CHAPTER 200: CLOSURE!!

The murmurs rippled across the long table the moment the monk’s calm voice cut through the tension.

"We should agree with the kid."

The room froze.

The German woman snapped her gaze toward him. "Are you crazy?"

Others echoed in scattered whispers.

"Why should we agree to a boy?"

"He is barely thirty."

"Kill him and take what we need."

"Yes, why negotiate?"

Elias leaned back with a slow smirk curling on his lips. His eyes gleamed with amusement, almost delighted by the discord.

"What if he really melts the key?" he said lightly. The entire table fell into uneasy silence.

Basil’s voice finally emerged, rough and steady. "Speak, monk. What is it you see?"

Everyone turned.

The silent monk from Hong Kong, who rarely spoke even in the darkest meetings, finally lifted his head. His gaze was calm yet profound, like still water hiding an abyss beneath.

"The Sylven Forest in Haven," he said softly. "Do you truly believe it is a place we can conquer?"

The room stilled.

He continued, voice steady, tone emotionless yet heavy with reason.

"The forest is deep, old, and alive. It is thick enough to block the sun. It is forbidden by the laws of Haven, guarded by the military. Air routes are impossible. The moment a helicopter enters, the government will know."

Several hunters exchanged troubled glances.

"We would have to go by land, most likely water. The terrain will not allow wheels. Even trained soldiers fail in the inner forest."

He folded his hands.

"You think the boy is harmless. You think treasure is waiting for us. But tell me... even if he holds a key, can he walk into that forest alone and make it out alive?"

A few went pale.

The monk’s voice lowered.

"Mendoza is gone. The cartel division shattered. Our numbers are already thinning."

Silence.

"Think. If we try to force the key from him in Star Harbor, bloodshed will alert every authority. If we try to track him in the city, we lose the element of surprise."

He looked around the table slowly.

"And if we spill blood in the forest, we will spill our own. Wild beasts. Hidden tribes. Terrain that eats men alive."

No one dared interrupt.

"We do not need to be violent yet. We go with him. We let the heir open the vault. And when the treasure is ours... we exile him in the forest."

A chilling pause.

The logic hung in the air like a blade.

For the first time in years, every treasure hunter actually listened.

Elias straightened, impressed. Then he clapped loudly, the sharp sound echoing across the hall.

"Do we need to vote then?" he asked with mocking confidence.

No one spoke.

No hands raised.

Elias grinned widely. "No need then. It is settled."

He rose from his seat, adjusting his coat.

"We will meet next in Haven. Sylven River Dam. Bring your best hunters, your animal experts, your trackers. Prepare for wildlife, thorns, and ancient ground. I will send the message to Star Harbor."

Chairs pushed back.

The German woman scoffed under her breath, then swept out of the hall.

One by one the rest followed.

Basil walked side by side with Elias and the monk toward the exit corridor.

The monk bowed once. "We shall meet soon, Mr. Flinch. Mr. Jefferson."

He slipped away silently.

The corridor dimmed as the torches flickered.

Elias stopped and stretched leisurely. "What is it, Basil? You have been quiet since the boy’s name was mentioned."

Basil’s eyes were distant, calculating, almost haunted.

"I do not know. Something feels wrong. All of this... feels wrong."

Elias scoffed lightly. "You overthink. He is just a rich kid. A CEO with a pretty face and a famous last name. Money and status do not help in the forest."

Basil smirked faintly, but it did not reach his eyes.

"You are right," he said aloud.

But deep inside...

Basil Jefferson knew something the others did not.

Something he prayed the hunters never discovered.

Miles Sterling was not just a wealthy heir.

Not just Timothy’s grandson.

Miles Sterling was the Ghost

. The Graveyard’s living nightmare.

And the treasure hunters...

were walking straight into the jaws of the predator they believed was prey.

....

Star Harbor- Cinder Square

The office was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and Miles leaned back in his chair staring at the ceiling as Ray’s voice crackled softly through the earpiece.

"What are you trying to say?" Ray asked.

Miles exhaled slowly, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. "How does it feel, Ray, when your entire life is controlled by someone else? When every step you take was already decided long before you even learned to walk in the streets? Now that I think about it, all I feel is rage. Like I am a puppet tied to strings I cannot see."

He paused, jaw tightened.

"The old commander knew everything about me. My real name. My family. My bloodline. Everything. It feels like he played his role in a script written by someone else, then stepped off the stage. And I am left here, wondering who the puppeteer truly is. My grandfather? Someone even deeper in the shadows? Is he alive or dead? And how long am I supposed to dance like this?"

Ray was silent for a moment, then sighed deeply. "I understand. And it is important to find that person. But listen to me carefully. Life itself is a play, Miles. All of us are puppets, tied to fate or creator or destiny, whatever you choose to call it. That does not mean we stop living. I raised you, trained you, and I watched you grow. When I retired you from Graveyard, I did it because I wanted you to live a life we never allowed you to have. A normal life."

Miles closed his eyes.

Ray continued, voice softer. "We took your childhood away. That guilt stayed with me for years. But when you found your family again, when you walked back into a life with a mother waiting for you... I was happy. Truly happy. What I did not know was that even that reunion might have been part of someone’s plan. But I believe this: you will find your closure, you will find what you seek. Just take it slow."

Miles chuckled. "You have really become old. Where is the Ray who used to hit me with sticks during training?"

Ray laughed. "My time is gone. My bones creak. My back hurts. I can barely fight a pillow these days."

"See? That is what I am talking about," Miles said, amused. "Anyway, I will keep searching."

"You should," Ray said gently. "But remember your family too. Remember you are no longer alone. And remember this: we are comrades. Graveyard owes you everything. The new recruits read your missions like legends. Anything you need... we are one call away."

Miles smiled faintly. "Same goes for you."

"And also," Ray added, clearing his throat, "stop sending money every month. We have enough funds."

Miles snorted. "Just think of it as a gift from my mother for raising me."

Ray sighed helplessly. "You stubborn boy. Take care of yourself. I will send you the full terrain map of Sylven."

"Thanks, Ray."

The call ended.

June, who had been quietly working near the sofa, glanced up. "He sounds like a nice man."

Miles looked at her with raised brows. "You are saying that because you were never trained under him."

June laughed. "Is he that strict?"

"He is strict enough to scare grown men," Miles replied. "But yes, there is a soft side. Somewhere in there. Very deep."

June nodded, then tapped her laptop. "So, boss... after the president’s visit, Sterling Enterprises is trending everywhere. We are gaining a lot of popularity. We already got new clients, both businesses and individual customers."

Miles smiled. "Good thing we are not publicly listed yet. Otherwise the president would be accusing himself of manipulating the stock market."

June chuckled.

Then she blinked at her screen. "Looks like we just received the terrain map. And... there are notes too."

Miles leaned forward. "Let me see."

June handed over the laptop. Miles’s eyes narrowed with keen interest as he scanned the detailed sketches of pathways, cliffs, trap zones, abandoned routes, river drift directions, and hidden safe spots. His lips slowly curved.

June noticed. "May I ask something, boss?"

"Ask."

"You have been in that forest before, right? Then why do you need the map?"

Miles rotated the laptop lightly in his hand. "Because I only survived using one route back then. I never explored anything outside it. But with this..." his voice lowered, and a calculating spark lit his eyes, "I can plan the entire terrain in our favor. Every path. Every exit. Every trap."

June watched him, and the smile creeping onto his face told her enough.

She laughed softly. "I get it, boss. You are planning something very sneaky."

Miles tapped the map. "Not sneaky, June. Strategic."

She smirked. "Of course. Strategic."

He leaned back again, eyes lingering on the screen.

The hunters were coming.

And the forest they believed would swallow Miles whole...

Would soon become their grave.

The WEB Base, Norway

Inside a glass-walled negotiation chamber, Thea stood gracefully before a foreign client. Her posture was elegant, her voice measured, every word delivered with the poised confidence of someone who knew she held power in her fingertips.

But then her phone buzzed.

A name flashed on the screen.

She froze for half a second.

Thea smiled politely at the client.

"Excuse me, gentleman. I will return shortly."

She walked out of the room with soft but purposeful steps, heels barely making a sound on the polished floor. Once she reached a quiet steel corridor away from cameras, she pressed the phone to her ear, voice dropping into something far colder.

"Sir?"

Basil’s tired voice crackled through.

"I want to know what he is planning."

Thea leaned against the metal wall, lowering her tone further. "Sir, I do not think this is a good idea. Last time I moved, the situation in Citadel still remains... unexplained. If I take action again, the cover will be blown. I cannot jeopardise the Grandmaster’s plans."

There was a long breath on the other side. A frustrated one.

"I understand," Basil answered. "Then I will look for someone else."

Thea paused, thinking quickly. "I will try to find someone who could help you. Someone not connected to WEB. Someone whose trail cannot be traced back to us."

Basil’s voice softened with relief. "That would be a great help."

"I need to go now," Thea whispered. "Clients must not suspect anything."

The line went silent.

The call ended.

She lowered the phone slowly, her expression shifting from dutiful calm to something calculating.

Behind her, the servers hummed on.

And somewhere far away in London, Basil Jefferson now moved his next piece on the board... unaware that the storm surrounding Miles Sterling was already gathering strength.