Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

Before them lay a pile of corpses.

Skulls were scattered everywhere. The ground was littered with bodies, some not fully decomposed, their expressions twisted and horrifying. The place was so grim and bizarre that even an adult would be scared witless, let alone two children.

Dylan Grant led Elmer Grant forward, one small step at a time. Elmer kept bumping into the corpses on the ground, his terrified crying incessant. The two cautiously circled the area, but they didn’t find a single scrap of food, not even a drop of water.

Dylan Grant’s young face was grim. His expression was blank as he stared intently at the sea of corpses.

Elmer tugged on his hand. "Brother, we can’t find anything to eat. What do we do?"

"They... they want us to eat human flesh and drink human blood."

At these words, Elmer frantically shook his head. "I won’t eat it! I’ll starve to death before I eat that!"

Dylan Grant looked at him. "Elmer, we only have one way out now. The question is, do you have the guts to do it?"

"As long as I don’t have to eat human flesh, I’ll do anything you say."

Dylan tilted his head back. "Luckily, this place is open to the sky. If it were enclosed, our only choice would be to eat... that. But since it’s open, I have a way to climb out."

"What’s the plan?"

"We’ll pile these bodies up. I’ll boost you onto the wall, and then you can pull me up. It’s our only option."

Elmer’s face went deathly pale, and a cold sweat broke out all over his body.

"Brother, do we really have to do this?"

Dylan nodded. "Yes."

"Then... I’ll do it! I have to get out of here alive to see Mommy and Daddy!"

Trembling, the two boys squatted beside the bodies. They averted their gazes, trying to suppress the overwhelming terror in their hearts. They were too small, so they had to lift one end of a corpse together, then move to the other end, making slow, painstaking progress.

The sky gradually darkened. Their progress was agonizingly slow, but they were advancing, bit by bit.

When extreme fear becomes familiar, it turns to numbness.

Eventually, even as the two boys continued their work in the dark, they no longer felt the same shock and terror as they had at first sight.

They had already gone two days and a night without eating. The large men had promised them food, but it was clear they were meant to eat the corpses.

Such a cruel method was seared into the minds of the two Grant boys forever.

Another entire night passed.

Elmer passed out from exhaustion, and Dylan himself was about to lose consciousness.

The two boys huddled tightly together. Dylan looked at his unconscious brother as silent, clear tears streamed down his little face, gathering at his chin. He wiped them away with his sleeve, his vision blurring.

Their hands reeked of corpses, a particularly foul stench.

A new day dawned, the sky slowly brightening.

The pile of bodies was high enough. He struggled to wake Elmer.

Stepping on the hundreds of corpses beneath them, Dylan boosted his brother up onto the wall.

Perhaps the will to survive is just that powerful. The moment he was straddling the top of the wall, a bit of clarity returned to Elmer.

He grabbed both of Dylan’s hands and hauled him up.

The two children sat on the wall, looking back at the corpses in the yard, then down at the height to the ground below.

To them, it was terrifyingly high.

But they were not afraid.

"Elmer, slowly take off your shirt. We’ll tie it to mine. I’ll hold on to our makeshift rope, and you can lower yourself down. There will still be a bit of a drop, but you won’t get badly injured."

"Brother, what about you?"

"You spread the shirts on the ground, and I’ll jump," Dylan said, tying the knots.

Then, he had Elmer take hold of the rope.

"Brother, let me hold it for you while you go down."

Dylan snapped, "I’m the older brother, so my word is final! Get down there, now! Don’t you want to live?"

Elmer instantly scrambled down the line of shirts.

Dylan then leaped down. The consequence was a twisted ankle that sent a piercing pain through him. He’d also scraped a large, bleeding gash on his knee.

"Brother, you’re hurt!"

"I can’t really walk. Give me a hand."

Elmer quickly helped him up. The two small children made their way deeper into the island, step by painful step.

After walking for a long time, they were overjoyed to find a tree bearing small, unfamiliar fruit.

Elmer climbed the tree and picked some. He wiped one on a clean spot on his undershirt and handed it to Dylan. "Brother, eat!"

"You eat too."

The two of them rested there for a while, eating a good number of the fruits, which was enough to fill their stomachs for the time being.

Elmer’s heart ached for him. He placed Dylan’s foot on his own lap. "Let me massage it for you. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it weren’t for me. Brother, why do you think they’re doing this to us? They even killed all the teachers... Our teacher had just had a baby." As he spoke, the little boy began to choke on his sobs.

"This is just how people are. Their main targets are the two of us, and Mommy and Daddy. Elmer, by the time Mommy and Daddy come to rescue us, we have to become strong. Strong enough that no one can ever bully us again."

With tears glistening in his eyes, he nodded.

Afraid of losing their only food source, Dylan decided they would stay there for a few nights. Once his foot was better, they would search for water and food elsewhere.

The two of them dragged over nearby branches and logs, piling them together to build a passable shelter that looked like a dog kennel.

It was called a kennel because it was only about that size—just a bit taller, with a roof they had fashioned from weeds and stray planks. Lying down side-by-side, the two of them fit just perfectly.

Lying there side by side, the two brothers clung to each other for warmth.

When Nora Ainsworth learned that the woman sent to Grestin to impersonate her had been shot and injured, she knew it had all been a diversion.

The two of them, accompanied by four bodyguards, arrived at Luna Ainsworth’s mansion.

After being led into the living room by the butler, Luna Ainsworth and Claire Sinclair stood up to greet them, their faces wreathed in smiles.

"You must be Quentin. You’re so grown up! I remember you were still just a little boy when I visited Alveria. I’ve seen you in the newspapers, but it’s been such a long time since we’ve seen each other."

Quentin Grant’s expression remained unchanged as he smiled. "Yes. I was quite young then, so I don’t really remember you. But I’ve often heard my mother mention you and Godmother, and how guilty she felt toward you both. This is my girlfriend, Nora Ainsworth."

Luna Ainsworth extended a hand and shook Nora’s. "Come, have a seat."

Claire Sinclair acted perfectly gracious. "I already met them when I was in Alveria. We got along quite well."

’Even though her heart was breaking,’ Nora still forced herself to suppress her rage. "Yes, it was certainly a... ’pleasant’ time."

"Are you here to handle company business this time?" Claire Sinclair asked, feigning ignorance.

Quentin shook his head. "I’m here traveling with Nora."

"Did your two sons come along?" Claire’s expression was perfectly natural as she asked. She even turned to Luna Ainsworth. "You wouldn’t believe it, Quentin’s twin boys are just the coolest."

Quentin Grant and Nora Ainsworth had already seen the news from Fravia: six kindergarten teachers shot and killed in Alveria, sixty-four children missing, including the Grant family’s two sons. The latest update was that sixty-two of the children had successfully returned home. Only the two Grant boys were still gone. It seemed all of this news had been deliberately blocked from reaching Valeria.