Chapter 1387

Phil lounged on the couch, idly playing with a cat by his side. He was teasing the cat with a dried fish,

amusement twinkling in his eyes. But the cat suddenly flashed its claws, scratching lines across the

back of Phil’s hand. He frowned, tossed away the dried fish, and the cat quickly went after it. Philip sat

on the opposite end of the sofa, deep in thought. He used to think he had everything under control, but

now he felt like the reins were slipping from his grasp. His phone was ringing off the hook—it was the

calls from the people in the bombed mansion. The core members were just injured, but some of the

new recruits in training had died. It wasn’t enough to knock Phelps down, but it was certainly a blot on

his reputation. His phone buzzed again. “Mr. K, 002 is dead.” 002’s Achilles tendon had been cut, and

couldn’t run like the others. So, when the bomb dropped, she was the first to go. 003 wasn’t much

better off. She had lost half her life in a prior gambit where she’d deliberately let a target escape to aid

Maja’s mission and had been punished for that. But thankfully, Phelps didn’t want her die. This evening,

she was severely injured due to the disability. Now, everyone had scattered, settling down elsewhere.

But the news of the trouble had already spread within the organization. “Mr. K, the elders are contacting

to me, asking about tonight’s events.” BK was a vast organization, from 002 to 009—each a potential

successor for leadership. And Phelps had them all in his grasp. He rubbed his temples, “What did they

say?” “They demand you provide an explanation.” K’s position in BK was supreme, but beneath him,

there were ten elders held sway. Most of the leaders were Phelps’ people, but there were always one

or two making troubles for him. As soon as something went wrong by his side,

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these two would jump out. They even accused him of secretly preventing the search for the Holy

Daughter, because he wanted to be BK’s ultimate leader. Phelps’ prestige within the organization was

such that most dismissed these two as stubborn old fools. However, these two old diehards couldn’t be

killed—they were among the world’s five top-tier hypnotists. Among the five, Phelps was one, the Holy

Daughter another, and these two old men—that made up four. If these two were gone, Phil himself

would have to stay at BK to train the next generation in the art of hypnotism, which he clearly didn’t

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have the time for. Although they opposed him, they were extremely professional when it came to

training newcomers. They had even coached Phil in the past, and that was part of the reason they’d

kept around. And now they were challenging Phil again, dredging up the past. “Didn’t the Holy

Daughter bring him back all those years ago? He owes her; and now that she’s gone, but he’s been

consolidating his power within BK. He has ulterior motives.” “The leader’s seat is always the Holy

Daughter’s. As long as she doesn’t return, K has no right to claim the title!” Phelps was growing tired of

these accusations. As he sat there, he pondered why that place had been targeted. Phil, sitting

opposite him, glanced at his scratched hand. “Should we send someone to check out the underground

fight club?” “Not necessary for now. Ian’s fight club might be chaotic, but there’s a system within the

chaos. He’s just bombed the place; the guards are now on high alert. If we go snooping around, we’ll

only expose us more.” “So what do we do?” A sly smile curved Philip’s lips as he carelessly pushed

away the cat coming up for affection. “Don’t forget, Patric is still by Ian’s side. Eric may be loyal to Ian,

but Patric—that’s a different story.”

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