CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER 39- CONTRACT BINDING

The air inside Logan’s office felt denser than before, the polished oak desk between the two men serving as a silent battlefield where neither wished to lose ground. The hum of the air conditioner filled the silence, blending with the faint ticking of the wall clock—a rhythm that seemed to mock the tension lingering in the room.

Kaidren leaned back slightly in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, assessing every twitch of Logan’s features. Then, breaking the heavy stillness with words that cut through the air like a blade, Kaidren spoke.

"So," his tone was calm, almost detached, "what’s your price on buying my potion... with the formula?"

It wasn’t a casual question—it was the signal Logan had been waiting for. Kaidren’s plain voice carried no inflection, no sign of excitement, no clue as to whether this was truly serious or just another layer of negotiation. Yet to Logan, it sounded like a door creaking open to a future he had dreamed of.

For a moment, Logan’s breath caught in his chest. Beneath the table, his fingers slowly curled into a fist, his knuckles pressing white against his skin. The thrill that surged within him was difficult to contain; a rush of adrenaline that made his heart hammer against his ribs.

He’s interested... He’s truly interested.

This wasn’t just about a transaction anymore. If Kaidren was offering the formula—the secret behind the potion itself—then Logan was staring at an opportunity that could change the entire trajectory of his career. No, not just his career. His life. With this formula, Aegis Bank could seize an untapped market that no competitor dared to even imagine. And Logan... Logan would be the one who delivered it.

The thought of rising above the confines of being just another branch manager set his chest ablaze. He envisioned himself standing higher, his name whispered among directors, his presence demanded in global meetings. A man who secured the genius behind a revolutionary formula—that would be his legacy.

But he quickly masked his eagerness, pulling a veil of professionalism over the swirl of ambition inside him. He straightened his tie, cleared his throat softly, and when he spoke, his voice was controlled and measured.

"For something of this magnitude..." he began, carefully watching Kaidren’s expression, "I can offer to buy it for one hundred million AUR."

The figure slipped into the air, heavy and deliberate.

Even as the words left his mouth, Logan felt a faint weight press against his chest. A hundred million AUR—an astronomical amount, even for an institution like Aegis. It wasn’t pocket change, not a simple expenditure to be waved away. He was effectively staking the financial arteries of his branch, pulling resources that would demand explanations later.

But he reassured himself immediately. It’s worth it. More than worth it.

This wasn’t just a deal. This was an investment into the future. With the formula in their hands, the bank would reap profits beyond calculation. One hundred million today could mean billions tomorrow. His lips pressed into a thin line of resolve as he forced his heartbeat to calm.

Across the desk, Kaidren’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, a shadow of calculation flickering in his dark irises. On the surface, he appeared composed, his features betraying little. Yet inwardly, Kaidren was quietly surprised.

One hundred million... He’s willing to go that far.

It wasn’t a bad offer—not at all. In fact, it was generous, more than what most would risk on an untested venture. The amount itself was impressive, but what mattered more was the signal behind it: This guy was taking him seriously, perhaps more seriously than he expected.

But Kaidren knew better than to let the glow of numbers blind him. He had lived long enough—suffered enough—to understand the rules of power. Wealth was only ever a mask, a tool that cloaked ambition in polite smiles. Behind every handshake lay the potential for betrayal.

The thought stirred a quiet ember within him. Power breeds greed. If I hand them this formula outright, who’s to say they won’t demand more? Who’s to say they won’t come for me when they think I’ve outlived my usefulness?

His expression remained still, unreadable, but his mind sharpened like the edge of a blade. He would need to tread carefully here.

"That’s..." Kaidren’s voice broke the silence again, his gaze lowering slightly as if in thought. "A tempting offer."

But then he added, almost casually, "But—"

The single word fell like a stone into still water, sending ripples through Logan’s composure.

Logan’s chest tightened. The flicker of worry crept up his spine, cold and unwelcome. He leaned forward just slightly, his professional mask beginning to strain at the edges.

"Is there," he asked carefully, "something that still dissatisfies you about the deal? If so... I will do everything within my current power to satisfy it."

There was urgency behind his words now, a faint quiver of desperation hidden beneath the layers of practiced diplomacy. Logan couldn’t afford to let this deal slip through his fingers—not when he had come this far.

Slowly, Kaidren lifted his gaze, meeting Logan’s eyes directly for the first time since the offer was placed. His stare was cool, piercing, as though he were searching the very depths of Logan’s soul.

And then, in a low, deliberate voice, Kaidren spoke two words.

"Kyrium Covenant."

The name itself carried weight, ancient and uncompromising.

Logan blinked once, taken aback despite himself. Internally, the surprise rippled through him. Of all the conditions Kaidren could have placed, this was not something minor—it was something absolute.

Kyrium Covenant. A magical contract of unparalleled severity, crafted to enforce confidentiality with lethal precision. Once enacted, the rules it bound could not be broken. There were no loopholes, no soft edges. The interesting part of this contract was that only one party will be held on death’s door by the law of this contract. So if that "one" violated the covenant, if even a whisper of the secret escaped their lips against the terms... death would claim them instantly.

For most, such a demand would be terrifying. It was a noose, invisible yet absolute, hung around the neck of the signer.

But Logan was not most. He had navigated corridors of power long enough to brush shoulders with those who demanded secrecy at the highest levels. He had signed papers soaked in invisible blood, made promises that never left the shadows of boardrooms. Confidentiality was not foreign to him—it was his daily bread.

Even so, the scale of this deal gave him pause. Potion-making—alchemy of this magnitude—was not a mere transaction. It would draw eyes, hungry and relentless, from factions who would want to pry, to dissect, to own. The covenant would bind him utterly, stripping him of any leeway if such forces came sniffing around.

Logan’s lips tightened, but only for a breath. Then he inhaled deeply, steadying himself.

If that’s the price, then so be it. For the future I seek... it’s nothing.

His excitement, his ambition, his hunger—none of it diminished. If anything, Kaidren’s demand only solidified the genius’s image in his eyes. A man careful enough to demand such a contract was not reckless. He was someone worth betting everything on.

Logan straightened, giving a slow, measured nod. His voice, calm once more, carried its usual professional weight.

"...Very well."

Kaidren’s brow arched ever so slightly, his expression unreadable yet edged with quiet sharpness. His voice, calm and level, broke the silence with a plain question.

"Are you sure about this? You do realize you’ll be the one taking the full brunt of the contract’s weight."

Logan’s pulse spiked at the reminder, but he quickly masked his unease. He could not afford hesitation here—not when the opportunity glittered so close before him. He lifted a hand lightly, stopping Kaidren before any further doubt could be planted.

"There is no need for concern, Mister Kaidren. I am absolutely fine with this arrangement. Such conditions don’t bother me in the least. If you’re agreeable, I’ll have the Guardians below bring one up this instant."

Kaidren leaned back lazily in his chair, as though the matter were trivial to him. He shifted his gaze away, giving Logan nothing more than a curt response.

"Well... you do you."

Relief flickered through Logan’s chest. He nodded, decisive now, and reached into the drawer at his side. From within came the sleek black phone, its reflective screen catching the lamplight. With practiced familiarity, he unlocked it with a swipe, the glow revealing the steady calm of his face—calm that thinly veiled the rush of anticipation underneath.

His fingers moved over the glass, typing a string of quick commands. Kaidren, catching the movement in the corner of his eye, adjusted himself more comfortably in his seat. With a faint exhale, he let his body sink into the chair, tilting his head slightly as though the ceiling had suddenly become more interesting than the dealings of men. His dark gaze wandered across the office, following the intricate wooden patterns of the ceiling beams, the quiet gleam of the desk’s polished surface, and the muted glimmer of brass fixtures. Anything to pass the idle stretch of waiting.

Moments later, the silence broke.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Three deliberate taps sounded against the double doors. The voice that followed was deep, steady, and tinged with discipline.

"I’ve come at the branch manager’s request."

Logan straightened, his composure stiffening at the sound. His eyes fixed on the door, and in a voice measured yet firm, he answered, "Come in."

Kaidren’s gaze drifted from the ceiling back to the front, his posture shifting into a more proper sitting form, shoulders squared, as though bracing for what would enter.

The doors creaked open slowly, their polished hinges sighing under the movement. Through the widening gap stepped a towering figure—a man of formidable stature clad in the unmistakable attire of the Guardians. His buzz-cut hair, black tuxedo, and stoic expression marked him instantly. Every step he took into the room carried a calculated weight, deliberate and firm, his polished shoes clicking softly against the floor. As the doors eased shut behind him with a muffled thud, the chamber seemed to grow quieter, heavier.

The Guardian’s gloved hand reached into his tuxedo jacket. With controlled precision, he withdrew an aged parchment that pulsed faintly with a soft blue glow. The light emanating from the material was otherworldly, casting ethereal glimmers across the Guardian’s stern face. He held it with both hands, presenting it toward Logan in an almost ceremonial fashion.

"This is the contract you requested, Branch Manager." His tone was crisp, respectful, each word measured like a soldier reciting oath.

Logan accepted the glowing parchment, his fingers brushing against the faint hum of power woven within it. He gave the Guardian a meaningful glance, a silent communication passing between them, before shifting his eyes toward Kaidren.

The Guardian caught that glance, reading it effortlessly. Without needing further instruction, he stepped forward, his heavy presence now angled toward Kaidren’s side.

Kaidren’s sharp eye caught the movement instantly. His right eyebrow lifted ever so slightly once more, suspicion flickering across his face. His body subtly shifted, muscles tightening just enough to prepare for trouble. At the corner of his vision, he observed Logan carefully, measuring the man’s reaction for any hint of betrayal.

The Guardian stopped at Kaidren’s side and lowered his head slightly in respectful deference. His voice, though deep, was polished and professional, carrying none of the stiffness of arrogance.

"Mister Kaidren," he said, enunciating each syllable with formality, "if I may trouble you to extend your hand for a brief moment."

Kaidren’s eyes narrowed faintly. Confusion lingered for a heartbeat until his gaze flicked downward, catching the faint beeping of the black cuffs clasped around his wrist. A slow realization settled over him.

He exhaled softly, his tone flat but carrying a trace of curiosity.

...So that’s what this is about.

"Fine. Go ahead."

The Guardian dipped his head in acknowledgment. From his pocket, he withdrew a small golden key, its metal edges gleaming with polished care. He took Kaidren’s right arm gently but firmly, inserting the key into the cuff’s mechanism. A muted click resonated, followed by the distinct sound of metal loosening.

The restraint fell away, freeing Kaidren’s wrist. The Guardian caught the cuff smoothly, slipping it into his pocket with practiced ease.

"Thank you, Mister Kaidren," he said respectfully, his tone steady. He shifted his gaze lower. "If you will permit me, I’ll remove the other restraint as well."

Kaidren rotated his wrist slowly, adjusting to the absence of weight. The faint sting of compressed flesh lingered but was already fading. His voice came lazily, almost dismissive, though it carried the edge of consent.

"It’s fine. Do as you will."

The Guardian knelt with deliberate composure, his large frame lowering with surprising fluidity. He reached for the cuff around Kaidren’s right leg, inserting the key once more. Another muted click followed, and the metal restraint loosened, freeing Kaidren entirely.

The cuffs and key vanished into the Guardian’s pocket. He rose back to his full imposing height, then gave a respectful bow first to Logan, then to Kaidren.

"I hope the remainder of your day proves most productive," he intoned gravely.

Logan responded with a nod, raising his hand in a small dismissive gesture of gratitude. Kaidren merely tilted his chin, acknowledging the courtesy with a silent glance.

With his duty complete, the Guardian turned sharply on his heel and strode back toward the double doors. The air of discipline followed his every step, until the doors opened and closed behind him, leaving the two men alone once more.

For a moment, the silence lingered, heavy as the parchment that now lay in Logan’s hands.

It was Logan who finally spoke, his voice smooth yet carrying the faintest thread of eagerness.

"Now then, Mister Kaidren... shall we return to the matter of business?"

Kaidren stretched his fingers subtly, feeling the absence of the cuffs. His eyes lingered on Logan, and for a fleeting second, he let the thought pass through his mind: without restraints, he was no longer just a captive figure in this office. He was a player now—one whose value was no longer measured in strength alone, but in the weight of money, contracts, and influence.

A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in his chair, voice calm, composed, and tinged with the quiet confidence of someone who knew his worth.

"Sure. Let’s get back to it."