At the dinner table, it was clear that both Owen's mother and Amanda enjoyed McCall's company.
McCall was incredibly well-traveled and knowledgeable about different cultures. He even spoke about his experiences in China and demonstrated an impressive understanding of Chinese cuisine.
He had a refined way of speaking—never rushed, always composed. His high emotional intelligence ensured that conversations remained engaging and that no one felt left out. His effortless charm made everyone feel at ease.
Throughout dinner, the four of them had a great time. Though Owen's mother and McCall tried to be subtle, Owen still noticed something unusual between them. There was a certain chemistry—a mutual attraction that they both carefully concealed.
So that's why I've been seeing McCall around the house so often lately…
Owen thought about it, but he had no objections. Ever since his father passed away, his mother had raised him and Amanda alone. Now that Owen was an adult and Amanda was nearly grown, it was time for their mother to have her own life again.
From what Owen knew, McCall had been married once, but his wife had died in a car accident. Since then, he had remained single, living an almost unbelievably disciplined life.
Although his mother was white and McCall was Black, that didn't matter to Owen. If they truly loved each other, race wasn't an issue.
The only uncertainty was McCall's background—it was obvious he wasn't an ordinary man. But he had stated clearly that he was retired.
From McCall's actions, Owen could tell he wasn't a bad person. Maybe, like Owen himself, his profession had required a certain secrecy.
After all, aside from the basic fact that he worked for CTU, Owen's job details were classified—even talking in his sleep could be a problem.
Once dinner was over, McCall bid farewell. Since they were neighbors, his house was just 50 meters across the street. Owen walked him to the door and, seeing that no one was around, caught up to him.
"Mr. McCall, I really appreciate everything you've done for my family," Owen said sincerely. He knew McCall had deliberately trained Amanda in self-defense.
McCall, as always, had a warm smile.
"No need to thank me. Your mother is a good woman, and Amanda is a bright and lovely girl," he replied casually.
Owen saw that McCall wasn't going to elaborate, so he didn't push the topic. He had another request in mind anyway.
"Actually, Mr. McCall, I have a favor to ask. It might be a bit presumptuous."
McCall stopped walking and gestured for Owen to continue.
"You probably know what kind of trouble I've gotten myself into," Owen said. "For their safety, I won't be coming home much in the near future. Even though I've installed a security system and have friends at the police department keeping an eye out, I'd still feel a lot better if you could watch over them. I'm afraid someone might try to get revenge on them…"
McCall didn't look the least bit surprised.
"Alright. I will."
His response was simple—so simple that it almost caught Owen off guard. He had expected a bit more discussion, maybe some convincing. Instead, McCall agreed as if Owen had just asked him to water his plants while he was away.
Looking at McCall, Owen sometimes felt like he was just an ordinary, kind-hearted book lover who enjoyed helping others.
"Uh… thanks. I really appreciate it."
Owen felt a lot more at ease. He didn't expect McCall to eliminate threats before they even appeared, like last time, but just knowing that he would step in if something happened was enough.
Owen had already decided—when he got home, he would change the security system's alarm from silent mode to an audible alarm. That way, McCall would definitely hear it if anything happened.
With that taken care of, Owen felt a weight lifted off his shoulders and was about to leave when McCall motioned for him to follow.
"Come with me. I have something for you."
McCall turned and walked toward his house, leaving Owen to follow curiously.
Owen had a guess—McCall was probably going to give him a book.
McCall was known in the neighborhood for his love of reading. He also loved gifting books—he had just given Amanda one earlier.
Following McCall inside, the first thing Owen saw was an entire wall of bookshelves. A half-read book was lying open on the desk.
"Wait here. I need to find something. Oh, and you can take the item under that book," McCall said while searching through the shelves.
Curious, Owen walked over to the desk, lifted the book, and found a karambit knife underneath.
He knew this weapon well.
Originally from Bali, the karambit was a popular self-defense weapon in Indonesia and Malaysia. Its distinctive curved blade had an almost sinister aesthetic, drawing attention immediately.
Owen had owned one before. Training with it was dangerous—one wrong move, and you could slice your own thumb off. He had seen several guys from his old crew end up in the hospital because of it.
"No, no, Mr. McCall. This is too valuable—I can't accept it," Owen said, shaking his head.
He wasn't a novice. Even a standard karambit cost at least a few dozen dollars. Judging by the craftsmanship, this one was custom-made—it probably cost thousands.
Owen said he couldn't accept it, but in truth, he couldn't take his eyes off it.
Just holding it, he could tell it was no ordinary weapon. The grip, the blade material, the overall design—everything exuded a lethal elegance. It was impossible not to admire it.
"Found it."
McCall closed the bookshelf and handed Owen a small box. Owen took it and realized it was a set of VHS tapes.
"The knife is yours. I've watched you—you're fast and agile. A karambit suits your fighting style. The tapes contain training footage—classified material from special units. You'll need to return them when you're done watching."
"I…"
Owen wanted to refuse, but when McCall mentioned classified training footage, he hesitated.
Just from common sense, he knew this was the real deal. Between the karambit and the tapes, the latter was probably even more valuable.
"Uh…"
Owen was caught in an internal struggle.
McCall, however, had already moved on. "Do you know how to use it? If you do, let's spar. No pressure."
Owen immediately understood—McCall wanted to test his skills.
Owen also wanted to show that he was worthy of the weapon. He didn't want McCall thinking he was wasting a good blade on an amateur.
"Of course. In that case, I won't hold back."
Owen slipped his index finger into the karambit's ring and spun it, executing a flashy twirl.
McCall raised an eyebrow slightly, unimpressed. In truth, Owen wasn't that skilled—he had originally picked up the karambit just because it looked cool. Most of what he had practiced was showy knife-flipping rather than actual combat techniques.
McCall nodded, signaling for Owen to start.
Owen knew McCall was a formidable opponent. He didn't rush in recklessly but instead approached slowly.
The karambit danced in his hand, flashing through the air as he closed the distance. Owen swung twice, and McCall swiftly stepped back, evading the strikes effortlessly.
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