Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

John was reading when two men entered the room.

He did not look up at once.

The room was quiet, with tall shelves on one side and a wide desk near the window. A cup of tea sat untouched beside his hand. The men stopped a few steps away from the desk and waited because both of them knew better than to interrupt him too quickly.

After a few seconds, John turned a page.

"Speak."

The first man bowed his head. "Sir, we contacted the people your father told us about. Your father passed this matter to you, so I am reporting directly. They are asking for assistance inside this city. They want help establishing themselves, introductions, a few safe movement routes, and access to two local officials."

He placed a folded paper on the desk.

John finally looked at it.

He read the list once.

"What do we get?"

The man hesitated.

"Sir, this came from your father. His instruction was that we assist them without asking for payment first." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

John’s eyes moved from the paper to the man.

"If my father has pushed this matter onto me, then I will handle it my way."

The man lowered his head further.

John placed the paper on the desk. "Ask them what they are offering us. If they want this city opened for them, they should know that doors have a price."

"Yes, sir."

The man left at once.

Another assistant remained behind. He was the one John had assigned to look into Adam.

John picked up the paper again and read it more carefully.

The requests were not large by themselves. A safe warehouse, two officials, a quiet route through the industrial district, and a few names that could be contacted without public meetings. But small requests were sometimes more dangerous than big ones. They meant the other side knew what it needed.

That made the matter worth watching.

John closed the book and stood.

Not long after that, his car stopped near the park where Adam had first woken up after returning.

The place looked ordinary in daylight. Old benches, tired trees, a cracked path, and a few people walking through without looking at anything too closely. John stepped out of the car and stood near the same stretch of ground where everything should have been simple.

His assistant stood a few steps behind him.

John took out his phone and sent one message.

Within minutes, three boys arrived.

They came together but stopped apart, as if each one wanted the others to be blamed first. All three looked nervous the moment they saw John.

John watched them for a while before speaking.

"When I told you to come here that day, you still failed to do your work."

"John, it was not like that," one of them said quickly.

John walked forward, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled him close enough that the boy’s breath shook against his face.

"Where is Adam?"

"We don’t know," the boy said, voice breaking. "We came that day, but he wasn’t here. We searched. We really searched."

"You searched where?"

"The park, the road, the hostel side, the tea stalls. We asked around too, but no one had seen him."

John held him for another second, then released him.

The boy stumbled back.

John turned away and placed one finger against his temple.

This was wrong.

Adam should have been visible somewhere.

John had not sent those boys because they were skilled. He had sent them because they were ordinary. Ordinary people were useful for ordinary searches. They could walk into cheap places, ask stupid questions, and be ignored by everyone. If even they could not find a trace, then Adam had not simply wandered away.

If a man lost his university place, his hostel, his money, and his direction in one day, he did not disappear cleanly. He begged someone. He found an old contact. He went to the police, the university office, a friend, a cheap room, a village bus, something.

But Adam had not appeared in any simple place.

John looked at his assistant.

"Where did Adam come from originally? Do we know exactly?"

The assistant stiffened.

"Sir, I will find out."

John’s expression did not change, but his patience thinned.

There were only a few possibilities. Adam might have run back to his parents, but that did not fit the person John had read. Adam was weak in position, not weak in mind. He would not run that easily, not without trying to understand why everything had collapsed around him.

That left the second possibility.

Adam might have realized he was being framed.

That was more dangerous.

If Adam had understood even a small part of the trap, then disappearing was not panic. It was defense.

John started walking slowly along the path.

"If he guessed someone was framing him," John said, speaking more to himself than to anyone else, "then he should have come toward me at some point. He knew me. He did not have enough information to look elsewhere first."

The assistant did not answer.

John stopped.

The thing that bothered him most was not Adam himself. An unknown variable had entered the shape of the plan, and unknown variables were dangerous because they could not be weighed.

John trusted his reading of people. Adam had pride, but not enough strength. He had anger, but no reach. He had intelligence, but no stage to use it on. That was the person John had seen, and yet that person had vanished.

He turned back to the three boys.

"Do you know Adam’s original friends?"

The boys looked at each other.

"We have not seen many," one said. "Mostly with you and Monica."

John waved his hand.

They left quickly.

Soon only John and his assistant remained near the old bench.

John looked at the park for a while.

"Adam," he said softly, "did you find out about me?"

The thought brought a smile to his face.

"This is more entertaining than I expected. You may be smarter than I thought."

Then John turned and walked back to his car.