Unholy Player-Chapter 106: Aerial Surveillance

The office was simple, yet bright—sunlight poured in through tall double-pane windows that lined the walls. One side of the room was occupied by an imposing, double-wide bookshelf filled with thick volumes, their spines worn and aged. Beside it stood a large ceramic pot holding a slender, leafless plant that resembled a miniature tree, more sculpture than flora. At the center of the room stood a broad, well-organized desk.

"Come, take a seat," Henry said, gesturing to the chairs in front of the desk before settling into his own. Though his posture remained composed, the fatigue in his eyes betrayed him. The streaks of white in his hair had spread further, and his once-warm hazel eyes looked dull and washed out. Faint dark circles under his eyes hinted at long nights with little or no sleep.

"I assume you’re here about your mother, right?" Henry asked with a deep sigh. The situation had already spiraled far beyond his control.

"Before that, I need to say something," Victor interjected, unable to keep quiet. "Did you check the latest power rankings?"

"No? What am I supposed to see?" Henry replied, raising an eyebrow at his son’s sudden question.

"Just check it. You’ll understand," Victor said with a grin. As his father turned toward the monitor with curiosity, Victor casually picked up the desk phone and dialed. "Hey, Margaret. Send us three coffees—two bitter, one overloaded with sugar. Thanks."

Henry frowned at his son but said nothing, turning back to scan the latest submitted data. "Hmm? So, you got first place, huh?" He said with a smile, glancing at Adyr before continuing to examine the results.

He watched the endurance test with mild surprise. But when the strength evaluation came up, his eyes widened.

"Boy, how many Sparks have you captured so far?" He asked, unable to hold back.

"4, including the one I used for my evolution," Adyr replied calmly.

"4?!" Victor shouted before his father could react. He’d assumed there were only three. That alone had been shocking—but four?

Henry, meanwhile, laughed sincerely. "You’ve exceeded my expectations," he said. After reviewing the full report, he leaned back in his chair. "Looks like we can now consider you one of our main units."

"That’s exactly what I want," Adyr said with a quiet smile. Then, without wasting time, he stated the real reason for his visit. "I want you to deploy me outside. I’m going after the Cannibal."

Henry frowned. "I understand your concern, but that’s something I can’t approve. At least, not yet."

All the data about Adyr’s progression was right in front of him, and while it was shocking, it was also worrying. In a short amount of time, he had achieved remarkable power and become the research team’s most promising asset. Sending someone like him into danger recklessly would be a loss for everyone. Perhaps after he grew a bit stronger—something Henry was sure would happen—they could revisit the discussion.

Adyr didn’t lose his composure. "It has to be now," he said. Then, locking eyes with Henry, he added, "You said—promised—that Marielle would be safe out there. As if she were within the city walls. But she came back missing an arm. And only because the Cannibal decided to let her go."

Henry’s body tensed at the words. The guilt in his eyes was impossible to hide. But Adyr didn’t let up.

"And to me, that says only one thing. The city isn’t safe either. Sorry, Mr. Bates, but if this place is dangerous enough to leave my sister and Marielle in constant risk, then I’m done sitting around playing this little game."

He spoke plainly, without emotion.

Who Henry Bates was didn’t matter. For Adyr, people only held value so long as they were useful. And if Bates wouldn’t serve his purpose when needed most, then his attention—and his presence—meant nothing.

Henry and Victor stared at him, taken aback. It was the first time they had seen him like this. Not angry—just cold. Far too cold.

But they didn’t find it strange. His mother had just returned from a place where she should’ve died. She came back scarred, not only missing an arm, but marked in a way that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

So it was only natural that Adyr had changed, too.

Henry let out a long breath and said, "I know I’ve lost your trust, but believe me, even if I let you go, there’s little to nothing you can actually do."

Yes, Adyr was strong. Yes, he possessed strange abilities drawn from his Sparks. But the STF units the Cannibal had wiped out had been strong too.

"The enemy isn’t someone we can just charge at and kill."

Adyr leaned back in the chair, relaxed, composed.

"Just give me the information. The location of the last attack, where the STF unit went down, the Cannibal’s last known sighting, and any estimates on their headquarters."

There was no hesitation in his voice. He wasn’t asking for help—he was demanding data. He didn’t want to be assigned to a mission. He wanted to go hunting.

He had spent days working for the government, sharing everything he had discovered about the other world. And now, he wanted the same in return. He wanted their knowledge—whatever they knew, he expected them to hand it over.

In exchange, he wouldn’t bring them merit.

He would bring them the Cannibal’s head.

"Mr. Bates. With or without your information, I’m going after him. That’s not something you can stop," Adyr said calmly, his voice steady. "So just make it easier. Give me what I need, and in return, I’ll give you security for your city. I’ll bring back the head of your terrorist."

When Henry looked into his eyes, there wasn’t a trace of doubt. What Adyr said didn’t sound like a plan.

It sounded like a certainty.

For a moment, Henry didn’t feel like he was speaking to a young man. It felt like speaking to Rhys, the man who had just been in his office.

Cold. Composed. Unshakably confident. And most of all, someone whose words were never far from reality.

But still, Adyr was too valuable to risk. So Henry tried to change his mind.

"Okay, but I need to be clear—finding the Cannibal’s location isn’t easy. That’s why our hands are tied. His team is hiding deep in the heart of a radiation zone. Every drone we’ve sent has crashed before getting close, due to technical failure. The terrain is rough, exposed to ambushes, and nearly impossible to scout from the ground. You’ll give up before you even get close to him."

He delivered the facts to discourage him. But the only response he got was Adyr’s calm, unwavering smile.

"So I only need aerial surveillance, huh?" Adyr said, and stood up, pulling off his shirt.

Victor and Henry both stiffened, unsure of what he was doing—until the sound began. A sickening, grinding noise, like bones being forced to shift and split, echoed through the room.

From Adyr’s back, two long, pale bone structures emerged with a slow, unnatural stretch. Each extended nearly two meters before being rapidly coated in layers of taut muscle and skin, then crowned with gleaming white feathers, as pure and cold as snow.

Adyr gave the wings a small flap, letting them settle into place before turning to Henry with a quiet laugh.

"I think I’m the most suitable man in your hands for this job."

There was no room left for refusal.