Chapter 31 : 𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖗𝖊 ?

𝕸𝖆𝖋𝖎𝖆'𝖘 𝕹𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖘

“I'm sorry Miss—no verification, no entry.” The voice cut in, in a clipped manner.

“Hey Mister. I've been here before—I just came to speak to Mr Hunt. He’s not expecting me, I know—it's just personal.”

“Also,” Junior added, stepping forward. He placed the bucket of shells reverently at his feet, like a ceremonial offering.

Straightening, he lifted his chin with childish dignity.

“We brought him a present. That’s gotta be worth something.”

Nevena squinted her eyes in disbelief, and nudged him aside gently.

“Look—we’re not threats. I'm just a tourist, and he's a local.” she added, her voice threading between hope and fear.

There was silence.

A long beat. The kind that could smother one's confidence.

“Does it mean we are sealed out?” Junior grumbled with a weary glance.

“I had my doubts from the onset” Nevena replied, her voice barely perceptible.

“Their loss—losers” Junior leaned toward the glass, making a scornful face.

A different voice crackled through. This one was sharper and more feminine.

“Kiddo—You’re currently being scanned for anomalies. Step away from the interface.”

“Jeez—Anomalies?”Junior jerked back, his eyes nearly popping out of their socket.

“Miss Nevena, hope I got my best angle” he masked his panic by striking a pose.

“You gotta be kidding me” Nevena rasped, rubbing her arms against the wind.

A faint mechanical click came from beneath the gate—like a vault locking.

The screen blinks off and they shifted their attention to the gate—two specks in front of a sprawling structure of glass and metal.

“This is definitely heaven” Junior gave a one-shouldered shrug, hugging his bucket closer.

“Remain where you are.” the digital voice instructed.

Somewhere inside the compound, a low humming sound purred—steady, fast, rising.

It was a kind of sound one needn't argue about ; A car.

The hum grew louder—then crested. Right from the compound, a convoy of sleek, hyper-clean quality SUVs rolled into view—with frightening precision.

Polished to a mirror-shine, gliding like shadows over the smooth concrete. Windows tinted so dark they mirrored the sky—a silent procession.

The lead SUV swept past—flawless. No hesitation. No slowing.

Nevena and Junior stepped instinctively to the side, the wind from the movement tugging at their clothes.

The second SUV rolled behind it, and inside—behind the smoked glass—he was there.

Antonio Hunt!

Nevena's eyes instinctively met the tinted window, as it passed in front of them, for a fraction of seconds, the glass dipped—just enough to reveal his face.

Behind the glass, Antonio turned his head and their eyes met.

A cold, fleeting gaze fixed right at her. No smile. No nod. No surprise.

Just a brief, unreadable flick of the eyes. Recognition.

Nevena's breath stilled and she took half a step forward. Her hand twitching at her side—unsure whether to raise it or not.

But then with…deliberate dismissal, the glass rolled back up.

And he was gone.

The car didn’t slow. Didn’t signal. Didn’t flinch.

No gesture. No acknowledgement. Just…gone.

“That was him,” Nevena murmured. Her voice cracked slightly. “He just passed.”

The final SUV trailed after—the convoy continuing on the road.

It disappeared around a sharp curve without a sound, swallowed by towering hedges and manicured desert flora.

Junior blinked in pure wonder, tilting his head.

“Wait—was that…?”

“Yeah,” Nevena said quietly, her chest hollow, like her lungs forgot how to stretch. “That was Mr Hunt.”

“And he didn't even acknowledge you”, Junior murmured with a downcast gaze.

A sudden faint mechanical click broke his sentence.

Turning, he realized that the green slit had snapped back to red, and the pedestal’s screen blinked dark.

The gate—which had remained open, just long enough to let the vehicles through—began to close with a soft hydraulic hiss.

“No, no, wait—” Junior stepped forward impulsively, cradling the bucket in both arms. “Let me just slip this in, before—”

As his foot skimmed the edge of the invisible threshold—

A force field buzzed against his shin, firm as a slap.

CLANG.

A sharp beam of red light sliced across the closing gates.

A barrier, bright and definite—like an electric fence hissing a warning, without needing contact.

“Gah—!” he stumbled back with a yelp, nearly dropping the bucket of shells.

“Junior!” Nevena lunged, steadying him.

“Whoa! Thanks” He acknowledged, hugging the bucket to his chest like a baby chick.

“I didn’t even touch anything!”

The gate sealed shut with a hiss and airtight thud.

A voice followed—firm and resolute,

> “Access denied. This system does not entertain unscheduled guests.”

“For future correspondence, schedule an appointment through the Hunt Official Line. No exceptions.”

A final tone chimed—like a corporate doorbell with no soul.

Then—silence.

The locks clicked with a satisfying finality—like the end of a transaction.

Junior stared at the matte-black gate, mouth open slightly—like it had just insulted his ancestors.

He looked down at the bucket in his hands, then up at the gate again—impenetrable, unmoved.

“So… that’s it? They really just closed it in our face,” he said.

“I was just trying to give them his shells—like a gratitude offering. People like gifts, right?”

Nevena didn’t respond. She just stood there, shoulders locked, arms folded tightly across her chest.

Junior glanced over, trying to read her silence.

“That was a little… extreme, don’t you think?” he asked carefully. “I mean—we came all the way up this hill, and got ignored like we’re mailboxes?”

“I told you—he only appears when he wishes,” she said flatly, letting her hands fall to her sides.

“This place was never going to let us in anyway.”

Junior let out a breath. “Well. That’s cold.”

They stood there, two figures framed by an empty road—facing twelve feet of engineered rejection.

Nevena exhaled sharply, “Come on—we’re leaving,” she muttered, turning back down the hill.

Junior adjusted the bucket, and gave one last look at the sealed gate, then turned.

They began walking back down the road, which twisted away like rejection itself.

Mid-walk, Nevena pulled Junior close to her and raked his hair.

“Next time we come with a missile....,since they like the Mafia style” she joked.

They both laughed—but it was the kind that didn’t reach the chest. Junior exhaled afterward, slow and bitter.

“Right on point, but I’m just thinking—if we had brought blood samples, they’d have let us in.”

Nevena gave him a look that was one part amused, two parts burnt out.

“You're still on that”. She clicked her tongue and quickened her pace.

Junior felt a pulse of static dance up his leg, and he immediately picked acceleration— trying to keep up with her long strides.

The shells clinked softly in the bucket with every step away.

☆☆☆𝕳𝕼 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖔𝖗𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊☆☆☆

✦✦ {12:15𝕻𝕸}✦✦

“Ma’am, with respect—this feels reactive. You’re planning a decoy raid without command approval again.” Sophia countered with urgency, arms crossed over her chest.

“What if the hotel stunt backfires?"

Breanna is seen sleeves rolled, leaning over a city grid, spread across the operation table.

Her jaw is tight, eyes locked on the {La Sirena Hotel} pin. A second marker line curves toward {El Oro Casino}.

Two out of Antonio's properties.

“Sophia, this is not an actual raid, rather a calculated misdirection—a sting.”