[Present-day, Sokolov's Mansion]
"Tsar, a correspondence has arrived from Ms. Lillana."
Albert bowed respectfully to the man, who gazed out towards the scenery, seated on the window seat.
He was tall, his frame imposing as his back reclined against the wall, and an arm rested on his propped-up knee. But the cramped space could only accommodate him this much of him, that his leg was left to stretch outward from the seat, resting instead on the marbled floor.
Waking up from his nap, Caesar took a moment to watch the overcast grey sky; though no longer raining as it had when he arrived hours prior, the oppressive atmosphere didn't help lighten his mood.
To dream of what happened in the past 17 years left Caesar with a bitter aftertaste.
Glancing up at the proud butler from his window seat, the once-tall man now shortened in height, his back curved forward, while aged lines ran across his face.
He looked… weak.
In just 17 years, the Albert had become frail; now Caesar had to tilt his chin down to meet his gaze whenever he stood.
To think I used to be powerless against a mere servant.
Caesar scoffed as irritation rose; the memories of the past fed an impulse to kill.
If we wanted to, he could kill him with a snap; the elderly, after all, have much less strength left in their bones.
That hypothetical thought made Caesar strike the other's throat. Grasping that old man's neck, he lifted him off the ground. Caught off guard by the unexpected attack, Albert choked as he grasped onto Caesar's hand, eyes widening, as he struggled out of the grip.
He kicked and struggled, eyes turning bloodshot from the lack of oxygen.
He wondered, if he strangled him for the same amount of time as he had been 9 years ago, would you die?
He watched as the eyes determined to survive turned fearful, and though the struggle was fiercer, he thrashed far more weakly. It was only when the old man's mouth started to foam, and his pupils rolled back to the back of his eyes, that Caesar let go.
He watched the man twice his age cough and struggle to breathe. But he felt nothing, no catharsis for the payback, nor regret of not finishing the job.
It was that blank expression that made Albert's pupil shake, heart beating rapidly. Like prey, the old butler looked up, trembling in terror.
"Knock, or there wouldn't be a next time." He remarked, tidying the hem of his dress shirt as per usual, as if he hadn't strangled the elderly man before him.
"Yes… Haaa, Tsar, I shall do as you commanded."
Albert squeezed out a meek reply before he crossed his arms and crouched facing the floor, the bony back still shaking, but this time with violent fervor.
Haha- a chuckle. Furrowing his brows, Caesar left, not wanting to deal with this. As he left, stifled chuckles soon bloomed to manic laughter echoing from the room to the halls, each syllable grating like a broken radio.
"Head! Did you see that? How majestic is the heir! What a great Tsar! Long live the Sokolovs HAHAHA-cough-haha!"
Caesar grimaced, hands balled into fists- Tsar, huh. I guess it wouldn't be wrong.
17 years was a long time, far enough to have half-siblings kill each other. Maybe Caesar would have been one of the unfortunate ones, had he not promised himself to find a way back home to Earth to his sisters.
Arriving at his study, Caesar, like clockwork, threw a dagger on the upper right corner of the wall, hitting straight at the spider building its web. The blade hit metal before falling onto the carpeted ground with a dull thud.
Flowers, insects, and paintings; each new ornament was treated the same, and every time it was shattered with a metallic sound, followed by a dull thud.
A circular metal orb fell from the last one, rolling to Caesar's foot. The tiny red dot flashing periodically.
.-.. .- ..- --. .... .. -. --.
Stepping on the camera, the sheer force breaks into dust. Psycho.
Only when he was sure he was no longer observed did Caesar check the documents on the desk. He worked on matters regarding his company, signing relevant proposals and rejecting unprofitable projects.
Before moving to deal with organizational matters. The reports were numerous but not overwhelming. Forced to do this job since he was 20 there were things you'd pick up on (willingly or not) if you do it long enough.
After clearing the pile, he opened a string & washer envelope, unlocking the closed-off string in the same peculiar manner it was locked by its sender.
For 17 years, Caesar built his power to find clues on how to return; now 30 years later, he still has yet to find a significant trace of the goal he longed for, that was... until now.
[Dearest Caesar,
Should I refer to you as Tsar now? Congratulations, it brings me joy that you- my favorite cousin- have come out on top.
Though I hope that as you formally take on the position, you will overcome your phobia towards certain technologies (who in this day in age still use letters and birds?! Imagine my shock when a-
-The following contents have been omitted and summarized courtesy of the Tsar-
I narrowed it down to 3 candidates, finding the kid you're looking for was a headache. Do you know how many mixed-race asians have been displaced to Russia? Or how many russian women have married Chinese soldiers during the war?
[Male. 6-10 years old. Half-asian older brother who works as a police officer. Live(?) biological mother. Kid may or may not be mixed]- Tsar I love you but you couldn't care to tell what flavor of asian you're looking for? Wtf was this descrip-
-The following contents have been omitted courtesy of the Tsar-
Enclosed here are their profiles. I've also investigated their families. Two of those children were found to attend the same elementary school in the capital, the other one, however, seemed to have been transferred to the western district after his older brother was transferred out of the capital.
Remember the incident in Downtown 3 months ago? The lead officer was that child's older brother.]
Drumming his fingers on the table, Caesar frowned, 3 months ago, his now diseased half-brother tried to collude with Senator Romanov to seize Sokolov's power.
A foolish move, but he did enjoy watching his last competitor, sad that Romanov abandoned him halfway, having him taken by the police.
He died in that prison cell. Well, that incident didn't bring much of a loss.
He became the only remaining heir candidate; he solidified his position and power in the organization, as well as seized all of his half-brother's assets and even Romanov's black material. The senator had been quiet, but it wouldn't be odd if she made a move soon.
Maybe even using the same police officer she had used to have Pavlev arrested. Not knowing they're pawns to hide away her corruption. That bitch always had strange tastes.
Perhaps that officer was this body's so-called 'doomed yaoi ship' like his sister would be crazed about.
However, as he read each profile, the names didn't ring a bell to him. Was this his karma for not caring to remember character names?
If his sisters hadn't stopped chattering about Caesar, then maybe he would have forgotten that name as well. Feeling the brewing headache, he massaged his brows, reclining on the chair with a sigh.
He ought to see the children for himself, after all, one of them could very well be the original male lead who would kill him. But to personally travel with the proclamation this Friday would alarm unwanted attention.
The capital would take a day's travel, but the western district…
"It's doable."
—
However, little did Tsar know that his well thought travel plans would come crashing down by an annoying young man.
"Hands off the child, now!"