[AFYC] Chapter 8

Satisfied that there were no errors, he set the document aside and picked up the box. His hands trembled slightly as he handled it, its significance pressing down on him. The small black box, unremarkable at first glance, was engraved with the number ‘5555’, a subtle marking that an untrained eye could easily overlook. The box bore a tiny hole, an aperture so precise it seemed almost too perfect, like a flaw in a work of art. It was a keyhole designed for one purpose: to verify the authenticity of something more valuable than gold.

The box, with its heavy aura of secrecy and importance, had been specially designed for key verification. Security was a sacred art in Felphe Bank, where fortunes rested behind impenetrable vaults—a key meant access, control, and immense power. Although duplication of these keys was rare, history had not been kind enough to rule out the possibility entirely. Over the years, there had been isolated incidents where keys to Felphe Bank vaults had been expertly copied. These were no amateur attempts but the work of master forgers. Yet, most fakes were exposed during the verification process, particularly when the engraving on the key failed to match the original. However, there were a few cases where the deception went further—keys that passed the engraving check but failed when they could not unlock the vault itself.

Felphe Bank had long been synonymous with security, its vaults famous for their formidable physical defences and the arcane intricacies of their locks. These vaults were the pride of generations of master locksmiths who had devoted their lives to perfecting the art of creating the unbreakable. Even today, these craftsmen are revered, their skills passed down through the ages like a closely guarded secret.

The only things capable of opening these one-of-a-kind keys were the vaults in the basement of Felphe Bank and the key verification box, now in the employee’s trembling hands. If this box opened, its corresponding vault would also open, confirming the key’s authenticity. The importance of this moment was not lost on him. The weight of history, tradition, and the immense responsibility of his position bore down on him as he prepared to perform the verification.

With a deep breath, he inserted the key into the hole. The key slid smoothly into place, the metal gliding through the lock with a soft, almost soothing, clicking sound. He could feel the familiar sensation of the key’s ridges engaging with the lock’s pins, each notch finding its place with an ease that spoke to the precision of the craftsmanship. This was not a task that could be rushed, nor was it one to be taken lightly. The tension in the air was palpable as he held his breath, steadying his hands and resolve. The moment stretched, a taut string about to snap.

Finally, with a calm, measured movement, he turned the key.

Click.

The sound was soft, almost too quiet, but to him, it echoed like a thunderclap in the room’s silence.

His eyes widened in disbelief. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not tonight after twenty-five years of silence. Most incidents occur without warning, and he had certainly not anticipated this. The box, which had remained securely shut for a quarter of a century, slowly began to open. A faint, musty smell wafted from the narrow gap, reminiscent of old wood and forgotten memories. It was the scent that could stir long-buried emotions or perhaps a sneeze.

At that precise moment, the verification room supervisor, who had been conducting his rounds, approached. His steps were brisk and purposeful as if propelled by some sixth sense.

“What key is this?” he asked.

The employee, still reeling from what had just occurred, could barely find his voice. Without waiting for a response, the supervisor leaned over his shoulder, catching sight of the number engraved on the box. Recognition flickered in his eyes. He nodded absently and began to walk away, only to stop abruptly after a few steps.

“Who brought this?” he asked, his tone suddenly sharp.

“I’m not sure yet. We haven’t checked their identification,” the employee replied, his voice finally steadying.

“Was it a man?” the supervisor pressed.

“No, it was a woman,” the employee answered, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall more details.

“A woman?” The supervisor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What did she look like?”

The employee hesitated, rolling his eyes upward as if searching his memory. His voice was quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “A coat…” he muttered.

“A coat?” the supervisor echoed.

“Yes. She was wearing a coat.”

“A coat? In this weather?” The supervisor’s eyes narrowed, suspicion darkening his gaze.

“Yes,” the employee confirmed with a nod.

“…” The supervisor said nothing, his thoughts racing.

“…” The employee, too, was lost in thought, the peculiar details of the encounter replaying in his mind.

Their gazes met briefly, a silent exchange of unease and uncertainty between them. A faint, distant, yet ominous sound like the rumble of a storm cloud gathering in the distance broke the tension. Both men turned towards the window, and a sense of something more inevitable loomed just out of sight.

♔♔♔

Once the employee had left and the door closed behind him with a quiet click, Seo Ah found herself utterly alone. The uneasy gazes that had followed her since she arrived, probing and persistent, finally dissipated, leaving her in a silence that felt more oppressive than comforting. She sank into the plush sofa, its soft cushions offering little relief from the tight tension in her body. Her face still tingled from the scrutiny she had endured, the sensation lingering like a phantom itch she couldn’t quite reach.

“Did you see the youngest miss? She’s so strange.”

Even in their silence, the stares carried weight, each glance laden with judgment and unspoken words. To Seo Ah, those gazes were not mere looks but whispers and murmurs that filled the room and echoed in her mind. She had grown accustomed to them, yet they never failed to unsettle her. It was the same in this unfamiliar place as it had always been wherever she went. To them, she was strange, different, and did not quite belong.

If only it were something else about her that stood out, something less unsettling.

Then maybe the discomfort she felt would not be so pervasive, so suffocating. Seo Ah rubbed her face with both hands, the friction turning her skin red. Her frown deepened as heat rose from beneath her collar, a discomfort she could no longer ignore.

Should she take it off, even just for a moment?

Her eyes flicked to the door through which the employee had disappeared. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of approaching footsteps, but there was nothing. The heavy and thick silence pressed down on her as if the walls were closing in. Deciding it was safe, she unbuttoned her coat with quick, practised fingers, slipping her arms free of the sleeves in one fluid motion. But the relief she sought eluded her. The dress she wore beneath was just as thick, the fabric clinging to her skin, sticky with sweat. The heat was unbearable, but it was far from the only problem weighing on her mind.

“I should have gone to the inn first,” she murmured, regret threading through her words.

In a place where she could be alone, she would have unpacked her belongings, bathed away the grime of travel, and rested her weary body. She could have come here early in the morning, refreshed and ready to face whatever lay ahead. But that simple plan had been derailed when she stepped off the train. The people who had watched her with keen interest during the journey had continued to follow her after she disembarked. Their eyes were relentless, tracking her every move, their presence an unspoken threat she could not ignore. To evade them, she had plunged into the crowded streets, losing herself in the throng of bodies until, almost by accident, she was boarding a carriage.

“Where would you like to go?” the driver had asked, his voice cutting through the haze of her anxiety.

She could think of only one place in Felphe, perhaps even on the entire Norfolk continent. A destination she knew all too well despite never having set foot in it before. Without hesitation, Seo Ah named the one place she knew.