I continued toward the Villareal estate.
My knuckles throbbed whenever I tightened my grip around my bag.
The adrenaline had mostly faded by then, leaving me with enough clarity to think about what had happened.
Dante had asked that man to follow me, and that alone was irritating enough.
What concerned me more was that the man belonged to Sigma Rho, a group I knew almost nothing about.
According to him, Dante wanted to know where I went after school, who I met, what I was doing, and where my sudden money had come from.
He had apparently been watching me for days.
Worse, the motorcycle rider had threatened me using Sigma Rho’s name and warned that there would be consequences.
I didn’t know whether he had been exaggerating, but I wasn’t willing to dismiss the threat.
The problem wasn’t that I was afraid for myself.
With Aetheris, I had already discovered that I could handle situations that would have been impossible for the old me.
The problem was that I couldn’t guarantee the same thing for everyone around me.
If Dante continued digging, eventually someone might start looking at my family, Niel, or Rosalie.
That was the part I couldn’t accept.
I had already lived through one lifetime where people I cared about became victims of circumstances they never asked for.
I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for history to repeat itself.
Still, I wasn’t about to charge into a group I knew nothing about.
Before doing anything, I needed information.
By the time I reached the Villareal estate, I had already decided that I would spend the afternoon thinking about how to get it.
Clara noticed that something was wrong almost immediately.
“You look tired,” she said as I placed my bag beside the chair.
“I’m fine.”
“You also said that last time.”
I opened her mathematics book and gave her a look.
“Then I suppose I’m consistently fine.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push the subject.
We started with the lesson, and for a while I managed to concentrate.
Unfortunately, the problem on the page became increasingly difficult to solve when my mind kept returning to the same questions.
Who exactly was Sigma Rho?
How many people belonged to it?
Where did they gather?
Who was their leader?
How much did they know about me?
More importantly, how could I find out without drawing attention to myself?
I eventually realized that I had been staring at the same equation for far too long.
Clara tapped her pencil against the notebook.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Thinking about something else.”
I sighed.
“Sorry.
It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
She studied me for a moment before returning to her work.
“My father does that too.”
I looked at her.
“Does what?”
“When he has a problem.
He doesn’t always try to solve it himself.”
I waited for her to continue.
“Sometimes he asks someone who knows more about it.
Papa says that having connections isn’t just useful for business.
Sometimes the important thing is knowing who to ask when you don’t have the answer yourself.”
I stopped.
It was such a simple statement, but it immediately exposed the flaw in my approach.
I had been thinking like the old Rafael, trying to solve everything personally because I was the only one who knew the whole picture.
But I didn’t need to know everything.
I only needed reliable information, and I knew someone who had spent years building connections throughout Cebu.
Mr.
Villareal.
I smiled without realizing it.
Clara looked at me suspiciously.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Nothing.
Let’s finish your lesson.”
She shrugged and went back to her work, apparently satisfied.
I wasn’t.
My mind was already working on how I could ask Mr.
Villareal for information without revealing everything.
Mr.
Villareal was still reviewing some documents when I approached his office.
“Sir, can I ask you something?”
He looked up from the papers in front of him.
“Of course.
What is it?”
“Do you know a group called Sigma Rho?”
His pen stopped halfway through a signature.
“Sigma Rho?”
“Yes.”
He leaned back slightly, studying me instead of the document.
“Why are you asking?”
I had expected that question.
“I heard the name recently,” I said carefully.
“That doesn’t sound like something a fourteen-year-old should be curious about.”
I gave him a small smile.
“You’re right.”
He didn’t smile back.
“Rafael, I’m not asking to pry into your personal affairs, but Sigma Rho isn’t exactly the kind of organization people casually research.
If someone mentioned them to you, I’d like to know why.”
I hesitated.
I couldn’t tell him everything.
Not about the motorcycle rider, Dante, or what had happened on the road.
The moment I started explaining, I’d have to explain why I had been followed in the first place, and that would lead to questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
“Someone mentioned the name,” I said.
“I just want to know what kind of people they are.”
Mr.
Villareal watched me for several seconds.
“You’re hiding something.”
My stomach tightened.
Then he sighed and placed his pen on the desk.
“I’m not going to force you to tell me.
But listen to me carefully.
People like that aren’t something you investigate just because you’re curious.”
“I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
His voice remained calm, but there was a seriousness behind it now.
“Groups like Sigma Rho can have connections you can’t see.
One person may look insignificant, but that person may know someone who knows someone else.
You don’t know how far their reach goes.
If they realize someone is looking into them, they may start looking back.”
I nodded.
“I understand the risk.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He stared at me for another moment before finally shaking his head.
“You’re an unusual kid, Rafael.”
I wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment.
He reached for his phone.
“I may be able to find something out.”
I looked at him.
“You can?”
“I have people who have worked security for some of my properties around Cebu.
Some of them have been in this business for years.
They know the local groups, the troublemakers, the people who operate around certain areas.”
He made a call.
I remained standing quietly while he spoke to someone for several minutes, asking about Sigma Rho and whether the name had come up before.
Eventually, he ended the call.
“One of my security managers knows the name.”
“What did he say?”
“Sigma Rho isn’t a registered organization or legitimate business.
It’s more of a local group.
Mostly young men, some with backgrounds in street fights, petty crime, and other trouble.”
“Do they have a headquarters?”
“Not officially.”
I waited.
“He mentioned an old warehouse in one of the industrial areas.
Apparently, people associated with the group have been seen there regularly.
But he couldn’t confirm that it’s their actual base.”
“That’s still helpful.”
“It is,” Mr.
Villareal agreed.
“But don’t mistake a lead for an invitation.”
I nodded.
He pointed at me with his phone.
“And Rafael?”
“Yes, sir?”
“If you’re asking because someone has already caused trouble for you, tell me.”
I froze for half a second.
Mr.
Villareal noticed.
“You don’t have to tell me everything,” he continued.
“But if someone is threatening you, I’d rather know before you try handling it yourself.”
I looked down briefly before meeting his eyes again.
“I appreciate that, sir.
But I don’t want to cause trouble for you or your family.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
I took a breath.
“I’ll be careful.”
His expression softened slightly, but he still looked unconvinced.
“Being careful isn’t the same as being reckless and calling it careful.”
That almost made me smile.
“I won’t act carelessly,” I assured him.
“I’ll make sure I understand what I’m dealing with before I do anything.
If I think the situation is beyond what I can handle, I’ll come to you.”
“Good.”
He picked up his pen again.
“And Rafael?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t go looking for trouble just because you think you can handle it.”
“I won’t.”
He returned his attention to the documents.
“Good.
Now go finish your tutoring session before Clara complains that her tutor is spending more time talking to her father than teaching her.”
I smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
I turned toward the door, but his voice stopped me one last time.
“Rafael.”
I looked back.
“Whatever you’re dealing with, don’t underestimate people simply because they don’t look dangerous.”
I nodded.
“I won’t.”
This time, when I left the office, I had something I hadn’t had before.
A lead.
Not enough to act on yet.
But enough to start looking.
I didn’t go to the warehouse immediately.
If someone had already been following me, the last thing I wanted was to walk directly into a place connected to them without knowing what I was dealing with.
Instead, I spent the next two days observing the area.
The warehouse was located in an older industrial section of Cebu, surrounded by small businesses, storage buildings, and narrow roads.
From the outside, it looked almost abandoned.
The paint on the concrete walls had faded, several sections of the roof showed signs of age, and the loading area was partly overgrown.
There was nothing about the building that immediately suggested it was being used as a gathering place.
That changed in the late afternoon.
The first motorcycle arrived shortly after five.
A young man parked beside the building and entered through a side door.
Another motorcycle arrived fifteen minutes later.
Then another.
I didn’t stay in one location while watching them.
One afternoon I observed from a small store across the street.
Another day I walked past the warehouse several times while pretending to be on my way somewhere else.
On the third day, I waited farther down the road where I could still see the entrance without appearing to watch the building.
The same faces began appearing repeatedly.
Some arrived alone, others in groups.
A few stayed only long enough to speak with someone before leaving, while others remained inside for several hours.
By the busiest period, I counted more than twenty people connected to the building.
I also started paying attention to the building itself.
The main entrance faced the road and was impossible to approach without being seen.
There was a smaller side entrance that seemed to be used more frequently by the members.
At the rear was a loading door opening toward a narrow alley.
Two windows on the eastern wall were large enough for someone to climb through, although getting to them from outside would be difficult without being noticed.
The surrounding streets gave me several possible approaches, but none were perfect.
The most important thing I learned was that the people entering weren’t all hardened fighters.
Most were young men who seemed to know one another well.
They talked, ate, played cards, and occasionally left together.
It looked less like a professional criminal organization and more like a tightly connected group that had grown around a common identity.
That made them more difficult to predict.
People who were connected by money could turn on one another when the money disappeared.
People who considered each other family were different.
On the third evening, I finally saw the man everyone seemed to defer to.
He arrived without any dramatic entrance.
He wasn’t dressed differently from the others, and he didn’t have an entourage surrounding him.
Yet the moment he entered the warehouse, people began making room for him.
I couldn’t hear everything from my position, but I heard someone address him as Marcus.
That was enough.
Marcus Valdez.
I stayed for another twenty minutes before leaving.
I had the information I needed.
That night, I went over everything I had observed.
There were at least twenty members present during the busiest periods, although I couldn’t say how many belonged to Sigma Rho permanently.
There were multiple entrances, several possible approaches, and enough open space around the warehouse that I would be visible if I approached carelessly.
I also had to account for the possibility that there were people inside whom I hadn’t seen.
The fight itself would be another problem.
Aetheris could improve my reaction speed, perception, strength, and agility, but it didn’t turn me into an experienced martial artist.
I had learned through testing how much of an advantage it gave me, but I also knew its limitations.
If too many people surrounded me, I could still be overwhelmed.
If I exhausted myself fighting everyone, I would have nothing left for whoever was strongest.
So I needed to control the engagement.
I couldn’t allow them to surround me.
I couldn’t waste movement, and I couldn’t let myself get trapped against a wall.
Most importantly, I needed to make sure I didn’t accidentally kill anyone.
My goal wasn’t to destroy Sigma Rho.
I wanted them to understand that I wasn’t someone they could threaten casually.
If I could make that point without taking a life, I would.
The following evening, I went back.
This time, I wasn’t there to observe.