Raymond returned to the underground fighting arena to find Helen waiting alone at the entrance.


    "Raymond," she greeted him with a nod.


    With a brief gesture, Raymond indicated that Christopher''s alternate personality should be brought in. Helen raised an eyebrow as she examined the face that bore some resemnce to Raymond''s, then immediately ordered her people toply.


    Christopher''s alter had been restrained with iron chains, suspended so that only his toes touched the ground. He remained unconscious from their earlier encounter.


    When Raymond had initially met him, he''d imed to want to make a deal-right before drugging him and bringing him to the arena.


    "Wake him up," Raymond instructed a nearby guard.


    Cold water sshed across the alternate personality''s face. His eyshes fluttered before he slowly opened his eyes. Upon seeing the imposing man seated before him, his eyebrow arched slightly as he adopted Christopher''s gentle tone. "Raymond, what is the meaning of this?"


    Raymond sat in a ck chair, radiating authority. Despite the incongruity of his tailored suit in the fighting arena, hismanding presence was undeniable.


    "This is neutral territory. You''re currently on the seventh level of the underground fighting arena."


    Christopher''s alternate personality raised an eyebrow again. With his connections in Vistalia, he certainly knew about this fighting arena-but he hadn''t expected it to be Raymond''s operation.


    It was surprising. So Raymond was "God," the mysterious figure controlling this ce.


    Mentally, he tried tomunicate with Christopher. "Raymond is more formidable than I thought, controlling the underground arena. Makes me want to kill him even more. Think I''ll get the chance, Christopher?"


    Christopher didn''t respond. He hadn''t manifested for so long that his alternate had begun to wonder if he had truly disappeared.


    Unable to connect with Christopher, the alternate returned his attention to Raymond- only to be stunned by his next words.


    "If Christopher is the primary personality, what do we call the secondary one?"


    Raymond''s tone was casual, as if discussing multiple personalities was an everyday urrence.


    The alternate''s expression instantly hardened as he recalled that Raymond had infiltrated his vi for several days, carrying on an affair with Selena right under his nose. He must have overheard something about the dual personalities.


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    Deciding there was little point in maintaining his charade, he dropped Christopher''s gentle demeanor. His features sharpened with hostility as he stared directly at Raymond.


    Raymond responded with a swift movement, his knifeing dangerously close to slicing the man''s throat.


    The alternate didn''t flinch. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and gave a lightugh. "Raymond, press that knife a little harder, and Christopher dies for good. Selena owes him. You owe him too. Would you really stand by and watch him die?"


    Raymond''s response was to swing the knife again, this time nearly cutting the man''s face.


    Regardless of gender, most people cherish their appearance. The alternate''s eyes darkened immediately, his previous flippant attitude vanishing.


    His gaze darted around the room. This wasn''t Silver Bay City. Ralph wasn''t here. For Raymond to bring him to this ce must have required significant resources and nning.


    With a shrug of his shoulders, he conceded the situation. "Very well, what do you want? You''ve gone to considerable trouble to bring me here."


    "You''ve been to the research facility. I want you to recall everything about it. Every detail."


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    This amused the alternate, whoughed openly before restraining himself, wary of Raymond''s knife.


    "If I knew anything useful about the research facility, why would I have stayed inactive


    in Silver Bay City? I still need those people to help me expel Christopher from this body permanently."


    As he spoke, his eyes scanned the surroundings again. A strange feeling came over him a sense of familiarity, as if he''d been here before.


    But that was impossible. Even with his connections in Vistalia, he had never visited this fighting arena. This was neutral territory; appearing here in any capacity would have raised suspicions among other nations.


    "Raymond," he said suddenly, "isn''t there a wine cab about a hundred feet to your left?"


    Raymond''s brow furrowed. There had indeed been a wine cab in exactly that location-years ago. The arena had undergone renovations, and the cab had been relocated to another floor.


    Christopher''s alter had allegedly never been here before. How could he possibly know that?


    The seventh level was highly restricted-even Raymond''s personal bodyguards weren''t permitted entry. Only the arena''s senior management had ess.


    So how did Christopher''s alternate personality know?