Atlas's handsome face was as cold as ice, and his lips pressed tightly together. His sharp eyes gleamed with intensity.

He stared icily at the steward. Every word he uttered seemed laced with frost, sending a shiver through the room.

Seeing me come out, he settled me on the sofa. I turned to the steward. "Who told you to deliver the message?"

"It was a woman, Ms. Chloe. I didn't get a clear look at her. She told me to inform you to go to the fourth-floor lounge. She also said that you should go alone." The steward's face was deathly pale, trembling as if he had seen a ghost. It was clear he was terrified.

One of Atlas's aides entered, holding an evidence bag. "Sir, these are the clothes salvaged from the sea!"

I quickly looked over. It was a dark gray tracksuit. I was confident. "Yes, this is the right color. A dark figure in a hooded tracksuit attacked me. That's why I couldn't see the face."

I closed my eyes, trying to recall the moment. A dark figure rushed toward me, causing