BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Chapter 633 I don't want to do this.

An hour had passed, and Erik found himself in his office, sitting behind his desk and lost in thought.

The door creaked open, an old tune that echoed in the quiet room, announcing Rebecca's arrival. She stepped inside, her movements as graceful as a panther on the prowl.

Her lustrous black hair, free from any restraint, cascaded down her back in gentle waves, catching the dim light and lending her an ethereal glow.

She wore a tailored blazer over a crisp white blouse; the fabric hugging her form in a manner that was both professional and subtly alluring. A pair of dark trousers completed her ensemble, accentuating her lean figure. The outfit was a stunning blend of aesthetics and functionality, much like Rebecca herself - a harmonious balance of beauty and strength.

As she walked towards the couch, her posture straight and confident, she broke the silence. Her voice was as smooth as velvet, yet carried an underlying note of steel. "So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, her gaze steady and unwavering. Her presence was as captivating as it was intimidating, a testament to the extraordinary woman she was.

Erik looked up, and for a moment, he was caught off guard by her beauty. Her movements were graceful, almost ethereal, as she glided across the room.

The soft lighting cast a warm glow on her skin, accentuating the delicate curve of her neck and the gentle slope of her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and concern, and her lips were slightly parted as she awaited his response.

He gestured for her to sit down, unable to take his eyes off her. As she settled onto the couch, crossing her legs and leaning back, Erik said something she didn't quite expect him to say.

Erik's voice broke the silence, a low rumble that resonated in the room. "I don't really know how to say this," he began, his words coming out slightly hoarse, like gravel under a heavy wheel.

He paused, his gaze fixed on a nondescript spot on the floor, as he wrestled with what was threatening to spill from his lips.

His fingers clenched unconsciously, the only visible sign of his internal struggle. His jaw tightened, and he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. The room seemed to shrink with the weight of his next words; the air growing thick with unspoken tension.

"But I really think you must head back to Nokisi Point," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, like a heavy fog, their implications sinking into the silence that followed.

He looked into her eyes, but of course, she couldn't see them. However, if she could, she could have seen them revealing a turmoil of emotions - regret, concern, and a hint of reluctance.

These were not the words he wanted to utter, but circumstances had backed him into a corner.

Her eyes widened, and a look of confusion crossed her face. "Why?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine surprise. "What's going on?"

He hesitated, his mind racing. He knew he couldn't tell her the real reason; Rebecca came for the quest the guild gave, but since what Erik was going to do was probably bound to go against the guild, he didn't want to put her in danger.

The information he had uncovered was too sensitive, too dangerous. But he also knew that he had to send her away to keep her safe.

"I can't tell you," he said finally, his voice firm but filled with regret. "I need you to trust me on this."

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for answers. But all she found was his mask and a wall of determination, a resolve that she couldn't penetrate.

The words tumbled from her lips, a mixture of disbelief and hurt. "You're sending me away?" She echoed, her voice fracturing under the weight of her shock. The room seemed to echo her sentiments, the silence amplifying the sting of his declaration.

Her eyes, usually so full of curiosity and intelligence, were now clouded with confusion and a touch of betrayal. Her hands clenched at her sides, the knuckles whitening.

"Just like that. Without an explanation?" Her voice rose at the end, a question that hung heavily in the air. The accusation was clear in her tone, a sharp contrast to the usual calm composure she held.

The disbelief etched across her face was as palpable as the tension that now filled the room. Erik's words had hit her like a physical blow, leaving her grappling for answers.

He reached out, wanting to comfort her, but she pulled away, her eyes filled with hurt. "I thought we were friends," she continued, her voice trembling with emotion.

"We are," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. In the past month, Rebecca's relationship with Erik had developed into something deeper than mere friendship.

She had taken a huge liking to him, finding Erik a rare and refreshing person. Though the daughter of a guild that was far bigger and more powerful than his, she had never encountered someone her age who could stand on the same ground.

In the gilded world of the rich and privileged, Rebecca was an object of fascination and envy. She moved among people whose wealth was surpassed only by their ambition, individuals who were always weaker both physically and in spirit, yet constantly vying for her attention.

They sought her favor not for who she was, but for the influence she wielded and the doors her lineage could open. It was a dance of social politics, a game she was forced to partake in, that left her feeling like a prized artifact rather than a human being.

She was objectified, her worth measured by the power of her mother's name. Every smile directed her way was calculated, every compliment laden with ulterior motives. The superficiality of it all left a bitter taste in her mouth, a hollowness that echoed in the hollow laughter and insincere toasts of high society.

Erik, however, stood apart from this world. He was a stark contrast to the glittering façade of privilege and power she was accustomed to. He treated her with genuine respect and equality, acknowledging her for her strengths and intellect rather than her lineage.

To Erik, Rebecca was not an asset to be leveraged or a tool to curry favor with her influential mother. He saw her as an individual - strong, intelligent, and fiercely independent.

His interactions with her were devoid of any pretense or hidden agendas, a refreshing change from the constant manipulation and deceit she faced in her world.

In Erik's presence, Rebecca felt seen and valued for who she was as a person rather than the social capital she represented. It was this stark difference, this genuine respect and acknowledgment, that set Erik apart from the others and made their current situation all the more difficult to bear.

Despite being more powerful than her, Erik never treated her with contempt, something many in his position would have done. His respect for her was genuine, his interest in her was real, and it had nothing to do with her status or her family's wealth.

As the days turned into weeks, Rebecca found herself drawn to Erik in ways she hadn't expected. A subtle crush had blossomed, adding layers of complexity to their relationship.

And all this while, she had never even seen his face nor told him her feelings. His actions and his words had spoken to her, touching her heart in a way that went beyond mere physical attraction.

So when Erik asked her to go back to Nokisi Point, it hurt. It was more than just a professional decision; it felt like a personal rejection. His refusal to explain only added to her confusion and pain.

She couldn't help but feel that she was being pushed away, that something she valued was being taken from her without reason.

Erik's request was not just a mission directive; it was a severing of a connection that had become precious to her. It left her feeling lost and betrayed, struggling to reconcile the person she thought she knew with the decision he had made.

"Is it because of what happened today? Because I berated you for what you did to that man?"

"No," he said, his voice filled with torment. "It's not that…"

She stared at him, disbelief written all over her face. "So what is it, then? Did you find something on that computer?"

He looked at her, his heart aching, knowing that he was causing her pain. But he knew it was necessary and that he had no choice but to send her away.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "But with how things are right now, and how I think they will end up, I think it's better you go back to the capital."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. But behind it all, he saw a flicker of understanding, realizing that there was more to this than he was letting on.

"Tell me why, Erik!" she shouted.

Erik studied her, his gaze intense and probing. Her reaction baffled him. They had known each other for a mere month and a half, yet her response felt heavy, laden with an emotional depth that seemed disproportionate to their acquaintance.

"Rebecca, do not make me repeat myself," he said, his voice firm yet laced with an undercurrent of regret. His words were a command, but his eyes, if she could have seen them, pleaded for understanding.

Her shoulders sagged slightly, the fight visibly draining from her. "All right," she conceded, her voice barely more than a whisper, filled with the bitter taste of resignation. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence punctuated by the echo of her capitulation.

"But I want you to know that I don't like it," she continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. Her eyes met his, a defiant spark igniting within them. "And I don't understand it."

He nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm sorry."

She stood, her movements still graceful despite the turmoil in her eyes. She walked toward the door, pausing for a moment to look back at him.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Erik," she said, her voice filled with doubt. "Because I'm not sure that you do."

With that, she turned and left, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the heavy burden of the decisions he had made.