By using the twins’ abilities, if a very intimate person approached the opponent’s consciousness, a high-grade Esper like Haimar could perceive Ben’s very existence as a signal.
It meant it was possible to pinpoint a location coordinate, much like a biological GPS.
It was a dream technology of the twins, utilizing the special bond between an Esper and a Guide that science couldn’t explain, and they called it “Existence Coordinates.”
Penka’s attempt to send Ben into the dream so Haimar could detect Ben’s Existence Coordinates was sound.
The problem arose because the dream was severed midway.
If the dream had stably continued, he would have successfully pinpointed the exact location, but since it didn’t, Haimar failed to secure enough time to fully confirm the Existence Coordinates.
Ultimately, he managed to specify the city where Ben was, but he couldn’t pinpoint the more detailed location.
Even in a small city, finding a kidnapped person required time and effort, like searching for a needle in a haystack in such an area.
With every second counting, he couldn’t afford to waste time searching every nook and cranny.
Therefore, to minimize this process, Haimar chose to “stop” an area of 4.5 square kilometers centered around himself.
To simply call it “stopping” did not fully convey the near-impossible act realized through a colossal psychic power encompassing both the physical and mental realms.
Although the population was conservatively estimated to be in the tens of thousands, Haimar chose to stop all living creatures and objects, seize their minds, and read information indiscriminately.
It went without saying how utterly astonishing and terrifying this act was.
Despite this, Haimar himself was completely unconcerned.
He figured that if what he wanted wasn’t found within the currently set radius, he would simply expand the range.
Knowing that what he sought was within this city, he was determined to find it.
However, as a vast amount of information flooded a single brain, naturally, it began to overload.
The control device in his ear buzzed maniacally.
Veins stood out on his neck, and his body temperature gradually rose, bringing back forgotten sensations.
It was a feast of acutely sharpened senses that had been so normal when Ben wasn’t around.
That felt incredibly foul.
The memory of the time without Ben only served to confirm his absence.
Amidst all this, Renato Lanilgraph, caught by Haimar, was a stroke of luck.
A person who might know the location of Roilnia’s hideout if it was in this city.
If not, just a person related to that damned Roilnia Lanilgraph.
“Do you know something? I’m already severely holding back my anger because someone told me not to arrest innocent people.”
He encountered a necessary person at just the right time.
“But it should be fine to take out my frustration on one person. Don’t you think?”
Against the backdrop of a seemingly generous voice, his beautifully curved eyes held a dangerous glint.
Sweat poured down Renato’s temples like rain in his eerie reverence.
His legs felt weak, as if he would stumble and fall at any moment.
“I know nothing about Roilnia.”
“I see.”
His mouth was parched at Haimar’s dry reply, which showed no acceptance whatsoever.
Haimar looked askance at Renato with a disinterested expression, then raised his index finger and beckoned downward.
At that, the old man’s legs, already weakened, gave out, and he crumpled to the floor, kneeling.
“Keep talking.”
The old man was too busy trying to withstand the crushing pressure on his entire body to even think about standing up his fallen legs.
All he felt as he looked up at Haimar was the primitive desire to survive.
When people encounter a catastrophe that cannot be averted by the power of a single individual, they instinctively struggle to survive and try to escape, rather than confronting and overcoming it head-on.
Likewise, Haimar was like such a natural disaster to Renato.
The urge to survive surged fiercely.
Although Haimar wasn’t openly threatening his life like Roilnia, he felt like he was facing a much greater threat.
“I truly don’t know where that child is. Why are you coming to me? I’m a victim, too!”
Renato Lanilgraph did not want to ruin his life because of one granddaughter he had raised poorly.
Despite being old and frail, the life he had managed to secure from Roilnia’s hands was gained through groveling.
He felt unfairly placed at the crossroads of death once again because of his granddaughter.
To the old man, Roilnia was a traitor who had caused him to lose his daughter and defiled the family name.
Yet, he had endured enormous sacrifices to keep her in the family solely because she was a Lanilgraph by blood, making it difficult to accept that this was the resulting consequence.
“That’s not for you to decide, hypocrite.”
Haimar sneered, looking down at the old man, who seemed to have aged even more in that brief moment.
“I decide that.”
The old man was truly foolish.
His current state, lamenting his fate without realizing this was the karma he had accumulated, was comical.
Renato rationalized everything he had done as a sacrifice for Roilnia, but in fact, he was merely a bystander who didn’t want to let go of what he held in his hand.
If he truly cared for the woman, he should have become a true parent instead of raising her with money and power while trembling in fear.
How similar the Lanilgraph bloodline was in its greed.
Unable to give up either his lineage or his honor, he hesitated, clinging to both, and ultimately lost control of everything.
What was the point of discussing this now?
Even the quickest regret was too late.
“I cannot die here. I don’t know where she is, but any other information…!”
Tap.
Haimar lightly tapped the old man’s forehead with a straight index finger, seemingly ignoring Renato’s sophistry.
His fingertip had barely touched and then withdrawn, yet Renato couldn’t even finish his sentence.
Outwardly, there was no change, but he felt something tightly binding his body, making it impossible to move.
Even squeezing his vocal cords to try and make a sound was futile.
[Please… save me…]
Instead of his trembling lips, a silent voice screamed.
“If you bring my Guide before me, I will let you live. Isn’t that quite a merciful offer?”
Haimar, in contrast, looked down at the old man calmly.
The eyes that had been observing Renato but never seemed to truly focus now fully contained Renato as a single human being.
That was chillingly horrifying.
It felt as if he were an insect that had been collected, pinned in place, and now ten thousand eyes were scrutinizing and dissecting him piece by piece.
Renato gradually gasped for breath, eventually panting with his tongue hanging out like someone who had sprinted at full speed.
He was busy trying to calm his breathing at the man’s impossible request.
[…I can’t… I can’t do it.]
“That’s regrettable.”
Suddenly, a massive shadow fell behind the man.
It was a shadow taller than the city skyline and large enough to swallow everything.
Renato stared blankly, utterly mesmerized.
He forgot the sweat trickling down the bridge of his nose and the gasping sensation of being short of breath.
All the old man’s senses were solely captivated by and absorbed in the spectacle unfolding before him.
A tsunami—it was a tsunami.
The shadow that rose greatly and overflowed toward the land was the collective embodiment of tribulation, poised to engulf everything.
A tsunami should never occur in a city not facing the sea.
Although his mind knew this, he clearly saw the undulating water and the waves advancing in a synchronized dance before his eyes.
This was an inexplicable world where the unreal within the unreal became reality.
It was a bizarre parallel world where one couldn’t tell what was real and what was fake.
Renato could no longer clearly distinguish between the boundaries of fear and despair within him. Despair was fear, and fear was despair.
Distinguishing between the two was meaningless before this man.
The only certainty was that he, who was not permitted to swim in this separate world, would be trapped here, floundering until his final end.
The enormous tsunami would sweep over his aged body without mercy.
Ultimately, a helpless, straightforward drowning was the preordained conclusion for Renato Lanilgraph.
This was a verdict.
Thud.
Renato collapsed weakly while gazing at the surging tsunami.
Meaningful thought could no longer continue in his head for long.
Without even realizing it, he froze at some point and met his end.
Death crept up silently, so much so that he didn’t even notice its arrival before he was consumed.
Fear ravenously swallowed the old man, spitting out only an empty shell.
His unfocused eyelids did not close, only shedding blood-tinged tears.
Renato Lanilgraph, a prominent wealthy man and the CEO who led the global defense contractor ‘Anatolia,’ became a guest of no return, leaving behind a wealth of attachments in this life.
It was an abrupt final moment.
