Chapter 222

“Amazonia Home Service?”

Anna stared at the truck on the CCTV footage in disbelief. She had gotten the recording from a neighbor whose house stood diagonally across from hers. The security camera pointed at the street had caught sight of a large white van with the Amazonia Home Service logo printed on the side.

Amazonia Home Service was a company that installed appliances and sometimes collected old electronics for disposal.

But Anna hadn’t ordered any appliances, nor had she requested an installation. Yet the van lingered in front of her house for a long time. The vehicle was visible, but the glare on the windshield made it impossible to see inside. Whoever was in the driver’s seat must have gotten in and out from the side facing away from the camera. The glass reflected just a sliver of the opposite side of the street.

After a while, the van rocked heavily, as if something heavy had been loaded. Then someone climbed quickly into the driver’s seat and the van pulled away.

Replaying the footage, pausing and zooming in, Anna finally caught a faint glimpse of the driver’s profile. She exhaled hard and pressed her palm to her forehead.

“Baekgyeong?”

It had only been a moment, but she had seen him clearly: Baekgyeong’s side profile, jaw tight, driving away with a feral scowl.

“So it really was true. He’s alive.”

Recently, every news outlet had been filled with stories about Chairwoman Choi Baekhee’s death and Baekgyeong’s disappearance. However short their acquaintance had been, Anna had worried for his safety. Now, seeing him again, still wearing that same vicious expression, she couldn’t help but let out a dry, incredulous laugh. Books& Literature

She rewound the footage again and carefully jotted down the license plate of the van. Why had Baekgyeong disguised himself as an appliance service worker? The question unsettled her. If he had only asked, she would have given him rut suppressants and anesthetics as much as he needed.

Besides, in her possession were the car Baekgyeong had left behind, forged IDs, and even a stack of prepaid phones still in their packaging.

“Who was in that van?”

It was a cargo van, windowless from the second row back. She couldn’t see inside at all. But judging by the way the van had jolted, if it wasn’t heavy cargo, then someone must have been sitting in the back. On top of that, Baekgyeong had taken suppressants and tranquilizer rounds in preparation for rut. Anna’s pulse spiked. Could it have been Lewis?

Now that she had the license plate number, she could track Baekgyeong’s movements and uncover the truth. But there was one serious problem with the plan: she no longer had access to run vehicle numbers at the station. The Chief had caught on to her habit of slipping into the police database through Ria Carter.

“If there’s no way, then I’ll just make one.”

There was one place untouched by the Chief’s reach that still had access to ALPR data: the private contractors who processed traffic citations. Anna was about to shut down her laptop to prepare when something caught her eye.

On the taskbar, an unfamiliar program was running—something she hadn’t installed. It had two unread notifications. She hovered the cursor over it, ready to uninstall without checking, but stopped cold.

It was Peoplebook Messenger.

She remembered suddenly. Siron had installed that program.

Could Yoon Siron have tried to contact her through it? A shiver ran down her spine as she opened the messenger—only to deflate. There was nothing from Siron. The messages were from Joan Welch’s younger sister, Kelly Welch.

“They’re even from yesterday.”

A little let down, she clicked them open anyway.

[Kelly Welch]: Hello, Ron. The messages we exchanged before have been weighing on me, so I came to Helso to look for Joan. Thankfully, I was introduced to a government program for missing persons. I was also invited to a support group for people who’ve lost family to sudden accidents, and I’m on my way there now. I hate to admit it, but it really seems like my brother is missing.

[Kelly Welch]: I’ll be staying in Helso for a while. Ron, I really want to meet you.

[Kelly Welch]: Leaving my contact number as well. Please call me. 858-555-XXXX

Anna’s expression darkened after reading. A cold unease crawled through her. Searching for Joan Welch, Kelly might end up disappearing too—just like Lewis and Siron.

“Am I overthinking this?”

She massaged the stiff muscles at the back of her neck, muttering to herself. If Kelly had found a support group for grieving families, it had to be People Who Overcame Sorrow. That warm, tight-knit circle leaned on each other, and they would never harm her. Especially since the group’s central figure was none other than the infamously virtuous Jackson Cliff.

But still... who knows.

Recent events had all defied reason. She couldn’t take anything for granted anymore. Anna jotted Kelly’s number down on paper, clenched her fist for focus, and rose from her chair. First, she needed to track Baekgyeong.

The weather had been miserable since dawn, rain starting and stopping without end. Baekgyeong, Siron, and Isaac had come to a warehouse-style electronics outlet in the northeast of Baggers City. It was a paradise for machine maniacs, selling everything from 1950s cathode-ray TVs to aerospace satellite parts.

The heavy rain had left the parking lot mostly empty. Siron and Baekgyeong parked close to the entrance, waiting for Isaac. Siron imagined him inside—pushing a cart with military seriousness, eyes glittering, shopping for gadgets like a soldier on a mission.

“How the hell does Isaac just know everything?” Siron asked suddenly, genuine awe in his voice.

“Probably learned it at school,” Baekgyeong muttered sourly.

“What kind of school teaches you how to hack a car?”

The sarcasm made Baekgyeong’s face harden. His sharp eyes flared with irritation.

It had been three days since the governor’s press conference about the executions.

They still had no hard proof tying Gezar Bazelli to Somora Prison under his false identity, only strong suspicion.

Since they had to contact Gezar somehow, they had accepted Baekgyeong’s proposal—at least in part. They would bug the governor’s home and his car.

That hadn’t been the original plan. The best way to access the governor’s secrets was hacking his phone through Bluetooth. But he kept the function switched off, as did his secretary and chauffeur. Isaac had risked approaching his circle twice, but both attempts had failed. Their fallback option—the state office—was locked down with surveillance cameras everywhere and entry requiring facial scans. In the end, they had no choice but to shift their plan toward wiretapping his home and car, where he spent most of his time.

“And what exactly are we supposed to do with a bugged car? It’s not like his phone,” Baekgyeong sneered.

Siron narrowed his eyes. “Idiot.”

Baekgyeong’s jaw dropped. He turned on Siron, furious. “The fuck did you just say?”

“Are you glaring at me right now?” Siron’s voice went cold.

Baekgyeong froze, caught. “Fuck, no—I wasn’t glaring! It’s just my damn eyes!”

“Fuck? Listen. I’m not the Yoon Siron from back then. Piss me off now, and you’ll be lucky if I let you guard a doghouse.”

Siron bared his teeth, scrunching his nose like a snarling animal. Ever since sleeping with Baekgyeong, he found himself throwing out warnings like yellow cards at every provocation. Baekgyeong had no leverage against him now, and Siron took full advantage.

“You called me pathetic first!” Baekgyeong snapped, his face flushed red with the effort of holding back.

“And you are pathetic,” Siron shot back.

Baekgyeong sucked in a long breath, face trembling with restraint. If he spoke now, he’d only spit out words that would set Siron off. Only after a long moment did he manage to answer in a voice chilled by effort.

“I can learn. I’d be fucking brilliant if I wanted to. If I’d fought in the field like Isaac, I’d have solved world peace already. You saw my shooting. I could take the place of a national champion.”

“Bragging,” Siron said coolly.

But secretly, he enjoyed the sight of Baekgyeong so utterly helpless against him. He turned his gaze to his laptop, feigning disinterest, though his mind replayed the image of Baekgyeong holding up a bullet-riddled target with a cocky grin.

Over the past three days, while Isaac shadowed the governor, Baekgyeong and Siron had been training at the gun range. The rented house stood far from any neighbors, so they could fire without worry.

At first, Baekgyeong’s shooting had been pathetic. But in just one day, his skill had sharpened noticeably. His memory was just as sharp—he had memorized entire maps of Baggers City and Camtiva Island in no time. Maybe it was thanks to his recovery after the brain tumor surgery, or maybe alphas were simply built that way. Either way, Baekgyeong was improving day by day.