Ryan slowly opened his eyes.
The ceiling of his bedroom appeared before him.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
His body felt as though he had been carrying rocks for hours. Every muscle protested. His ribs still hurt, and taking a deep breath was definitely not a good idea.
But his left hand was the worst.
Ryan carefully raised his arm.
His hand was still swollen and purple. His fingers barely responded, and certain movements sent a sharp pain shooting all the way up his arm.
—I'm still completely fucked up...
He let himself fall back onto the pillow.
He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
The fight from that night felt as though it had happened weeks ago.
Justin.
Jack.
The Entity.
The warehouse reduced to ruins.
And then, the call.
Ryan closed his eyes.
—What a night...
Eventually, he gathered enough strength to sit up.
He remained sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the slight dizziness to disappear.
—Come on.
He placed both hands on the mattress.
His left hand immediately hurt.
Ryan grimaced.
—Well... maybe one hand.
He stood up.
Every step was uncomfortable, but he could walk.
That was something.
---
Ryan reached the bathroom and turned on the light.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
He had bruises all over his torso and several scratches were still visible. Some of the wounds had already closed, although they had left marks behind.
He raised his left hand.
It looked like it belonged to someone else.
—Definitely not in good shape.
Ryan extended his right hand.
A small dark light appeared above his palm.
The energy slowly traveled through his body.
Ryan used healing magic.
The wounds began to close.
The pain decreased.
But it didn't disappear.
Ryan frowned.
—Come on...
He increased the amount of energy slightly.
His left hand reacted with a small purple flash.
Ryan immediately pulled the magic away.
—What the hell...?
He stared at his hand.
For a second, he thought he saw a tiny purple smile on his skin.
He blinked.
It was gone.
Ryan remained motionless.
—The particles...
He remembered the supposed gift from the original Clown.
Those particles had entered his body after the battle.
He didn't know exactly what they had done.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to find out yet.
—I'll investigate it later.
Ryan lowered his arm.
—First, I need to recover.
---
After cleaning himself up, Ryan returned to his bedroom.
He sat down in front of the computer and turned it on.
The screen took a few seconds to load.
Finally, the Nexum dashboard appeared.
Ryan began checking the statistics.
Active users.
New registrations.
Published projects.
Offers sent.
The numbers were still small.
Very small.
But they were growing.
Ryan clicked through several sections.
There were new users who had started posting projects.
Some were looking for programmers.
Others were looking for designers.
There were even several requests for translation and writing.
Ryan smiled slightly.
—Not bad.
He opened a notes file.
He began writing.
New ideas:
A clearer rating system between clients and freelancers.
Separate categories: programming, design, writing, and translation.
Featured projects section.
Public profiles for freelancers.
Portfolios within each profile.
A better search system.
Later on... an internal payment system.
Ryan stopped.
He looked at the last idea.
—That'll be complicated.
In 2006, creating an internal payment system wasn't exactly simple.
He would need security.
Partners.
Infrastructure.
And a lot of money.
But he didn't dismiss the idea.
He simply added one word at the end.
Future.
Ryan leaned back in his chair.
He looked at the dashboard again.
Nexum was still small.
It was still clumsy.
It still had problems.
But it worked.
That was what mattered.
—This is only the beginning.
He slowly closed the file.
Nexum wasn't just a simple hobby.
It was the foundation.
The first brick of something much bigger.
His empire.
Ryan knew he still had a tremendous amount of work ahead of him.
And now he had another problem.
A supernatural entity that would eventually return.
An enemy that still hadn't shown its true power.
And a supposed ally who seemed to enjoy playing with him.
Ryan smiled.
—I have too many problems.
He slowly stood up.
—First, I recover.
He looked at the computer again.
—Then I make it grow.
---
Meanwhile, at Madeleine's house...
The four girls were sitting in the living room.
Vivian, Brittany, Ana, and Madeleine.
The atmosphere was much lighter than it had been over the past few days.
Nobody mentioned the Clown.
Nobody talked about money.
Nobody talked about missions.
For the first time in several days, they were simply together.
Ana was sitting at one end of the couch.
—Did you see what happened in history class yesterday?
Brittany laughed.
—The teacher?
—Yeah.
—He almost fell asleep standing up.
Madeleine shook her head.
—I was more worried about next week's exam.
Ana looked at her.
—Because you actually study.
—Someone has to.
Brittany grabbed a cushion and threw it at her.
Madeleine caught it.
—Hey!
The four of them started laughing.
Vivian remained a little quieter, although she smiled from time to time.
The conversation continued.
They talked about school.
About a movie they wanted to watch.
About teachers.
About how tired they were.
For a while, everything felt normal.
None of them mentioned that laugh.
None of them talked about the balloons.
None of them asked why the Clown had chosen them.
Maybe because they all needed to pretend, even if only for a few hours, that their lives were still normal.
---
When it was getting late, Brittany checked the time on her phone.
—I have to go.
She stood up.
—My mom is waiting for me.
Ana stood as well.
—Me too.
Madeleine walked them to the door.
—See you tomorrow.
—Yeah —Ana replied.
Brittany raised a hand.
—See you.
Vivian was the last one to get up.
She put on her jacket and walked toward the door.
Madeleine looked at her.
—You're not staying?
Vivian shook her head.
—No. It's late.
—Okay.
Vivian stepped outside.
—See you tomorrow.
—See you —Madeleine replied.
The door closed.
---
On the way home, Vivian walked alone.
The night air was cool.
The streets were quiet.
She kept her hands in the pockets of her jacket and continued walking.
For several minutes, she didn't think about anything.
She simply walked.
But inevitably, her mind returned to what had happened.
The Clown.
The letters.
The balloons.
The money.
Justin and Jack.
The laughter they had heard that night.
Vivian frowned slightly.
She didn't know who the Clown was.
She didn't know where he was.
She didn't know what he really wanted from them.
And that was precisely what bothered her the most.
Until now, they had simply received instructions.
They followed them.
Then they were paid.
But this couldn't continue forever.
Vivian stopped for a moment.
She looked at the houses around her.
Everything seemed normal.
Too normal.
—Who are you, really...?
She didn't expect an answer.
And she didn't receive one.
Only the wind moved the trees slightly.
Vivian continued walking.
After a few more steps, she spoke again, this time almost in a whisper.
—I need to investigate this more carefully.
She didn't know where to start.
She didn't know how dangerous it could be.
But there was one thing she knew for certain.
Obeying was no longer enough.
If the Clown wanted to keep them under his control, Vivian needed to know exactly who they were dealing with.
And as she continued walking down that quiet street, she made a decision.
The next time they received an order...
she wouldn't just obey.
She would start asking questions.