Mr. Quest, the founder of Quest Organization, stood inside his room, looking through the wall glass that overlooked the whole city. His hands were in his pockets, he had his dark shades on, white mustache and beard growing on his face, and all of them were hiding the flaws, the scars, the nightmare of before. He was serious as if he was thinking about something grimly important. Or might as well say, remembered something important that would certainly be forever encrypted not only on his skin, but also in his mind.
Exactly thirty years ago, it was silent that night, the only thing heard was the crickets, the crunching of the woods burning, and the brushing of leaves of the trees from the strong air. It was peaceful, to say the least. But the ten people, surrounding the bonfire in their ow
