When a Hitman Gets Haunted by a Ghost
Chapter 62: Forge a New Path

Chapter 62: Forge a New Path

"No, I draw."

The guy raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No, it’s not. Painting is more..." Gabriel tried to find the right words. "It’s more about mixing colors, canvases and stuff. Drawing is more about pencils and..." He trailed off, distracted by something small falling from the guy.

Gabriel’s gaze dropped to the ground, catching a dark red speck on the clean tiles. For a moment, he wondered if he was imagining it. Then he noticed another, trailing down from the guy’s face.

"Your nose is bleeding."

The guy cursed under his breath and stood up, pressing his fingers under his nose.

As if on cue, the door to the doctor’s cabinet opened and called out Gabriel’s name.

"Are you feeling a bit better now?" the nurse asked him as she pushed the wheelchair towards the door.

"I think so," Gabriel mumbled, his eyes following the black-haired guy, who walked to the bathroom with his head tilted back slightly. He felt a small pang of disappointment as the wall separated them. But at least he felt a little better now.

✧ ✧ ✧

There was a knock on the door. Gabriel jerked his head up and sprang to his feet, cursing as he crossed the room.

"You righteous, petty evil spirit, what took you so long to come back? I’m late because of you! Do you know how bored I was in here? You left me with nothing, not even my phone!"

The door was unlocked, but Hale was nowhere in sight. Must have realized his stunt was childish and gone into hiding.

Gabriel grabbed his stuff and hurried to the underground parking lot. He had no time to wait for a cab. The doctor said to avoid driving long distances, but home to the office wasn’t that long. Just thirty minutes.

He felt fine anyway. His hands were steady, his vision clear. It’s not like he had to live his life wrapped in bubble wrap.

Still, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered, "You could die anytime," in the voice of his neurologist. Gabriel silenced it and got in the car. Either way, it was one more motivator to do things his way this time.

The office was all the same, scent of polished wood and fresh coffee wafting through the air.

Gabriel exchanged quick greetings on the way. Smile and nod, he told himself.

As the silver elevator ascended to the conference room, he could almost sense Hale’s presence lurking nearby.

He pulled the tall door open and slipped in through the crack.

Inside, the long, sleek table stretched before him, members of the board seated with his uncle at the head, laying out his plans.

The buzz of discussion fell silent as they noticed Gabriel. The meeting had been going for at least fifteen minutes.

The evil spirit responsible for Gabriel’s bad returning impressions stood right behind Sam’s back, scrutinizing Gabriel from his corner with a "hmph."

"Gabriel," a sickly man in a flawlessly ironed suit rose from his near-end seat with a smile that ended under his sunken eyes. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, sir," Gabriel gave a nod to his father and took the empty seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Glad to see you’re back on your feet," Sam added, his eyes unreadable. "Now that you’ve joined us, let’s begin the meeting."

The board members offered polite nods before turning back to Sam. They looked like ghosts tethered to their chairs—one tapping the table in a dull rhythm, another staring blankly at the agenda with a motionless pen.

During his time being dead and away from the office, Gabriel had forgotten how lifeless the corporate life could be. Even a hitman’s eyes held more life than those of the people here.

Gabriel sighed, trying not to bounce his leg. He glanced at his phone under the table. Still no sign of Kant. What was he doing? Was he alright? Was he... alive? Gabriel paled at the thought.

Hale circled him with a frown. "Father and son, both of them ill. Both try to hide it. Except," he pointed to the hollow-faced William, "the truth eventually becomes obvious. It is but a matter of time."

Gabriel glanced at his father. He looked even worse than a few days ago when they met at the hospital, like he was about to kick the bucket from suppressed resentment. What happened?

"We’ve continued exploring partnerships in Sicily," Sam spoke. "With the rising potential for tourism and the current low cost of properties, this is an opportunity we cannot afford to miss."

Ah, that’s what happened.

William shook his head, his voice hoarse but stubborn, "While the potential in Sicily is intriguing, our core business relies heavily on domestic investments. Venturing too far afield could jeopardize our stability."

Sam leaned forward, a confident smile spreading across his face. "I appreciate your concerns, William, but I’ve done my due diligence on this."

He gestured to a sleek presentation slide that flickered to life on the screen behind him. Charts and graphs illuminated the room, showcasing rising profit margins and estimated return on investment.

"The tourism boom has been steadily increasing," Sam continued. "The Mediterranean appeal, coupled with low property costs, positions us to generate substantial earnings. I estimate a profit increase of over thirty percent in just the first few years."

A murmur of interest swept through the board members, their eyes shifting between Sam and the projected figures.

Gabriel felt a twinge of unease as he watched his father’s frown deepening. The man hated taking risks, no matter what they were.

Under William’s chairmanship, Byers Holdings had seen no significant losses, but also no major gains. In fact, it was Sam who had pushed for innovation and landed high-value projects, bringing the company out of stagnation.

Hale, however, seemed to be on William’s side, firing up. "Money, money, money—everything’s always about money with you," the evil spirit muttered at Sam. "You go against everyone’s will and pocket all that you can. Greed is a sin!"

"Wrath is also a sin," Gabriel whispered under his breath.

Hale whipped to Gabriel, pointing a finger at him across the long table. "You dare mock me? It’s only thanks to me that you’re alive right now!"

Gabriel averted his eyes. First of all, how did Hale even hear that whisper from so far away? Second of all, being the only one who could hear the evil spirit shout in a room of dignified discussions was enough to make him feel like a crazy person.

"Gabriel, what are your thoughts?" William’s voice snapped him back to the meeting.

Gabriel gave a blank blink. Did he miss a question? "My thoughts?"

"On the proposed expansion into Sicily," Sam clarified, tapping a finger on the documents before him. "What’s your opinion?"

The members’ stares turned to him like spotlights.

"Right, uh..." Gabriel swallowed, gathering his scattered mind.