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Inside one of the famous parts of London, Westminster. Here lie some of the most expensive properties in the country and worldwide. As usual, the wealthy congregated here; it symbolized status.

In one such mansion, a man was pacing across his room, filled with worry. He was none other than Grant, presumed to be the ringleader belonging to the foundation.

" Shit! Why doesn\'t he pick up his phone? Fuck, what am I supposed to do now?" Although he was alone, he couldn\'t help talking to talk out loud.

" Everything was going great, but those damn peasants! I will definitely skin them alive!" He loudly banged on the table. He was outraged because he had lost contact with almost everyone at this point.

" I could have thrown those mutts as bait, but they just had to get caught by their family. I repeatedly told them to be careful. Those pieces of shit \'nobles\', always thinking of themselves above others." He was referring to the Hanson family fiasco.

They could have been the perfect scapegoat in this situation, but now one of them was dead, and his son had no idea where he was.

Just then, his phone rang; he glanced and became deathly pale looking at the caller ID.

" Why now? Did he find out? I have to play it cool?" Grant thought as he picked up the call. He knew it was foolish to hide anything from this person, but he had to try to save his neck.

" H-hello, Sir."

" Oh, you can still pick up your phone. I thought you were already dead." The person on the other side of the call said nonchalantly.

" Sir! Please! Help me; I will do anything." As soon as Grant heard his voice, he knew he had no time left.

" Help? I gave you enough. It was your fault to become complacent."

" But I did everything that you told me to do! I beg you, please help me!" Grant was desperate at this point.

" Certainly, you were entertaining, but now you are a liability. You know too much."

" That is why I could help you manage your other \'operations\'."

" See, It was your fault. You might have escaped scot-free from this mess if you were not so curious."

" You son of a bitch! It will not be only me going down! In fact, I will call them right now and tell them everything I know about the \'Seven\'."

" Whoa, whoa. Calm down, man! Well, go ahead. I can at least grant you your final wish." As soon as the man said it, a shadow appeared behind Grant. He also noticed it, but it was too late; with one movement, he was incapacitated.

" Remember this, you were most my lowest foot soldier. If I had to get rid of one of my pinkies to save my whole hand, I would gladly partake in it."

" P-leas-e." That were Grant\'s final words. The shadow dosed him with something which caused him to twitch violently.

Within a few seconds, he was lying motionless on the ground.

" Nine, You know what to do. Make it look like so that it would never come back to us." The man said over the phone.

" Ha!" Nine, the shadow got to work, getting rid of evidence along with a well-crafted suicide note detailing Grant\'s sins.

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The following day, Clark and his subordinates raided the mansion. At first, the servants protested and tried to call their master. They tried to block law enforcement at the door but were unsuccessful.

After taking care of little resistance, Clark went straight toward Grant\'s room to find it empty.

" Has he escaped?" He muttered.

" Search the whole house. According to our intel, he never the property. He must be hiding somewhere inside the compound." He gave his order.

" Boss, this way," Helda called out to him.

He followed her for a few seconds and saw someone banging on a particular door. It looked like the entrance to the office area.

" Get away from the door! Why are you making a ruckus? This is an official raid!" Helda shouted.

The person who was banging on the door appeared to be a house attendant.

" T-this is the door to the master\'s office. He never locks the door!" He sounded like he wanted to help.

" Step aside. He must be hiding here. Grant! Open the door, or we will break it! You will be judged for your sins." Clark was sure that this was it. This was not the perfect hiding place, but Grant must have panicked when he heard us coming and locked himself in.

" Captain." Hearing no response from the other side of the door, Helda looked toward her superior.

Clark gave the order. They already know what to do. Soon, a few people arrived carrying the necessary equipment. It was a heavy door that needed some force to break through.

After several tries, they managed to tear it down, but as soon as they entered the room, a strange smell assaulted their nose. They also saw someone lying on the ground.

" Is this alcohol? Is he passed out due to excessive drinking?" Helda said, looking at the scene.

" Wait! We made so much ruckus; he should have awoken by now. Helda!" Clark said. Helda got the message; she quickly walked toward him and checked his body.

" Sir, He has no pulse." She informed. Clark was dumbfounded by the situation. Was it possible that he drank himself to death? That\'s impossible!

He checked the table to find the note. The more he read the letter, the more uglier his face became.

" Suicide? Bullshit! He was alive a few hours ago!"

He examined the body, and there were a few lacerations along the arms and fingers. He also found traces of struggle, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Everything appeared to be self-inflicted, coinciding with someone with a mental breakdown.

He had seen such things in his career; often, when one loses their mind, they would try to break everything while contemplating ending it all for once.

" Captain, What should we do next? There seems to be some foul play." Helda, who was unfamiliar with it, went the direct route suspecting it to be a murder.

" We don\'t know yet. Everything is locked from the inside; we should call in the forensics. They should be able to find if there was someone else present."

" Yes, sir."

Just when Clark thought that he was right on the mark, everything fell apart. Now they have to piece together the evidence themselves. With Grant\'s death, there would be many questions left unanswered.