Inspector Pedro Lopez closed the door behind him with calculated softness—
As if to suggest there was no urgency—
And yet complete control.
A polite smile rested on his face.
But his eyes—
Observed everything.
Every breath.
Every microexpression.
"I don't believe I introduced myself properly," he said, adjusting his jacket. "Inspector Pedro Lopez. I'd like to speak with you about something… delicate."
Eric remained relaxed on the hospital bed.
At least on the surface.
Inside—
His mind was already moving fast.
"Delicate?" he asked, voice steady. "About what?"
He glanced briefly at Elena.
"Maybe it's better if we speak with my lawyer present."
Lucía immediately stepped closer, her posture shifting into full professionalism.
Elena understood instantly.
There was something in Eric's expression—
Not just concern.
Strategy.
She moved toward the door.
"Miss Lin," the inspector interrupted, his tone almost theatrically polite, "I believe your presence might also help clarify a few things."
Elena froze.
Her heart sped up.
Lucía narrowed her eyes.
"Is this an official interrogation, Inspector?"
Pedro Lopez raised his hands slightly.
"No. Just an informal conversation. I'm gathering information."
Eric realized it too late.
Asking Elena to leave—
Could be interpreted as an attempt to control the narrative.
Mistake.
"Then let's talk," Eric said.
The inspector inclined his head slightly.
"First of all… I'm sorry for your loss."
Silence fell—
Sharp and invisible.
Eric didn't react.
Didn't blink.
Lucía turned immediately.
"Loss?"
Elena was the first to show visible tension.
Pedro Lopez watched carefully.
"Several men who, according to records, were providing your security… were found dead."
No visible reaction from Eric.
But the inspector caught it—
A nearly imperceptible tightening of the jaw.
"Security?" Lucía stepped in firmly. "My client hired temporary private services. He had no control over their schedule."
The inspector smiled.
"I understand."
Then he turned to Elena.
"You were found unconscious. No visible injuries. Clear signs of sedation."
She swallowed.
"I… was kidnapped," she said quietly.
"And you don't remember how you escaped?"
"No."
Pedro Lopez nodded slowly.
"Interesting."
He walked a few steps across the room.
"The doctor mentioned you arrived in a state of extreme exhaustion," he said, turning back to Eric. "Something… unusual."
Eric crossed his arms carefully.
"I ran too much."
The inspector raised an eyebrow.
"Too much… how much?"
"Enough."
Lucía intervened again.
"My client has already provided sufficient medical information. If there are formal accusations, we'll respond accordingly."
Pedro Lopez looked at her with genuine respect.
"There are no accusations yet."
A pause.
Strategic.
"Only bodies."
The word lingered.
Elena grew visibly paler.
The inspector noticed.
Strange, he thought.
If she was unconscious, why the tension?
"Were these men your friends?" Eric asked, sounding almost genuinely curious.
"No," the inspector replied. "But they were… your associates."
He stepped closer to the bed.
"You've been moving significant amounts of money recently."
Lucía stood immediately.
"Inspector, any reference to financial activity must be handled formally. Everything is within the law."
"I didn't say otherwise."
Pedro Lopez remained calm—
But internally, he was cataloging everything.
Too calm, he thought.
Or very well guided.
"Mr. Santos," he said, locking eyes with Eric, "do you believe you are a suspect?"
The question landed directly.
Eric tilted his head slightly.
"Do you really believe I, a young man with no military experience, could take on a group of trained mercenaries?"
Pedro Lopez smiled.
"No."
Silence.
"There's no way you could be responsible," he continued. "Because while you were asleep in this hospital… other members of that same group were being killed."
This time—
Eric reacted.
Real surprise.
The inspector registered everything.
"Killed?" Eric asked, now fully attentive.
"Yes. In different locations. Overlapping times."
Lucía frowned.
"Are you suggesting a coordinated execution?"
"I'm suggesting someone is cleaning up traces."
Elena gripped the chair subtly.
"So… it's not over?" she murmured.
The inspector turned to her.
"That depends on what exactly happened before you arrived here."
Silence.
Eric exhaled slowly.
"If I were a suspect," he said calmly, "would I be here? Exhausted? Under medical supervision?"
Pedro Lopez tilted his head.
"That's exactly what makes it interesting."
He walked toward the window.
"Sometimes… the survivors are the least likely ones."
Lucía stepped forward.
"My client was a victim. He saved Miss Lin. He was found unconscious."
"Yes," the inspector replied. "Which makes everything even more… intriguing."
He turned back to Eric.
"You really have no idea who would want to eliminate those men?"
Eric held his gaze.
"No."
A partial lie.
He had suspicions.
But no proof.
"Very well," the inspector said finally. "Thank you for your cooperation."
He put his ID away.
"One last thing."
Eric waited.
"If you remember anything… even something small… contact me."
The tone was light.
But the message was clear.
We're watching.
Pedro Lopez left the room as calmly as he had entered.
The moment the door closed—
Lucía turned to Eric.
"You didn't tell me everything."
"I told you enough," he replied.
Elena looked unsettled.
"They're being killed… after what happened to us."
Eric stayed silent.
He understood.
Someone was erasing traces.
And it wasn't him.
"This is going to get worse," Lucía said, crossing her arms. "He doesn't believe in coincidences."
"Neither do I," Eric replied.
He looked at his hands.
If the police started tracking his finances…
If they cross-referenced camera footage…
If patterns emerged…
He needed to move faster.
He needed to change how he operated.
"I'll need the next acquisitions to be more fragmented," he said, already thinking out loud. "Less concentration. More dispersion."
"What are you talking about?" Elena asked.
"Survival."
Outside the hospital—
Pedro Lopez walked through the parking lot, speaking on the phone.
"I want discreet surveillance," he said. "The young man, the lawyer, and Miss Lin. Full financial history. Routes. Recent contacts."
A pause.
"Don't pressure them yet. Just observe."
He hung up.
The inspector looked back at the hospital building.
There was something about that young man.
Not strength.
Not money.
Inconsistency.
And inconsistencies—
Always led to something bigger.
Inside the room—
Eric stared at the ceiling.
The police had begun to move.
The invisible organization was erasing traces.
The prince was involved.
And the Midas System remained silent.
He needed more coins.
Faster.
Before the net closed.