Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 71: Three Shadows, One Prey

Inside the Federation Police building, the atmosphere was stiff and oppressive, as though the walls themselves carried the weight of countless unspoken crimes.

Elric sat behind his polished wooden desk, one leg crossed over the other, calmly reading the latest intelligence report laid open before him.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Hmm?" he murmured softly. "Now that he’s fallen into the Ghost Scream’s hands, it’s only a matter of time before he’s delivered straight to me."

His voice carried a trace of amusement, as if he were discussing a foregone conclusion rather than the fate of a living person.

Standing rigidly across from him was a young Federation police officer. Sweat beaded along the man’s temple, his back stiff as he struggled to maintain composure.

"C–Captain," the officer began hesitantly, his voice trembling despite his effort to steady it. "Are... are we not going to send our men to bring him in?"

Elric slowly lifted his gaze from the report and regarded the young officer with cold, unreadable eyes.

"Why should we?" he asked flatly.

The officer swallowed hard. "Sir, that’s not—"

"Enough." Elric raised a hand, cutting him off sharply.

The abruptness of the command sent a visible shiver through the young man.

"I’ve already instructed the Ghost Scream boss not to go overboard," Elric said calmly, his tone carrying the quiet authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

"This will serve as a lesson to anyone foolish enough to follow in his footsteps. No one goes against the Federation and walks away unscathed."

His gaze sharpened as it bore into the officer.

"Let them see what happens when they challenge us."

The room fell silent.

Elric leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together as he spoke again, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Dismissed."

The young officer opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say something more, but the words died on his lips. He straightened, saluted stiffly, and turned to leave.

As the door closed behind him, Elric’s composed expression twisted into a sneer.

"Ignorant fool," he muttered, clicking his tongue in disdain.

He rose from his chair and walked toward the small window overlooking the streets below.

From this height, the town looked orderly, peaceful, even but Elric knew better. Beneath the surface lay corruption, desperation, and fear, all of which he manipulated with practiced ease.

"Where is that reckless girl?" he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

His fingers drummed against the window frame.

"With her not around, who am I supposed to send to take the fall for this mess?" he mused.

Of course, Elric knew full well that the Federation Police’s involvement with the Ghost Scream Bounty Hunters would stir unrest among the awakeners. Rumors would spread.

Accusations would surface.

But he didn’t care.

As long as someone else could be blamed, the Federation Police would remain clean.

"Whatever," he said with a dismissive snort. "I’ll just send someone to retrieve him after they’ve had their fun."

A grin spread across his face.

He tapped the wooden table twice, the sound echoing faintly through the room.

"What should I expect from a commoner?" he scoffed. "Always desperate to prove themselves heroes of humanity."

His voice dripped with contempt.

Shaking his head, Elric dismissed the thought of Thoren entirely. To him, the boy’s fate was already sealed in stone.

...

Inside the Slave Trade Guild, a very different yet equally sinister atmosphere reigned.

Gilbert sat alone in a dimly lit room, the faint glow of a single torch casting long shadows across the stone walls. In his hands was the same intelligence report, its contents weighing heavily on his mind.

"I don’t know how that boy managed to survive this long," Gilbert muttered, his brows knitting together. "But now..."

His voice trailed off before hardening.

"I can’t allow him to escape again."

He lowered the report slowly, fingers tightening around the parchment.

"Since he was foolish enough to fall into the trap," he whispered, "I must seize this opportunity."

For a long moment, silence engulfed the room.

The torch flickered weakly, its flame wavering as though it might extinguish at any moment.

Finally, Gilbert spoke again.

"I suppose I’ll have to spend our accumulated funds from the past three months."

A flash of pain crossed his face.

That wealth had been carefully amassed through countless successful missions, blood, sweat, and lives traded for coins.

To part with it so easily grated against him.

But failing to capture Thoren would cost him far more.

Grinding his teeth, Gilbert slammed his fist lightly against the table.

"When I get my hands on that bastard," he snarled, "I’ll take everything from him with interest."

Thoren’s talent was undeniable. Sold to the right buyers, he would fetch a staggering price. And before sending him to the headquarters, Gilbert could think of countless ways to profit personally.

He tapped the table once.

The door creaked open.

An ordinary-looking girl stepped inside, clad in a black robe with a hood obscuring most of her face. Her presence was unremarkable, precisely what made her dangerous.

Gilbert did not look at her as he spoke.

"Go to the Federation building," he ordered coldly. "Ask our handler what it will take for them to release our prey into our hands."

"Yes, my lord," she replied softly, bowing her head before retreating.

Once she was gone, Gilbert’s expression darkened further.

"Why haven’t I received any message from the leader?" he muttered.

A faint sense of unease crept into his chest.

"Could something have happened?"

He shook his head sharply, dismissing the thought.

He had met the leader once but that had been enough. The man’s strength bordered on terrifying, nearing the peak of the Abyss’s first floor.

Nothing could possibly threaten someone like that.

"Once I have the boy," Gilbert murmured, "I’ll make a journey to headquarters myself."

...

In a secluded, forgotten corner of the town, darkness clung stubbornly to the land.

Few even knew this area existed.

Long abandoned, it was littered with decaying wooden houses, their designs unlike the structures found elsewhere in town. Time and neglect had warped them into crooked silhouettes, their windows hollow and lifeless.

The air here was colder.

A faint, musty scent of rot and abandonment lingered, carried by the still wind.

Occasionally, the soft chirping of insects broke the silence.

Otherwise, the area felt like a graveyard.

Then.

The air shifted.

"The boy is still alive..." a voice murmured from within the darkness.

No figure could be seen, only the sound itself.

"How is that possible?" another voice responded quietly. "Very few should have survived."

A pause followed.

"Do you think he’s the reason for everything?"

Silence stretched once more, thick and oppressive.

Finally, a voice answered, calm yet filled with resolve.

"As long as we capture him and everyone who survived... we will find our answers."

The darkness swallowed the voices whole.

And the town remained unaware of the storm gathering beneath its shadows.