CHAPTER 7

Death threats? Michael was used to them. Sometimes, threats to his life were his breakfast. He was accustomed to people threatening his life. What he didn't expect was that a familiar face and a friend would be one of the reasons he died. Someone he helped get back on their feet would be the one to betray him. That person was Freddie.

Freddie was an ally and someone Michael considered a brother. He didn't know what drove Freddie to betray him. Michael was a kind person. In fact, he wasn't used to trouble. He resolved problems calmly and didn't act impulsively. If his employees made mistakes, he forgave them and gave them another chance.

If they needed something, especially money, he easily gave it to them because he believed that money was meant to be seen and spent. Moreover, his employees played a big role in his success. So, he couldn't imagine that one day they would kill him.

Michael sneered, baring his teeth as he looked at Freddie, who was visibly shaking with fear. Who wouldn't be scared if the person they planned to kill was right in front of them, alive and kicking, and had even killed their accomplices?

Michael took a step closer to Freddie. From a few feet away, he saw the fear in Freddie's eyes. He was amused by what he saw. He could smell the guilt all over his so-called friend's aura. But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to know what revenge felt like. It would be easier for him to take revenge, especially since Freddie seemed willing to fight. Michael wasn't wrong, as Freddie took out a gun and pointed it at him.

"I'll kill you, you demon!!!" Freddie shouted, firing shots at him.

Freddie fired several shots in his direction, but Michael wasn't worried. He could see the bullets coming towards him, so why would he be scared?

Like earlier, he dodged the bullets as if they were feathers floating in the air. When he finally got bored with the scene, he let out another sneer at his friend.

"Goodbye, Freddie..." he said before jumping high into the air and landing on Freddie's car, where he was positioned.

The word "demon" was about to leave Freddie's lips but was cut short as his head separated from his body.

Michael gave Freddie a cold stare before getting off the car to approach the elderly guard, who was lying on the ground unconscious. For Michael, this was a good thing because he didn't need to explain to the old man what happened that night.

He carried the former employee like a sack of rice and put him inside his small hut. He saw the poor living conditions inside, with only a 12-inch TV that he doubted was even functional.

He laid the elderly guard on the torn mat on the floor, then went to the kitchen, which was just a few steps away from the bed. Luckily, there was a stove and gas cylinder, so he was able to heat up some water. When the water boiled, he poured it into a small tub he found. He added some cold water to the tub before returning to the old man, who was still lying down.

He sat beside the old man to clean his wounds, but he realized he had forgotten to bring a towel. He was about to stand up when he stopped. He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Why are you laughing, mortal?" the creature accompanying him asked.

"I thought all demons were ruthless, but I was wrong." He took the violet-colored towel from the basin and wrung it out. He began to wipe the old man's wounds. "But here you are, you even provided me a towel." With each gentle touch of the towel on the old man's wounds, he wasn't surprised that the wounds healed on their own. After all, the demon had brought him back to life, so healing the old man's wounds was child's play.

"Stop mocking me." The demon's voice was as cold as ice, devoid of any emotion.

"I'm not mocking you. I'm complimenting you." It was amusing how they exchanged words, especially since he couldn't see the demon. Only he could hear its voice, as it remained trapped in the daffodil where it resided.

"It's mockery."

Michael sighed. He didn't want to argue with the demon, especially since he knew nothing about demons. Weren't demons supposed to be terrifying creatures? He was scared whenever he saw them in his dreams.

But when he saw this demon, all his preconceptions disappeared. The traits he thought demons possessed were nowhere to be found in this creature that had helped him. He used to think demons had horns and tails, but he saw none of that in the creature he was talking to.

Did it have wings, though? Black and red wings.

"Did you claim their lives?" Michael was taken aback by his own question. It was a stupid thing to ask.

But the demon's response amused him. Who would have thought that a demon could laugh?

"What do you think?" the demon asked.

In response, Michael shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, but I believe you have a heart, unlike those who killed me."

"Tell me that when you see me face to face."

"I've already seen your face. I still know what you look like."

"You do?”

"Hmm. It's still clear to me as if it was my very first time to see sunlight after a long period of rain."

The demon didn't answer him, instead asking a question that made him ponder.

What was he going to do now?

He was sure he didn't want to ask the daffodil for anything yet, even though he was used to the demon's presence around him.

"I'll figure it out," he replied before looking at the old man, who was stirring from his lying position.

Michael had no intention of running away or hiding from the old man, so he waited for the old man to fully open his eyes. Michael expected the old man's reaction, so he wasn't surprised when the old man screamed and shuddered, backing away from him in fear.

"You’re already dead, Sir, aren't you? I went to your funeral!"

Michael stood up before nodding. He didn't answer right away because he was examining the old man's body, which was previously covered in wounds and bruises. Now, it looked like nothing had happened to the old man.

Michael walked towards the bamboo sofa. He needed to sit down because, at 6'3" tall, his head almost touched the roof made of palm leaves.

The old man tapped his own face, and Michael couldn't help but curve his lips in an attempt to stifle a smile. The old man seemed to think he was just dreaming.

"You're not dreaming, old guard," he said, unaware of the old man's name. "I'm real, and I'm right in front of you."

The old man's back pressed harder against the wall behind him due to fear.

"I won't hurt you. I'm here to ask for your help. I'm here to find out what you know." Michael needed to convince the old man of his intentions. He was willing to start from the bottom to reclaim his company.

He wanted to claim what was rightfully his, and he could only do that by getting inside the building he had built himself. Tears, sweat, and blood had gone into building his success before he was killed, so now that he had been given a chance, he would do everything to take revenge.

"What is your name?" he asked the old man gently. He didn't want to scare him, so he tried to approach him kindly. He didn't want to cause any health problems for the old man, although he could hear the old man's heart beating clearly.

"Jun... You can call me Jun..."

Michael let out another deep sigh because he could hardly understand what the old man was saying due to his fear.

"Calm down, Mang Jun. I won't hurt you like Freddie's men did. I'm here to ask for your help." The old man remained silent. "I won't hurt you," Michael repeated. "I didn't hang myself..."

He observed the old man's reaction. The old man seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after hearing that.

Michael didn't want to tell the truth, but he didn't want to lie to the person he was asking for help.

"I didn't hang myself because I was killed. I

was stabbed and died in my own home, Mang Jun. I know you'll understand when I say I need your help.”