The war between the neurons in Leheb’s mind had finally been won by the ones opposing the organization.

“As I said, it was a ship,” he began, “but it will be very difficult for me to pinpoint its location.”

“After crossing the German border, we traveled for seven or eight hours. I could tell from the sound of the engine that the vehicle was a truck. It was thoroughly searched by dogs.

After we moved again, we drove for another hour and a half, maybe two. Then they pulled me out of the vehicle. From the sound of waves, I realized I was being put onto a boat.

We must have sailed for about ten hours, and every hour or so we stopped— I think they refueled at marinas along the way. The places we reached could have been islands, or coastal port towns.From the cries of seagulls, I can tell the ship anchored no more than a few miles from shore.”

“Didn’t you look around at all when you boarded the leader’s ship?” Mark asked.

“My eyes were covered from the moment the journey began.
When I boarded the ship, the blindfold was removed only after I was placed in a dark cargo hold. It was so dim and shadowed that even though I saw the man’s face, I couldn’t make out his features. Or rather—because the moment I saw him my headache peaked—I couldn’t imprint his face into my memory.”

Mark exchanged a glance with Süleyman, then said:

“Leheb, believe me or don’t—I am not saying this just to pull you to our side. You are a good person. Bright souls do not willingly enter the houses of darkness, and the dark do not walk into places of light. But when this law is forced, what you described happens: light suffers. For all the wrong you’ve been involved in, it is clear that your core intention has never been evil.”

Leheb didn’t know how to respond. He was caught somewhere between shame, hope, and regret.
He simply continued:

“After leaving Germany, we may have gone to the far end of Spain, or to a coastal city of Italy bordering the Mediterranean. This ship could be somewhere in the Mediterranean.

Maybe they kept me on the yacht for eight or nine hours just to deceive me— to make me think we had travelled far. Maybe we went from Spain or France to an island close to America. But then how do I explain refueling every hour? I don’t know.”

“There is no rule that a vessel must reach land to refuel. A larger ship may have supplied fuel at sea.”

“It couldn’t have been toward Russia on the eastern side of Germany.
Because thorough searches with dogs are usually done where the borders of the European Union end. The eastern border of the EU is nowhere near seven or eight hours away from Germany.”

While Süleyman was thinking, his homeland came to mind. He remembered he would soon have to travel there for the holiday— the long road, the endless border queues, the hours of waiting.

Then it hit him: the journey Leheb described was oddly similar to the journeys he himself made to his homeland.

“Leheb must have gone to Turkey,” he said, and began to explain.

“That checkpoint with the dogs must have been the İpsala border crossing.
From there to the Sea of Marmara takes roughly two hours—just as Leheb described. If you ask where they could have gone after that ten-hour yacht trip…”

Süleyman unfolded a map showing Turkey, Greece, the Mediterranean, the Middle East, and the states south of the Mediterranean, and continued:

“After passing through the Dardanelles into the Aegean Sea, they could have taken fuel from any of the hundreds of Greek islands—large or small—and stayed somewhere around the Peloponnese. Unless it was a specially modified yacht, no vessel could carry enough fuel to sail from the Peloponnese all the way down to Egypt or Libya.”

“And according to what Leheb described, there was an hour between the final stop and the previous one. A yacht or speedboat leaving the Peloponnese cannot reach a southern Mediterranean coast in an hour. Impossible.”

Süleyman continued with “the second possibility”:

“They could have gone north from the Sea of Marmara, passed the Bosphorus Bridge, and entered the Black Sea. But it would be irrational to think they went to Sevastopol, Odessa, or any other coastal city across the Black Sea. It’s at least seven or eight hundred kilometers in a straight line.

If that were the destination, it would have been far more logical to travel to Crimea by land from Germany instead of coming all the way to Turkey and then doubling back.”

“Couldn’t they have entered the Black Sea and then sailed parallel to Turkey’s northern coast?” Mark asked.
“That way, they could refuel from land every hour if needed.”

He looked at Süleyman.

The mustached demon-hunter pushed his lower lip outward, shaking his head slightly.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said.

“Because along the Black Sea coast, there are very few places where you can refuel a vessel.
In the eastern Black Sea, yes, you might find stations for fishing boats.
But in the central and western regions, they are extremely rare.

Unlike the Mediterranean, there are no coastal towns catering to tourists with marinas for yachts or speedboats. So, the availability of fuel stations there is practically nonexistent.”

Mark suddenly realized that Süleyman had solved the problem without even noticing.
He burst into laughter, as usual.

“Süleyman, you’re a genius—though you don’t know it.”

He continued:

“In the first scenario you suggested, the yacht passed through the Dardanelles into the Aegean Sea—but did not enter Greek islands. If they intended to go there, why cross through the Turkish border in the first place? They could have entered Greece directly without undergoing a detailed inspection.”

“So what happened after that?” Dr. William asked.

“It’s very simple,” Mark said.

“They sailed parallel to the Turkish coast along the Aegean and Mediterranean. And as Süleyman said earlier, those coasts are full of tourist towns— which means fuel is always available when needed.”

“So the final destination must be somewhere near a coastal city in southern Turkey.
It’s a long stretch of coast—Mersin, Adana, Hatay… even Latakia in Syria could be possible.”

Leheb suddenly remembered an important detail.

“At one point, there was an earthquake that day.I thought the floor was shaking because of a crashing wave. But when one of the crew members told Demos—the leader’s deputy—I heard it was a mild quake.”

Süleyman searched the internet for earthquakes from the date Leheb mentioned.
After a moment, he lifted his head from the screen:

“There was a magnitude 4.5 earthquake in Cyprus at that exact time.”

While Mark and the others were trying to pinpoint the location, the TV news bulletin reported that war between the Turkish-controlled north of Cyprus and the Greek-controlled south could erupt at any moment.

Foreign nationals were fleeing the island, and both Turkey and Greece were sending continuous shipments of weapons and ammunition to their allies. Turkish and Greek warships and fighter jets were engaging in near-constant dogfights in the region.

William, who had already read the newspapers on the table, said:

“I didn’t speak earlier so I wouldn’t demoralize you,”
then continued, his face grim:

“We’re not just talking about a Turkey–Greece conflict. Many analysts are saying that this could ignite a Third World War. They’re saying it might escalate into a conflict between two superpowers—East and West.”

Mark then laid bare the organization’s true design:

“In Yugoslavia, the conflict between Bosniaks, Croats, and Serbs—who were all children of the same nation—almost evolved into a Third World War, precisely because Orthodox Russians backed the Serbs, Catholics backed the Croats, and Muslims backed the Bosniaks. It was prevented at the last moment. Ten years ago, this dark organization failed to spark chaos through unexplained and mysterious events.

Now, they want to achieve it through a war in Cyprus.”

The Demon Hunters were searching for a way to defeat the demon they would encounter for the second time, when Süleyman spoke the thought that had suddenly struck him.

“Mark, we forgot Teresa in the middle of all this chaos.

I feared she might be in trouble in Cyprus. I hope what I feared hasn’t happened.

If the one leading this dark organization is the demon inhabiting Murphy’s child—and it seems that way—and if it wants revenge on us, then it will also want revenge on Teresa.”

His partner’s silence made it clear that Süleyman was right. The tense stillness in the room was shattered by Süleyman’s ringing phone. He normally never answered unknown numbers,
but this time he felt compelled to. It was as if the extraordinary situation had triggered the neurons in his frontal lobe to command the motor and peripheral system to pick up the call.

The voice on the other end spoke in a whisper. This could mean two things: either the demon was trying to sound more threatening and convincing, or someone seeking help didn’t want those around her to hear.

Süleyman was about to hang up, but something in his neurons recognized the voice.

“Teresa, is that you? Where are you? How can I help?”

“I’m in Cyprus. They set me up. They interrogated me as if I killed my closest friend. I’m a fugitive now, trying to figure out how to leave the island. But that’s not the real issue.”

Süleyman asked, “Then what is?”

Mark muttered under his breath,
“Well, of course—Teresa must have realized it too. The demon is behind this war game.”

Teresa’s voice trembled:

“He’s here.

At first, people started acting like they’d gone mad—ignoring each other, insulting, and attacking. Suicides increased unbelievably within just a few days. And the lines in front of the hospital for antidepressants… don’t get me started.”

“There must be some kind of electromagnetic wave distorting people’s minds,” Süleyman said.

Teresa answered, “I don’t think so. This time, the one playing the game isn’t a single demon— it’s a planet, if I can even call it that. Long story.”

Süleyman kept to himself the thought that flashed through his mind:

Humankind always feared aliens—creatures with no tangible proof of existence—yet ignored metaphysical beings altogether. And now, instead of aliens, demons might be the ones invading Earth?

He didn’t say it aloud, afraid it would sound like a joke in the wrong moment.

Instead, he simply asked, “What planet?”

“Forget that for now,” she said.

“If we don’t act, war will erupt on the island. You have to find a way to stop it—
and get me out of here.”

Süleyman understood from Mark’s eyes what he was supposed to ask. To ease Teresa’s nerves, he asked in a half-joking tone:

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. Tell us where he is, and—however we manage it—
we’ll finish him this time.”

“Everyone on the island knows where he is,” Teresa said.

“Poseidon—anchored a few miles off the coast— south-east of the northernmost tip of the island, right beside the casino ship.”

Before Süleyman could respond, she continued:

“You decide how to deal with him. But I don’t know how we’re supposed to stop the war— or rather, how we’re supposed to pull Cyprus out of the influence of the demon’s planet.”

Then Teresa explained, step by step, what they needed to do. The Demon Hunters thought the plan might work— in theory.

But when they considered the advanced technology required, they admitted they might struggle to execute it— or fail to carry it out entirely.Just then, Dr. William intervened.

“Leave that part of the plan to me,” William said.
“My friends will take care of it.”

In that moment, the Demon Hunters understood:the role once held by the Italian captain—
the man who always summoned technological favors from his allies—now belonged to Dr. William.

Life was a stage on which the same plays were performed again and again; only the actors changed.

“I’m using a phone from the market,” Teresa said.
“I need to hang up before the staff notices.”

The line went dead.

She didn't know where her sudden survival instinct came from, but the moment she slipped out of the store, she realized she had missed a raid by mere seconds— dozens of uniformed and plainclothes officers flooding inside.

More importantly— she understood, once again, that the same unseen creative will that orchestrated millions of vital processes within her body,in perfect harmony, was also guarding her path— driving her toward a mission: to bring peace and sanity back to the world.

Dr. William left at once to do his part.

Mark turned to Süleyman.

“No need to overthink it. We’ll storm the ship and kill Poseidon. We have enough evidence and testimony against him. The island is already in a war-state— no one will care about law, or proof, or anything else.”

“Alright,” Süleyman said,
“but you know he won’t be alone. Last time, we said the mansion had no guards—
and then we were chased by those black, dog-like abominations. This time, I fear we’ll see sharks crawling out of the sea.

Besides, you know damn well—even when he inhabits a human body, he still keeps his speed and strength. We can’t duel a demon on open ground. We hit fast and kill instantly.”

Leheb stepped forward.

“Let me help you,” he said.
“Poseidon and his only crewman, Demos, know me. They won’t suspect a thing. Even if we fail, they still believe the professor is dead and I’ve been captured. They rely on physical runners, not digital systems— so they probably haven’t heard anything about what happened to me.”

Mark glanced at Süleyman.
“He’s right, but—”

“Give me the chance to fix what I’ve done,” Leheb cut in.

“Fine,” Mark said at last.
“But you follow the plan—exactly. No improvisation.”

“The plan is simple,” Mark continued.

“You’ll plant a C-4 charge—the size of a matchbox—on Poseidon’s yacht and dive into the sea. Seconds later, the blast will take the yacht— and the casino ship beside it— straight to the bottom.”

“Make sure you see him. Make sure you’re on the right yacht. We’ll be listening to you through a device. The second you hit the water— if necessary, we’ll launch a rocket from offshore. We’re sending you because we don’t want to blow up the wrong vessel.”