Chapter 115 Fake master

Chapter 115: Chapter 115 Fake master

Meanwhile, back inside the bunker, Luna crouched beside the badly wounded Malcolm—or rather, the man everyone believed was Malcolm. Blood covered his clothes, his face was bruised from the fall, and his breathing had become uneven. Whatever confidence he had displayed earlier had completely disappeared.

Luna stared down at him. "You know, I promised to get your head." She placed one hand over her hip. "And it’s going to be mine. No one is going to stop me from getting it."

A sleek dagger suddenly appeared in her hand, and she twirled it casually between her fingers.

Even while wounded, the man still managed to speak. "So you’re their savior?" His voice was weak, but the arrogance was still there. "Is this what they put you up to? You came here to rescue all of them?" He scoffed, then gagged as pain burned through his throat. "Is that who you are? Santa Claus?"

Luna stared at him, then smiled—it wasn’t a kind smile. "I didn’t come here for them." She took another step closer. "Don’t be stupid." Her voice became colder. "You have what’s mine, so I came here to take it back."

Before he could answer, Luna stepped directly onto his hand. Crack! The man’s fingers twisted beneath the heel of her boot. He screamed—or at least, he tried to. The pain was so intense that only a strangled sound escaped his throat. Luna looked down at him without sympathy.

The man tried to move, but he couldn’t. That was when Luna noticed something strange—his powers weren’t working. The same powers that had supposedly allowed him to suppress people inside the bunker had suddenly disappeared. Completely. Luna’s eyes narrowed. Interesting. What had she done to him? Whatever hacking the system had completed hadn’t simply taken control of the traps—it seemed to have affected the entire environment around him.

The man suddenly forced himself to speak. "If you do anything, you won’t make it out of here alive." He swallowed painfully. "Both you and your men will be butchered by my armies." He tried to sound threatening. "Think carefully before you act."

Luna stared at him, then blinked. "Really?" She sounded almost impressed. "Cute."

The man frowned.

Luna leaned closer. "I didn’t know that could happen." Her smile disappeared. "But here’s the problem." She lifted the dagger, bringing the blade close to his chest. "I don’t need you alive." She paused. "And you breathing is making me want to skin you alive so badly."

The man’s eyes widened. "Don’t kill me!" His body began trembling. "Please!" The dagger moved closer. "Don’t!" He shuddered so badly that his entire body nearly collapsed. "Please don’t kill me!"

Luna stopped and stared at him. For several seconds, she said nothing.

What the hell? This was supposed to be Malcolm—the terrifying leader everyone in the bunker feared, the man whose name alone had made people lower their voices, the man who supposedly had powerful awakened under his command. Yet here he was, trembling beneath her boot. He couldn’t even stand. His powers weren’t working. And now he was begging for his life. Luna’s expression slowly changed from murderous to confused. "What is wrong with you?"

The man looked at her. "I’ll tell you what you want!" His voice shook. "Just let me live." He swallowed. "Please. I’m begging you from the bottom of my heart."

Luna scoffed. "I don’t need your heart." She pulled the dagger away slightly, then studied him. This wasn’t the man they had described—not even close. She had expected a monster. Instead, she had found a frightened civilian wearing someone else’s identity. It was disappointing. Luna couldn’t stop the annoyed growl that escaped her. "So this is why you never used your powers."

The man looked away.

Luna’s eyes narrowed. "But if you’re not Malcolm, then who the hell are you?" She glanced toward the door. Her thoughts immediately returned to the enormous golden-armored figure, the powerful guards, the strange hierarchy, and the people who had obeyed this man without question. Something wasn’t adding up. If this man was fake, then what happened to the real Malcolm? And why hadn’t anyone noticed?

Luna lowered the dagger slightly. "Are you really what you claim to be, Malcolm?" She tilted her head. "Or is this some joke I don’t understand?"

The man’s body trembled again. "I’m not Malcolm."

Luna’s eyebrows rose. There it was. The answer.

The man swallowed. "I’m just a normal civilian here." Luna stared at him as he continued quickly, "One morning, I was supposed to serve the master his usual tea." His voice became weaker. "But when I arrived, he was already dead."

Luna’s expression remained blank.

"I didn’t know what to do." The man looked terrified as he remembered it. "So I pretended to be him." A pause. "At first, I only wanted to survive." His lips trembled. "But after a while..." He lowered his eyes. "I started enjoying it."

Luna’s lips curled into a disdainful smile. "What a conniving bastard." She shook her head. "So you’ve been playing everyone this entire time."

The man didn’t answer. Luna looked at him with disgust. She couldn’t believe it—he had somehow managed to fool an entire bunker full of people. They had feared him, obeyed him, offered him everything. And not one of them had apparently realized that the person sitting on that golden throne wasn’t their real leader.

"What are they?" Luna muttered. "Five people? Ten?" She looked toward the massive chamber. "How did none of them notice?"

The man’s face tightened. Luna’s mind raced. Perhaps the real Malcolm had only recently died. Perhaps this man had only recently taken his place. That would explain why he wasn’t completely comfortable with the identity. It also explained why he had been so desperate to prove himself.

Luna looked back at him. "But wait." Her expression became serious. "How did you know about the defenses?" She pointed the dagger toward him. "And how long have you been wearing this identity?"

The man’s lips parted. He knew there was no point lying anymore—he had already been exposed, he had lost control of his chamber, his powers weren’t functioning, and the woman standing over him had already demonstrated that she wasn’t someone he could manipulate. So he began talking. "I started just last week."

Luna’s eyes narrowed. "Last week?"

He nodded. "I came up to give the master his usual cup of tea." His voice shook. "But he was already dead."

Luna froze. The words immediately caught her attention. "The tea." She looked at him. "So he died after you brought him the drink?"

"I don’t know exactly when he died." The man shook his head. "It could have been minutes after I left."

Luna’s eyes narrowed further. "And you didn’t think to investigate?" The man’s face turned pale. "You didn’t think that maybe your drink had been switched?" He stared at her. Luna continued, "Maybe someone wanted him dead." She tapped the dagger lightly against her palm. "Maybe the person who killed him expected the poison to finish the job."

The man’s expression changed—fear spread across his face. Luna immediately saw that she had struck something. "You never thought about that, did you?" He began breathing faster. "If the master was poisoned, then whoever did it might still be watching." Luna leaned closer. "And now that you’re parading around as him..." She smiled. "They might think the poison failed." The man’s entire body stiffened. "And if they believe that..." Luna paused. "They might come back for you."

The man looked horrified. Luna almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But she had other priorities.

"So someone wanted Malcolm dead." She stood. "That’s interesting." She began pacing slowly. "In their mind, the plan failed because you’re still walking around pretending to be him." She glanced at him. "But don’t worry." Her smile returned. "I’ll let them finish what they started."

The man’s eyes widened. "What?"

"I didn’t come here to solve your murder mystery." Luna waved the dagger casually. "I’m here for the stockpile." She pointed toward the storage area. "So show me where everything is."

The man stared at her. "You mean the provisions?"

"Obviously." Luna rolled her eyes. "What else would I mean?" She crouched slightly. "And if you’re useful, I might leave you alive long enough to enjoy your little lie."

The man hesitated. Then, trembling, he raised one hand and pointed toward the right. "There." He looked desperate. "There is where everything is." He swallowed. "But if you take it, we will die."

Luna slowly turned toward him and flashed the dagger. "Don’t make me change my mind, dude." Her voice was calm. "I’m raiding everything." She pointed toward the enormous storage area. "How you’re going to survive afterward is your business." She straightened. "You’re the new leader, aren’t you?"

The man looked miserable.

"Fake leader," Luna corrected. "You don’t only get to enjoy the luxury." She walked toward the storage area. "Solving problems like this is part of being a leader." She glanced over her shoulder. "Even a fake one."

The man swallowed. "You don’t understand." Luna stopped. He pointed toward a completely ordinary-looking door. "That door."

Luna stared at it. "What’s inside?"

"The entire provision storage." His voice shook. "The whole place survives because of what’s behind that door."

Luna’s eyes immediately lit up. Perfect. She walked toward it. The man tried to move after her, but his body refused to cooperate. "Luna..." She ignored him. "Please don’t do this." She reached the door. "Those supplies belong to everyone."

Luna placed her hand on the knob. "They’re mine now." She twisted it. The door clicked. Because the traps and security systems were already under her control, nothing attacked her—no alarm, no hidden weapon, no electric shock, nothing. Luna pushed the door open. A cold current of air swept across her face. She stepped inside. And then she stopped.