Global Survival: I Have Endless Skeletons-Chapter 190: The Owner of the Hollow Trust.

Brightspire Quarters

This was the district reserved exclusively for the affluent, the wealthiest and most powerful families in the entire city.

Compared to North Dock, the difference was like night and day.

No, perhaps even greater.

To anyone who had spent their life in the slums, stepping into Brightspire would feel like entering an entirely different world.

The air itself seemed cleaner.

The streets were wide, polished, and free of filth.

Every mansion stood proudly behind elegant gates, surrounded by carefully trimmed hedges and vibrant flowers that bloomed in perfect symmetry.

Fountains trickled softly in courtyards, their clear water glistening under the sun.

It was hard to believe that beyond the city walls lay chaos and death.

The government constantly warned of the danger of beasts, of the abyss, of a world no longer safe for humanity.

And yet...

Here, everything seemed untouched.

Unaffected.

Almost... insulated from reality.

Only a few people could be seen walking along the streets, each dressed in fine, immaculate clothing.

Their posture carried confidence, their expressions calm, unlike the constant tension etched into the faces of those from the lower districts.

Among the many luxurious villas, one stood out.

It was larger.

More refined.

And heavily guarded.

Elite guards surrounded the property, stationed at every entrance and vantage point. Each of them was equipped with both cold weapons and firearms, their presence alone enough to deter any ordinary threat.

Their sharp eyes swept across the surroundings with unwavering vigilance.

Nothing escaped their notice.

Inside the villa, the atmosphere was calm but only on the surface.

An old man stood by a floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of wine held loosely in his hand.

His posture was relaxed, yet there was an underlying authority in the way he carried himself.

Behind him stood a young man and a young woman.

Both well-dressed.

Both composed.

But beneath their calm expressions lay curiosity and a hint of tension.

Suddenly, the old man’s communicator rang.

The sharp tone cut through the quiet room.

Without hesitation, he pulled it out and answered the call.

At first, his expression remained unchanged.

But within seconds, it shifted.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice turning dangerously cold.

The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped.

"Who would dare attack my people?" he shouted, veins bulging on his forehead as his composure shattered.

The call continued for a few more seconds before it abruptly ended.

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Oppressive.

"Grandfather... what happened?" the young woman asked, her voice filled with concern.

Beside her, the young man’s brows were furrowed.

They had never seen their grandfather lose his composure like this.

Not once.

The old man did not respond immediately.

Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down as he scrolled through his contacts.

After a brief pause, he selected a name and initiated another call.

The line connected quickly.

"Old friend," a voice spoke from the communicator, already tense, "you need to prepare yourself for this."

The old man narrowed his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, unease creeping into his chest.

"Tell me everything. I can handle it."

There was a short pause on the other end before the voice continued.

"...Fine. From what we’ve gathered so far, the attack on your headquarters was carried out by a newly returned Awakened from the Abyss."

Silence.

The old man’s eyes widened.

He understood.

Instantly.

Awakeners, in general, were nothing extraordinary.

They appeared every month and they entered the Abyss in hope to conquer it.

Most of them never returned.

The survival rate was abysmally low.

So low that, despite their potential, many people did not regard them as particularly valuable.

After all, what was the use of talent if it ended in death?

But everything changed if an Awakener returned from the Abyss.

Those who came back were no longer ordinary.

Even though they could only remain on the surface for a limited time during their first return, the power they brought back with them was overwhelming.

Terrifying.

Enough to shake the balance of an entire city.

Every family that possessed a returned Awakener became something more than just wealthy.

They became powerful.

Influential.

Untouchable.

These families formed the hidden backbone of the Federation.

The true rulers operating behind the scenes.

And now one of them had appeared and had targeted his company.

The old man’s fingers loosened.

The wine glass slipped from his hand.

Crash!

It shattered against the floor, crimson liquid spreading across the polished surface like spilled blood.

"Grandfather!" the young man and woman called out in unison.

He turned to face them, his expression grim.

"We have a problem," he said solemnly.

The weight of his words pressed down on them.

"I want both of you to activate your contacts immediately," he continued. "Find out who attacked our headquarters today."

"I want his identity."

"His background."

"Everything about his family."

"Also..." his eyes darkened, "...I want to know how he is connected to our company."

He paused for a moment before adding in a lower voice,

"Remember... he’s an Awakener."

The implication was clear.

This was not a normal enemy.

"If you handle this well," he said, glancing at them, "I wouldn’t mind handing my empire over to you."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the room.

The two stood frozen for a moment.

Then they sprang into action.

Both quickly pulled out their communicators, dialing contacts one after another.

This was their opportunity.

A chance they had been waiting for.

Outside, the old man entered his car, his expression still dark.

"To the Federation Headquarters," he instructed his driver.

The vehicle started immediately.

As it sped through the pristine streets of Brightspire, the old man began making calls one after another.

All his connections.

All his favors.

Everything he had accumulated over decades.

If he wanted to survive this storm he would have to use them all.

Even then...

It might not be enough.

Meanwhile, at the top floor of the Federation Headquarters, a group of officials sat around a large table.

Their expressions were solemn.

"What are we going to do?" a middle-aged woman asked, breaking the silence.

Before anyone else could respond, an elderly man dressed in an expensive suit leaned back in his chair with a sneer.

"Why are you even asking?" he said dismissively. "He killed so many innocent people. He should be arrested."

Arrested?

The room fell silent.

Not out of agreement but disbelief.

Several people turned to look at him as though he had just said something absurd.

Arrest an Awakener?

Who would do it?

And more importantly who could?

They all knew the situation.

They all understood what was really happening beneath the surface.

Just then, a middle-aged man leaned forward slightly, breaking the silence.

"Councilor," he said calmly, "are you going to lead the arrest yourself?"

The words landed like a hammer.

The old councilor froze.

The smug expression on his face disappeared instantly.