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墨書 Inktalez
Sweat had begun to bead on Rain's forehead as the reporters swarmed around him like wild dogs sensing blood. Each question was sharper than the last, and every word he spoke was met with rebuttals; every promise was scoffed at. The red lights of the cameras surrounded him like bullets, leaving him nowhere to hide.
“Mayor! Please respond!”
“Mayor! Do you really believe your government is still capable of managing this city?!”
“Answer us, Mayor—”
Finally, security rushed in, forcibly pushing back the throng of reporters. They practically carried Rain toward the black sedan parked by the roadside. He stumbled slightly, his face pale as he was engulfed by the shouts of the journalists. He fought to suppress his anger until the car door slammed shut, cutting off the chaos outside. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
He slumped against the back of the seat, trembling hands loosening his tie, his expression resembling a lifeless mask.
However, just then—
“Beep—beep—”
The ringtone of his phone abruptly shattered the brief silence in the car.
Taking a deep breath, Rain tried to calm himself as he picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID.
It was one of the city’s wealthiest tycoons, Beckman.
His heart sank.
This call would bring no good news.
After hesitating for a second, he pressed the answer button and held it to his ear. “Mr. Beckman…”
“Rain, are you completely out of your mind?” The voice on the other end was laced with unmasked anger and suppressed fury. “Is this the city you govern? Is this what you call ‘safety’?! What about my bank?! What about my assets?! This explosion destroyed more than just buildings; it obliterated money, trust, and the entire economic system! Do you even understand how severe this attack is?!”
Rain’s lips trembled as he gripped the phone tightly, trying to maintain his composure, but Beckman didn’t give him a chance to interject.
“Do you think this is just an ordinary terrorist attack? No, this is a financial disaster! The market is in turmoil; investors are pulling out; operations within banks are paralyzed! You have no idea what consequences this will bring to the city!”
“The reason we put you in the mayor's office was to stabilize the situation, not to hand over the city to chaos! What right do you have to remain in City Hall?”
Rain took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Mr. Beckman, I... I am truly sorry. This attack was beyond our expectations, and we will do everything we can to pursue..."
"Pursue? What a load of nonsense! You can't even catch a shadow! These terrorists are killing and burning right under your nose, and now the Financial District has been bombed, yet you can do nothing?! Rain, I warn you, everyone is watching you now, including us 'friends'—"
The other party's tone grew darker, laced with a dangerous coldness. "If you allow our interests to be harmed again, you know what the consequences will be."
As soon as the words fell, there was a dull click on the line, and the call ended.
Rain held the phone tightly, his fingers trembling, veins bulging.
"Damn it..."
His anger erupted in an instant. He slammed the phone onto the floor of the car with all his might. The device hit with a dull thud, the glass screen shattering instantly, mirroring his fraying sanity.
He gasped for breath, his eyes bloodshot, his mind filled with those damned reporters, their sharp questions, the cold warnings, and Beckman's threatening tone.
Sitting in the black sedan, the city continued to burn around him. Alarms blared incessantly; flames painted the night sky crimson as if the entire city were slowly being consumed.
Rain slumped in the car, veins throbbing at his temples, his chest heaving as if he were suffocating.
The phone screen kept flashing relentlessly; vibrations came in waves. Text messages and calls had already flooded in beyond capacity. The cracked screen displayed urgent notifications from all sides—staff members, police chiefs, financial tycoons, congressional politicians, news media, and even missed calls from certain gang leaders.
They were all looking for him.
They all wanted answers from him.
But Rain no longer wanted to deal with any of it.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath as he tossed the phone aside, wishing to rid himself of this cursed reality and escape from the chaos and fear that engulfed the city.
He knew he was powerless now.
The Financial District had been bombed; chaos reigned in the city. Terrorists roamed freely while City Hall was besieged by protesters. The media clawed at every inch of his skin; Beckman and other Greedy Corporations tycoons had lost faith in him long ago. Even gangsters began to press him for how to respond to this catastrophe.
But he could do nothing.
His government was nothing but a shell, the police department long since devoured by gangs and corruption. The special forces were either incompetent or had already been bought off, and his so-called "allies" were now calculating how to abandon him to protect their own interests.
Rain understood all too well that he was merely a pawn, and this pawn had reached the edge of the board.
What else could he do? Stay here, torn apart by the media, the gangs, greedy corporations, and terrorists? Forced to deliver meaningless speeches on screen, only to be assassinated in some dark alley, becoming a casualty of the city's collapse?
“Damn it.”
Rain closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened them. Now, he had only one path left to take—gather all his funds and leave this place, leave this damn cursed city behind.
He would go into hiding, assume a new identity, move to another country, and live a truly stable life.
At least this way, he wouldn’t have to face those crazed reporters, dissatisfied greedy corporations, terrorists demanding his head, or the rioters wanting to overthrow him. He wouldn’t have to worry about whether the city would turn to ashes by tomorrow or if someone would aim a gun at his head one day.
He just needed to ensure that he was still alive.
“Drive me home,” Rain said quietly, his tone cold and resolute.
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror, said nothing but nodded slightly, gently pressing down on the accelerator as the car glided silently into the dark streets.
He didn’t have much time left; he needed to prepare quickly.
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