytail was a mess, her hair tangled and clearly unwashed. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes—she hadn't slept much, if at all.
Elias lifted a hand, half-intending to reach out and smooth her hair, but froze as realization struck.
Wait— He suddenly sat upright. "How long have I been here?!"
The sudden motion yanked the needle from his arm, sending a sharp wave of pain through his body and startling Eve awake. Elias sucked in a breath, wincing as he tried to ride out the pain. Eve flinched and let out a sharp breath of her own as she quickly grabbed his shoulders.
"Elias, calm down! You're going to hurt yourself all over again," she scolded, frowning.
She hit the call button, and within moments, a nurse rushed in. After Eve's quick explanation, the nurse carefully reinserted the IV and assured them the doctor would arrive shortly.
Elias turned his eyes back to his sister, silently pressing for answers.
Seeing that look on his face, Eve's scowl softened. She wanted to be angry—really, she did—but he'd just been through something traumatic. She didn't want to make it worse.
"You've been out for about two days," she said softly. "You have no idea how scared I was. Our parents aren't here. Nolan's still away. I only have you, Elias. So please…" Her voice wavered. "Don't get hurt like this again."
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, a few tears slipping quietly down her cheeks.
Elias awkwardly patted her back. 'It's not like I wanted to get hurt, okay?' he muttered inwardly—but wisely kept that thought to himself.
"Sorry, Eve," he said instead. "You must be exhausted. You don't look so great."
Eve pushed away from their hug and puffed her cheeks in offense. "Elias! I'm not talking to you anymore! How dare you say that to the person who's been taking care of you?" she huffed, standing and grabbing a small bag of toiletries. "And for the record, you look way worse than I do right now."
She marched toward the bathroom, tossing a smug glance over her shoulder. "I'm showering in your bathroom. It's not like you need to get up and pee—you've got a catheter."
She stuck her tongue out at him before slamming the door shut.
Elias blinked, scratching his nose, speechless.
"…Wait. I have a private room?"
He looked around. There was no second bed, no curtain divider, and—yep—a bathroom. All to himself.
"How am I going to pay for this?" he muttered, dread beginning to creep into his chest.
"Don't worry about the hospital bill, Mr. Graves. It's already been taken care of," said a kindly older doctor as he stepped into the room, clipboard in hand. His voice was calm and reassuring, his smile warm but professional. Just behind him, Officer Clifford followed, nodding in quiet greeting.
The doctor ran a brief series of checks—light in the eyes, blood pressure, mobility tests—then straightened.
"You'll make a full recovery," he said. "You required a few stitches in your arm and the inside of your mouth. Plus, you've got some minor fractures in a couple of your ribs. I'll prescribe a short course of antibiotics and mild painkillers. If any symptoms worsen or you notice inflammation, contact the hospital immediately." He gave Elias a final nod before exiting the room.
Officer Clifford stepped forward as the door closed behind the doctor.
"Hey, kid. Glad to see you're awake," he said, his voice lighter than his uniformed posture. "Just to get it out of the way—yes, I'm the one who covered your room and the medical fees. Consider it a thank-you."
Elias blinked. "Thank you? For what?"
Clifford chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You helped my mother that day at the market. She was the last elderly lady you gave a hand to. She pointed you out to me—and thank God she did. If she hadn't pointed you out before I left the area, I might've missed you completely."
Elias's eyes widened as the memory surfaced. "The candy lady?"
"Yeah," Clifford smiled faintly. "That would be her."
"Please tell her thank you for me—and... thank you, too, sir. For saving my life."
Clifford waved a hand, brushing it off. "I was just doing my job." Then his expression shifted—his shoulders squared, his voice growing firm.
"Now, Mr. Graves, I need you to understand something: what you did was incredibly reckless. I don't care if you're a boy, girl, or built like a tank—entering isolated areas on your own or without notifying someone is asking for trouble. Isolated places like that are breeding grounds for criminal activity; it's dangerous for an adult, let alone a teenager. Still… I'm impressed you lasted as long as you did. You bought enough time for me to get there."
He reached into his coat, pulling out a notepad and pen. "If you're up for it, I'd like you to walk me through what happened—anything you remember. The more detail, the better."
Elias hesitated, his gaze dropping to his stitched-up arm.
"I thought I saw my dad," he said slowly. "That's why I followed him in. But it wasn't him. It was… some guy pretending to be him. A disguise. He led me to a quiet spot. That's when the second man showed up—the one who kept hurting me. The one you… shot."
Clifford frowned, pen paused mid-stroke. "So there were two of them. And one used a disguise… That changes things. Whoever they were, this wasn't random. They knew something about your family. Enough to manipulate you."
His jaw tightened. "We've been keeping an eye out for your parents, but it looks like someone was already watching you. That's on us. I'm sorry, Elias. We should've seen this coming."
Elias shook his head, his expression bitter. "It's okay. I should've realized something was off. Instead of following him like an idiot, I should've called you—or the police. I wasn't thinking."
Officer Clifford's gaze softened. He gave Elias a light pat on the shoulder.
"Emotions run high when family's involved. Missing your dad doesn't make you an idiot—it makes you human. But next time, try to stay grounded and think things through. Situational awareness can save your life."
He flipped back to a fresh page in his notepad. "Now, can you describe the second man for me?"
Elias furrowed his brow, trying to recall the details.
"He was tall… maybe six-two or six-four. Lean build. His face was kind of gender-ambiguous, like—pretty, but still masculine. Long, deep red hair. He didn't seem all that invested in the kidnapping. It felt like he was just hired help. The other guy—he was the real threat."
Clifford nodded, jotting the description down quickly. "I didn't see anyone like that at the scene. What happened to him?"
"He said he was going to get their car," Elias replied.
"Sounds like they planned to move you to another location. Did they say where?"
Elias shook his head. "No."
"Do you know what they were after? Did they say anything about why they targeted you?"
Elias hesitated—only for a moment—before answering, "They said they wanted information from me. But I don't know what kind of information they meant." It was a lie—but a necessary one. He didn't want to drag the kind Officer Clifford into a fight with the supernatural. He was also afraid of accidentally getting his father arrested. Most importantly, no one—absolutely no one—could learn about the system. Elias might've been only sixteen, but he understood that possessing something as unique and powerful as the system would inevitably attract greed. The fewer people who knew about it, the safer his secret—and the people he cared about—would be.
Clifford gave a brief hum, flipping back a page to check his notes. He didn't seem to notice the pause.
"Anything else you remember? Any names, phrases, anything unusual?"
Elias nodded slowly. "Yeah. Before he died, the guy you shot… he mentioned someone else. Called him 'the boss.' Said even if the boss killed him for it, he'd still kill me right there." His body trembled slightly at the memory—Jackal's foot on his throat, the cold barrel pressed to his temple, and the raw, murderous intent in his eyes.
Clifford's eyes narrowed slightly, and he stroked the side of his mustache in thought.
"Which means there's someone higher up. We're looking at an organized group here—maybe an entire network. That complicates things."
He tucked the notepad and pen back into his inner pocket and stood. "That's enough for now. I'll let you rest. But if anything else comes to mind, or if you remember something new, give me a call—or I'll check in again soon."
He gave Elias one last reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You did good, kid. Try to get some rest." Then he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
A moment later, Eve peeked her head out of the bathroom, her expression cautious. "Is it all done?" she asked, glancing around the room. She looked noticeably more refreshed than earlier.
"Yeah, you can come out of your cave now, little goblin," Elias said, rolling his eyes.
Eve rolled hers right back. "Please, you wish you knew a goblin as cute as me," she replied with mock arrogance.
"Now that you're awake, let me grab something from the hospital cafeteria for us to eat!" she said, picking up her pink wallet. "Do you have a preference?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Just get whatever," he replied, waving her off. She made a face at him, then marched out of the room and shut the door behind her.
Now that he was alone, Elias finally took the chance to look at the glowing system screen he'd been neglecting.
[Congratulations! Hidden Quest: (UR) Survive or Escape from Trained Assassin has been completed!]
[Rewards: +100 LP, +10 AGI, + Trait: (UR) Minor Pain Resistance]
[(UR) Minor Pain Resistance: Decreases host's sensitivity to pain by 15%]
"So even this counted as a hidden quest," he muttered bitterly. The rewards were good—but this wasn't the kind of quest he ever wanted to have again.
He turned his attention to the pain tolerance trait. Once he accepted the rewards, a subtle wave of relief washed over him as the pain dulled slightly.
"Well, it's not much… but better than nothing," he thought, leaning back into the bed to relax. But an itch in the back of his mind told him something was off.
Elias felt like he was forgetting something important. Suddenly, a memory surfaced—and his eyes flew open in alarm.
"Crap! I forgot about the history essay for the competition!"
He scrambled to find his phone. Fortunately, Eve had thoughtfully placed it on the table next to his bed. He snatched it up, opened a blank document, and began furiously typing.