Chapter 177 The Mysterious Mr. K
The business card had arrived the morning after she claimed the Abyss Fights championship.
A knock on her hotel room door, then a tall man in a perfectly tailored suit and dark sunglasses handed it to her. His shoulders were broad, his posture disciplined, every movement crisp—like someone trained to guard lives, not just stand watch.
He said he was there on behalf of a certain "Mr. K."
According to him, K had watched her fight every night for seven consecutive evenings. He admired her performance. He wanted to know if she would consider going to Sulien to become a resident fighter at one of his clubs.
Amelia pressed for details, but the man only said that K's identity and position in Sulien were… special. Too special to explain. The only thing he made clear was that if she agreed, a private jet would be waiting within the hour to take her directly to meet K. And if she accepted the position, whatever terms she demanded—money, conditions—K would grant them without hesitation.
Any terms. Any amount.
Amelia lowered her gaze to the card. Heavy black stock, a single embossed gold letter "K" in the center, catching the light with a subtle metallic sheen. It radiated privilege and mystery. Whoever could make such an offer had power—real power—at least within Sulien.
But she had no interest in fighting for someone else. Abyss Fights had been about reclaiming a stolen artifact, nothing more. She refused without a second thought, snapping a quick photo of the card and uploading it to her cloud storage.
Now, her eyes lingered on that image on her laptop screen.
Michael's search had stalled. He was navigating a foreign country with no local knowledge. Maybe… maybe K could help find his grandmother.
She tried a few texts.
[Mr. K, I don't know if you've changed your number or if you still remember me.]
[I'm Bald Eagle. Two years ago, you sent someone to find me after the Abyss boxing match and asked if I'd work for you in Sulien.]
[I'm sorry I turned you down then, but now I have something I need your help with.]
[I'd appreciate it if you could help me.]
She didn't expect much. Even if K hadn't changed his number and did remember her, most people would find such a sudden message strange—maybe even ignore it outright. But she had no other options. She'd never met Michael's grandmother, couldn't sense her presence, couldn't track her down herself.
Contacting K was all she had.
To her surprise, a reply came within fifteen minutes.
It read: [Bald Eagle, hearing from you makes me happy. I've been waiting for you to reach out, though I didn't expect it to take two years.]
The tone was light, with a hint of amusement. Unexpected.
K: [So, Bald Eagle, you need my help? I told you once—if you came to Sulien to work for me, any terms you name would be yours. That promise still stands, even after two years.]
She drew in a sharp breath.
She typed back: [I'm sorry, but my real identity is a high school student in Celestria, senior year. I can't accept a position as a resident fighter in Sulien. But if you're willing to help me, whether or not it works out, I'll remember the favor.]
Minutes passed before his next message.
[So the girl who dominated the ring as Bald Eagle is just a high school kid? That makes things more interesting. Tell me what you need. Don't worry about whether it's possible—if I take it on, it will be done.]
Confident. Almost unnervingly so.
What kind of man could guarantee success without even asking for details?
Her curiosity about K deepened.
She sent a string of messages.
[My friend's grandmother was staying at a care facility in Sulien, receiving treatment. Five days ago, she vanished.]
[In those five days, my friend has searched everywhere—reviewed road surveillance, checked passenger lists for flights and ferries—but found nothing.]
[I believe she's still in Sulien, deliberately hidden. But we don't know who took her or why.]
[As Celestria citizens, our knowledge of Sulien is limited. Restrictions on foreigners make searching difficult.]
[So I'm asking for your help. We need to find her fast.]
Time was running out.
Michael's grandmother suffered from primary pulmonary artery paralysis. Every week she needed targeted therapy to survive. Without it, her heart and lungs could fail. Michael had said she was too weak now to endure the treatment, that even if they found her, she might not survive long.
But circumstances had changed.
Trevor, a leading medical researcher, was applying to enroll her in a trial for a new drug. If they found her, she could be brought home immediately for treatment.
K's reply was almost startling in its simplicity.
K: [No problem. Send me your friend's grandmother's details.]
So easy. Too easy.
She responded quickly. [Thank you.]
K: [Save your thanks until I've found her. I'll contact you when I do.]
She sent every scrap of information she had, then shut off her phone and leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.
Monday passed. Tuesday morning, too. Amelia waited for K's message, knowing that no matter who he was, finding one person in a country took time. Still, she kept glancing at her phone.
In the south of Celestria, a landslide had struck. News outlets filled their feeds with coverage, pushing the story of Bald Eagle's identity into the background. That was good—if she hadn't agreed to interviews, reporters might have shown up at her school.
The exposure meant little to her. Quentin, however, had been acting strangely. Ever since he learned who she was, he'd been watching her in class. Every time she caught him, he'd look away, guilty. Irritating.
By midday, she returned to the Martinez family's estate, intending to nap.
Then pain—sharp, stabbing—hit her temple like a needle driven into bone.
She sucked in a breath, a muffled sound escaping her throat.
She knew instantly where it came from. Her face drained of color.
Vaughn was in trouble.