Chapter 237

Isaac poured saline solution over the deep gash in his hand. It was a wound he had gotten on his left hand while clinging to the steel reinforcement beam of the bridge railing before he dropped into the river. Watching with a stricken expression, Siron handed him the disinfectant, his face twisted with disgust.

Once he finished disinfecting, Isaac quickly dressed the wound. Unfortunately, until it healed, he would have to minimize use of his left hand.

“They already knew you’d show up at the governor’s house. Must have been the bug—they realized it was discovered.”

Baekgyeong said this as he looked at the bandaged hand.

“How does that make sense? Our plan was flawless. We didn’t leave a single trace, and we came back without a single clash. I was a total ninja out there.”

Siron mimed throwing a shuriken as he spoke, making Baekgyeong’s expression harden at the distinctly Japanese-flavored turn of phrase.

“Ninja? When you could have said intelligence operative, why that?”

“Yeah. I slipped up.”

Listening quietly to the two of them, Isaac admitted fault without resistance as he folded the end of the bandage and taped it down tight. Looking at the thickly wrapped hand with displeasure, he let out a soft sigh.

“They must also know I want information about Gezar Bazelli’s execution.”

The governor had already realized his office was under surveillance. He had used that fact to set a trap. He had anticipated that Isaac would infiltrate to rummage through the desk drawers in search of Gezar Bazelli’s execution order. So he had dropped hints deliberately in front of the listening device, staging a little play to make Isaac walk into it of his own accord.

Baekgyeong asked with a grave expression:

“If everything was staged, then is Gezar’s execution date even real? Could be a lie too.”

“There’s no way to know right now. But since it might actually be carried out, we can’t dismiss it outright.”

There was something fishy about the governor’s movements. He’d had clear chances to capture Isaac, yet deliberately let him go without making any attempt. Instead, they planted a tracker on his motorcycle. Their aim was to back-trace the route Isaac would take to return to base.

“If finding your base is a higher priority than capturing you, that means their target right now is our stronghold. You’re the one who said it—those bastards are after Isaac Bazelli, and the two Asian men who escaped the island with him. Are they actually tracking me and Manu Singh?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“What’s with that half-baked tone? ...Don’t tell me you mean they could be going after Yoon Siron instead of Manu Singh?”

“...I can’t rule out the possibility.”

Siron’s face went pale and stiff. Terrified, he whispered:

“Should we move lodgings?”

Isaac shook his head.

“For now, it’s fine. We traveled by boat—they won’t be able to track us.”

“So what do we do now?”

When Siron asked with a lost expression, Isaac answered calmly:

“We stick to the plan—meet the prison warden and persuade him.”

Suspicious, Siron narrowed his eyes.

“You mean, go to his house?”

“The warden’s at Somora Prison. It’s a private residence, but inside the secure facility—hard to reach.”

“Then what?”

“We tail him and kidnap him when the moment’s right.”

“Weren’t we supposed to win him over? If we kidnap him, convincing him won’t be easy. And besides... that’s a crime.”

At Siron’s cautious question, Isaac replied firmly:

“If persuasion fails, then we resort to coercion.”

Watching the two men speak, Baekgyeong suddenly gave a derisive snort.

“Aren’t you two overthinking this?”

“What, you’ve got some easier method?”

Siron shot him a glare that said, What the hell do you know, barging in like that? Baekgyeong, looking triumphant, shook Isaac’s phone in his hand.

“The answer’s right here.”

He pulled up a photo. Isaac frowned as he peered at the screen.

“You mean the charity party?”

“Exactly.”

Baffled, Siron leaned in to look at the zoomed-in photo Baekgyeong showed. The screen displayed an invitation for a “Charity Party for Children of Inmates.”

“Ah! Wait a sec.”

Clapping his hands like he’d just remembered something, Siron opened his laptop and clicked into the Somora Prison homepage’s notice board.

“Oh, here it is. Charity Party for Children of Inmates. Posted ten days ago.”

On Saturday, October 11, a charity dinner event will be held at The Elm Hotel to support children with incarcerated parents.

The event is co-hosted by the Federal and State Correctional Bureau of Helso and Hopeline. Proceeds will fund welfare programs such as psychological counseling, academic support, and basic necessities for children of inmates.

Correctional Bureau officials and Governor Richard Brown are scheduled to attend. Attendance is limited to pre-registered guests, and the event will include on-site speeches and a donation relay.

“At that event, we can approach the prison warden. Leave this one to me.”

Listening to him, Siron asked with a face full of worry:

“And once you approach him, then what? You know we need to win him over.”

“I know.”

“You sure you can pull it off?”

After a moment of thought, Baekgyeong answered honestly:

“I can at least guarantee he’ll hate me.”

Siron shook his head, heavy with concern. Baekgyeong scrolled back through the notice and added:

“You can buy goodwill with money. If the donation is big enough, maybe he’ll grant us a private meeting.”

“You can’t. Your face is too well-known. Don’t forget—you were all over the news as a missing person until recently. And I doubt the warden would care about the donation amount anyway.”

Annoyed at Isaac’s objection, Baekgyeong demanded:

“Why not?”

“Because state and federal prisons are run entirely on public funds. Meaning, not a penny of donations actually goes to them.”

Isaac opened a bookmarked page and pointed at the word Hopeline on the screen.

“Any donation you make goes to Hopeline. And Hopeline is a nonprofit supposedly for inmates’ families—but as it happens, the foundation’s director is the governor’s mother-in-law. I doubt that money goes only to those families.”

He showed the article on his laptop to Siron and Baekgyeong.

“The original piece was deleted, but apparently they couldn’t scrub everything from Google’s cache.”

Their faces hardened as they read.

It was an exposé on prison corruption linked to the governor. Hazel Brown’s father, Lancaster, had been wealthy for generations. In the early 20th century, they’d made money in real estate; in the mid-century, in nuclear facilities and corporate security contracts.

But their true fortune had multiplied in the 1980s, during Ronald Reagan’s “War on Drugs.” With crackdowns swelling the inmate population, public prisons overflowed. Budget shortfalls and overcrowding pushed the government to hand prison contracts to private companies.

As soon as private correctional facilities were allowed, the Lancaster family, leveraging their security firm’s systems and connections, plunged into prison operations. By 2010, they ran four private prisons across Helso.

“So the father-in-law runs private prisons, the mother-in-law runs the foundation, and the governor holds power. Even the Attorney General and Police Commissioner are appointed by the governor of Helso.”

Siron summarized clearly. Isaac nodded.

“No wonder alpha crime never makes headlines, despite Helso having one of the highest crime rates in the world.”

Hybris already had its grip on police, courts, and the Correctional Bureau that ran the prisons. A perfect trinity for concealing crime. And now, there were no more gangs or mafias to get in their way.

“At this point, it wouldn’t even be strange if the governor himself were Hybris’s head.”

Siron’s voice shrank as he spoke, overwhelmed by the scale of the people they were up against. He had probably become a Hybris target—and now, the governor of Helso, a man with unchecked power, was suddenly his enemy. All he had wanted was to rebuild his career as an actor, scraping by as a diligent deliveryman. Instead, he was being hunted in a world of lunatics and power-hungry predators.

Brooding over his miserable lot, Siron suddenly jerked his head up.

He had survived the worst of online vitriol before. He had clawed back a fragile routine from poverty and shame. He wasn’t going to just sit by and let it be stripped away.

Bring it on, world. I will never break.

A moment ago he’d been slumped, staring gloomily at his knees—now he glared into the air, nostrils flaring.

Baekgyeong watched the whiplash of emotions play across Siron’s face.

That pretty face, and yet he’s got the temper of a mongrel mutt.

Baekgyeong sighed and crossed his arms.

“I’ve been thinking. Maybe we don’t need to bother persuading the Somora warden at all.”

“Why not? What makes you think that?”

Siron’s eyes burned with an overzealous glint. Baekgyeong, a little put off, continued:

“Malcolm Knox is a federal appointee. Even Hybris can’t mess too easily with someone placed by the federal government. So imagine this: Knox takes an interest in one of his inmates—Gezar, or rather, Colby James. Through him, he learns about alphas. He connects the dots with the dark rumors swirling across Helso, realizing the perpetrators are alphas. He reports it up the chain—but the order that comes back is, ‘Keep it quiet.’ Realizing he can’t trust the government either, Knox decides to use the press. He persuades Gezar to write a memoir.”

Listening intently, Siron laced his fingers together like a detective and asked:

“So what you’re saying is, the warden wanted to expose alphas to the world? Then the warden himself would be in danger.”

“Or maybe he’s just testing the waters. Either way, he’s still a federal man.”

Siron, deep in thought, lowered his voice to ask:

“Say the warden did propose going to the press. Would Gezar have agreed to an interview so easily?”

Both he and Baekgyeong turned to Isaac. Until now he had listened silently—but finally, he spoke.

“He would have agreed. Out of a sense of responsibility.”

“Responsibility?” Siron echoed.

Isaac exhaled a quiet sigh and paused, thoughtful, before answering slowly:

“When he became an alpha, he couldn’t have foreseen the world descending into chaos like this.”