A few years later, at a Bluemoon Group press conference, the acting CEO declared that the company would now fall under the permanent authority of the Elder Council.Ryder, the once untouchable Alpha, surrendered every title he bore, then slipped from the world as if erased.The media erupted with speculation. Some said he'd gone mad, others swore he was already dead, and a few claimed he'd gone into seclusion in some far-off place.Yet in the quiet coastal town of Norvane, locals now and then caught sight of a tall, solitary figure.Every day, he walked into St. Corvinia's Cathedral Cemetery, carrying a bouquet of fresh evening primroses. He would place them before a spotless white headstone. Then, from sunrise to sundown, he kept his silent vigil at its side.The townsfolk came to know him as the mysterious man.The florist said to his wife, "That foreigner came again. Every single day for five years, he's bought evening primroses, never once breaking the pattern."She sighed s
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