Chapter 35:the hidden plot

Rain pelted the cracked windows of the abandoned warehouse, each droplet like tiny hammers on metal. Shadows stretched and flickered across the concrete floor. Derek stood at the center, hood up, leather jacket damp, hair plastered to his forehead in chaotic spikes. Every movement he made was deliberate, controlled, predator-like. The man kneeling before him—a critical link in Red Rose’s network—had been caught trying to funnel bomb plans to unknown accomplices.

“You’ve been a slippery one,” Derek said quietly, pacing in slow circles. The villain, a tall man with scars etched across his jawline, tried to meet his gaze but couldn’t. “Every move, every conversation… I tracked it all. And now,” Derek bent down, lifting a chipped ceramic plate from the ground, the metal fork balanced on it like a scalpel. “Now… we talk.”

The villain’s grin was nervous, cracking slightly. “You think you can scare me, kid? I’ve survived worse. You’re nothing.”

Derek tilted his head, letting the corner of his mouth curl into a faint, cold smile. “There are different kinds of pain,” he said softly. Then, with a sudden motion, he dragged the fork across the plate. A horrible, screeching noise filled the warehouse, high-pitched and grating. The sound was like fingernails on a chalkboard amplified a hundred times, vibrating through the man’s bones.

“What… what is that?” the villain stammered, sweat beading his brow. His voice cracked under the tension. Derek didn’t answer. Instead, he continued scratching the fork in uneven, jagged lines across the plate, each screech timed to make the man flinch anew.

“You’ll find,” Derek said, crouching so their eyes met, “some pain doesn’t require a blade. But it still burrows under your skin.” He moved in close, whispering just above the man’s ear, letting the sound of the fork echo in his head. The villain’s hands shot to cover his ears.

“You… you can’t—” he gasped. “I’ve been trained. I… I can survive anything!”

“Survive? Maybe,” Derek replied, calm and surgical. “But endure?” Another screech of the fork. The villain recoiled violently. “That’s another story entirely.”

Derek circled him, moving like a shadow, tapping the fork in staccato bursts against the plate, each screech slicing through the villain’s resolve. “Confess,” Derek said, voice quiet but firm. “Or enjoy the full orchestra.”

The villain’s knees buckled. “Okay… okay! I’ll tell you everything!”

Derek let out a small, almost amused sigh. “Good. Start talking.”

What followed was an intense, methodical unraveling. The villain rattled off Red Rose’s plans, the locations of planted bombs, and the names of accomplices. Derek’s mind cataloged every word, every hesitation, every lie disguised as truth. Occasionally, Derek would return to the fork, a quick scrape or a sharp screech to punctuate a confession, reminding the man who was in control.

“You’re insane,” the man gasped between words, trembling. “This… this isn’t physical, it’s mental! I can’t take it!”

Derek tilted his head, voice soft but lethal. “Exactly. Mental. Physical. Doesn’t matter. Pain is universal. You’ll survive it. But you’ll remember it. And next time… you’ll think twice before lying.” Another screech from the fork. The man doubled over, fingers clutching his ears.

“Every bomb… every accomplice… everything…” the man whispered, shaking uncontrollably. “I’ve told you everything!”

“Good,” Derek said, standing tall. He dropped the plate and fork with a metallic clatter that echoed in the warehouse. “Now you know how it feels when the truth catches up with you.”

The villain, face pale and covered in sweat, looked up in panic. “You… you’re going to—”

“Don’t worry about me,” Derek said, voice calm and final. “Worry about your boss. Because I’m coming for him next.”

The villain whimpered, sinking to the floor, completely broken. Derek’s mind was already racing, mentally tracing every path Red Rose could take, every ally he could call. The network was fractured, but pieces remained. Derek cataloged each one, each vulnerability, each misstep.

Outside, the storm raged on, rain streaking the dark streets like silver threads. Derek stepped onto the rooftop, looking down at the city sprawled beneath him. He could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the knowledge he had extracted. He had a plan, and now he had the details. But even as he thought it, he couldn’t relax.

“You think you’re clever,” he whispered to himself, “but the storm is mine now.”

The villain’s voice echoed faintly from below. “You… you’ll pay for this, Thunder!”

Derek’s smile was faint, almost ghostlike. “I’ve already paid for everything you’ve done,” he said. “Consider this… repayment.”

The wind howled, carrying his words into the night as he disappeared over the rooftops, leaving the defeated man and the echo of his own calculated vengeance behind.

In the distance, sirens wailed faintly, but Derek didn’t flinch. He had work to do. Red Rose would soon learn the consequences of underestimating him. One by one, every piece of the puzzle would fall into place. Every bomb, every lie, every accomplice… would be accounted for.

And when the confrontation finally came, Derek knew it would be complete. No mercy. No hesitation. Only the cold, relentless genius that had earned him the name.