Chapitre 28: Hall Of Mirrors
As he came closer to the monitors, he realised that the screens were all split into multiple sections, displaying security footage.
One monitor displayed familiar angles of the house, showing footage of the outside, employee's quarters, front door, and the hallway of locked doors where Xin Tuyong currently resided.
That meant that Huan Mao would know about his movements. There was no backing out now.
The rest of the monitors showed footage of unfamiliar places -- offices bustling with people, silent rooms, and more.
In the back of the room, a heavy oak vanity sat inconspicuously. It appeared perfectly empty as it had a surface clear of personal items and not a chair to accompany it.
Upon closer inspection, however, Xin Tuyong noticed a pen chained to the surface.
On the side of the pen was a difficult-to-see engraved character. With piqued curiosity, he lifted the pen to get a closer look.
The chain was pulled taut as he read the sole character, Xin, written in likeness to his family name. Seconds later, a low whirring sound set him on edge and his heart pounded out of his ribs.
The vanity, its portion of wall, and a crescent of the floor it sat on slowly turned, leaving Xin Tuyong to back away onto the immobile floor.
It stopped turning with a click. An imposing closet now faced him and his sleep deprivation clouded his caution as he opened a door to the closet.
Inside were neatly shelved accessories: watches, ties, earrings, and thick necklaces. Each piece rested in the center of a circular platform and were labeled with respective numbers.
Tiny green dots displayed themselves brightly on accessories in the shadows of the closet. He got a sinking feeling as he saw a single empty slot in the watch section.
These weren't regular watches. They had normal faces with the traditional 12-hour timekeeping style, but they were charging.
These watches were not electric, but they were charging. They needed battery replacements, but it was a new technology that required them to charge.
The events of the past year started to click together. How did Huan Mao always know so much about where he was and what he was doing?
She had given him the watch within his first month of employment. She was tracking him.
Whether it was simply a locator watch or a bug, he didn't know. But he was certain that he was being tracked.
He closed the closet doors and searched for a switch to turn the revolving platform back to its original position.
He felt around the closet but couldn't figure out where the switch was. It wasn't on the outside, it wasn't anywhere he felt inside, and he didn't see any buttons or suspicious objects that could be the switch.
A broad yawn escaped him as desperation began to set in. It would be morning in just a few hours and he didn't know what would happen if he got caught. He didn't want to know.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and he panted shakily. As a last resort, he even tried pushing the wall manually. It was of no use -- the platform wouldn't budge.
Finally, he crawled away on hands and knees. He couldn't take it. Huan Mao would kill him if she knew he tampered in this room.
But why did she leave it unlocked and unsupervised? What would have happened if an intruder came into the room?
The office was locked and it only had papers, but this room had technology worth a fortune in it and was wide open.
He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground with a pained groan. The anxiety was bringing up nausea. Each breath was becoming increasingly shallow and shaky until he was lightheaded with panic.
And, as if by a miracle, the platform began turning back around. It had been 15 minutes since it first turned, then suddenly it turned back?
He didn't feel any switch and didn't see the possibility that he accidently found and hit a button. Maybe there was a timer for it to automatically return...
At this point, he couldn't care less. He was drained and wanted nothing more than to return to his room and pretend none of this happened.
He would pretend that it didn't happen. Surely it was just a dream that he'd wake from.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone