StartNovelChapter 839
"Die."
"Just die already!"
In the middle of pitch-black nothingness, he jolted awake. There wasn't a sliver of light around him he had no
idea where he was. The ground felt like a soft
sponge underfoot, unstable and slippery. He couldn't stand upright, stumbling in every direction.
He tried to walk forward, hoping to find a way out of the darkness, but there was no path. No direction. Just the
sound of wind rushing past his ears.
And then-right next to him-someone whispered, fast and sharp. "Go die."
It sounded so real.
So real that he collapsed to the ground in panic.
"Who's there? Cout!" he shouted, voice raw and frantic.
But all he got back was his own echo, bouncing endlessly in the dark.
"Die."
That voice—like a demon's murmur-kept echoing around him, again and again, right in his ear. He looked around,
trying to find the source, but there wasn't a single shadow in sight.
Then suddenly, voices exploded from all directions, overlapping, rising in volume, all repeating the sthing:
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Go die."
It was like a swarm of flies buzzing right by his ears-relentless, invisible, impossible to swat away.
Out of nowhere, something glinted.
He whipped around and saw a knife drop beside him—but still no one in sight.
Then another one.
More and more blades fell to the ground at his feet. It was as if he was surrounded by invisible killers, all waiting
for the right moment to strike.
And then-agony.
A searing pain tore through his chest.
He looked down and saw a long blade sticking straight through him.
"Help!"
He shot upright in bed, gasping for air. His hand instinctively slapped the lamp on the bedside table.
The light flicked on, cutting through the dark.
Only then did he begin to calm down, the room slowly grounding him.
He looked down at his chest-no blood, no wound, no pain. The sword was gone.
Just a dream.
A nightmare.
He rarely had dreams like that anymore. As a kid, sure-after seeing too much blood, too much violence. But not
lately.
Still, that one had felt too real. Like someone had actually been trying to kill him.
He glanced around, heart pounding. Something felt off-like someone might still
be hiding in the room, ready to leap out at any second.
He got up and turned on every light in the house before he finally started to breathe normally.
Only then did he feel safe.
But something didn't sit right.
What the hell was that?
He sat there in the glow of the lights, a frown tugging at his brow.
Meanwhile, Zachary sat in his office, surrounded by a stack of dots on his desk-mostly related to the latest deals
with the Wilson family s
Steven strolled in, as relaxed as ever. "Zachary, when are you finally givinga break? Scarlett's been nagging
Sanders for help.” s
Zachary chuckled. Steven had been working hard lately, he had to admit. "Send this anonymously to that old fox
from the Wilson family. Ther you're free to go." s
"Seriously?" Steven's eyes widened like he couldn't believe it. Zachary was actually letting him off the hook?
"You keep talking and you're staying here."
"No, no—I'm gone!" Steven quickly snatched the tablet off Zachary's desk.
But as he glanced at the screen, his expression changed. "Wait a sec... you already sent it? That fast?"
Zachary's tone was cool. "Too fast? Vivian Wilson messed up. I'm just giving her a little appetizer before the real
meal."
Steven nodded, catching on. "Got it. Loud and clear."
word
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