Chapter 281

Baekgyeong moved to the living room, set the laptop on the coffee table, and plugged in the USB drive.

A pop-up appeared at once: “Enter FileShield drive password.”

“FileShield? What the hell is that.”

He opened a search window and looked it up.

An online encyclopedia explained in detail: FileShield was an encryption program that protected data using a key.

The password could be cracked by extracting the encryption key from the computer’s memory or exploiting security vulnerabilities in Windows—but only if the key still remained in the memory.

If not, it was impossible.

In short, the drive could only be hacked on the original computer that had been used with it.

And Spencer’s laptop—soaked in seawater and short-circuited when it was plugged in—was long beyond recovery.

“Haah... nothing ever works out, does it.”

Suppressing the urge to smash everything in sight, Baekgyeong forced himself to breathe deeply until the tension receded. Siron had been kidnapped; he couldn’t afford to be picky about who he asked for help.

He called Daniel.

The dial tone had barely rung a few times before a torrent of frantic words burst through the receiver.

— Digi-hyung! You’re alive? Why didn’t you answer? Do you know how worri—

“Can you crack a FileShield-locked USB drive or not?”

— Huh? What— out of nowhere?

“Can you or can’t you?”

There was a pause, then Daniel answered cautiously.

— Depends. If you send me the original PC and the USB together, I can try. Might take time, but I could extract the key.

“I only have the USB.”

— Ah... then no. Not possible. But hyung, what the hell are you and Siron doing? Are you mixed up in something dangerous again? How long are you gonna stay off the grid—

“It’s a long story. Hanging up.”

— Wait, I still need to—!

“If you’ve got something to say, send it by email.”

He cut the call without hesitation, running a rough hand through his hair and exhaling sharply. Daniel called back several times afterward, but Baekgyeong ignored every ring. Now wasn’t the time to indulge the kid’s curiosity.

Cracking the USB’s password seemed hopeless. Time to move on and consider the next option.

It was a crude thought—but as soon as he decided he might have to kidnap the governor, something flashed through his mind like lightning.

“3547.”

He muttered the number under his breath.

The face of Andy LeClair, the schizophrenic patient once kidnapped to the island, rose in his memory.

That man—nothing more than a vagrant at first glance—had actually graduated from Harvard and once worked as a journalist for The New York Times.

But after repeated cycles of addiction and recovery, schizophrenia had taken hold, and he had eventually ended up wandering the streets until Hybris abducted him.

He used to know Spencer, didn’t he...?

Spencer had posted on social media about searching for the missing Andy, and Andy, in turn, had written a memorial post for Spencer after his death.

That connection didn’t guarantee Andy could unlock the encryption, of course. But Baekgyeong couldn’t ignore even the faintest possibility.

He quickly logged into Twibber and searched for Andy LeClair’s account.

With my brother’s help, I’ve returned to New York. Following his advice, I’ll soon be admitted to a psychiatric hospital. This time, I don’t see the hospital as something to fear—but as a place to recover my life. It’s my first time choosing to be admitted voluntarily, and I’m nervous. I probably won’t be able to access Twibber for a while.

There were no updates after that.

By coincidence, Andy had been admitted to Stone Creek Psychiatric Hospital—the same institution where Baekgyeong himself had been confined for three years.

Phones weren’t allowed inside, meaning Andy had no way to access his account. Even if Baekgyeong sent him a message, he’d never read it.

For a long while, Baekgyeong sat thinking, trying to figure out how to reach someone locked inside a psychiatric ward—until, suddenly, it hit him.

“Wait. I own the psychiatric hospital.”

A startled laugh escaped him.

He had inherited his mother’s estate—not only a substantial amount of cash and property, but also legal ownership of the Stone Creek Psychiatric Hospital itself. He had completely forgotten.

He was, technically, the hospital’s executive director.

He had been kidnapped before the inheritance had even been finalized, so he wasn’t sure whether his name had officially been added to the register.

But even so, the hospital director wouldn’t dare dismiss the word of the future—or possibly current—executive director.

Besides, Director Paul Moore was one of the few people who knew how much time Baekgyeong had sacrificed developing the rut suppressant after becoming an alpha.

He likely suspected the true cause behind Baekgyeong’s mother’s mysterious death, yet had kept silent all these years.

A man like that would probably handle Baekgyeong’s request discreetly, without alerting the rest of the family.

Reaching back through half-forgotten memories, Baekgyeong tried a few numbers until one finally connected—to Director Moore’s personal phone.

— Hello?

The unguarded tone made Baekgyeong grin.

“Director, how have you been? This is Executive Director Baekgyeong.”

A long silence followed, then a quiet sigh came through the line.

— Technically, you’re not the executive director yet. The legal transfer hasn’t been processed.

“But once I’m back, there won’t be any opposition, will there? Our hospital doesn’t exactly have a board that votes on things like that.”

Another, longer silence.

Then the director exhaled heavily, his voice rising with exasperation.

— Your disappearance—no, your vanishing—caused chaos, do you know that? If you’re alive, you need to come back immediately and file a survival report!

“‘Executive director,’ huh.” Baekgyeong chuckled softly. The man caught on fast.

“I can’t explain in detail. Let’s just say I’m entangled with some alphas in a very ugly way.”

He paused, then asked,

“You didn’t tell my father or brother anything about alphas or rut suppressants, did you?”

— Of course not!

The director sounded offended.

— The chairman told me not to pry, and frankly I never wanted to. I’m not interested in your family’s... peculiar affairs.

“Right. I figured you’d keep your mouth shut.”

— What’s that supposed to mean?

The director bristled, but Baekgyeong only smiled faintly, admiring once again his mother’s judgment of character.

Paul Moore was a man who neither chased prestige nor clung to petty gain.

He had no curiosity for others’ secrets, content simply to maintain what already existed.

He was the type who prized stability above all.

“I meant you’re a man of discretion. Which is why I’d appreciate it if you kept this call from my family. I need a favor.”

He could hear the tension tighten in the man’s breathing before the reluctant reply came.

— A favor? What kind?

“There’s a patient named Andy LeClair. I need to speak with him.”

— Andy LeClair?

“Yes. White male, looks about thirty. Before the drugs, he worked for The New York Times—”

— Ah, yes. I remember. Diagnosed with schizophrenia featuring delusional disorder. I received a special report on him due to potential media exposure.

Relief seeped into the director’s tone. Whatever he’d been imagining, it clearly wasn’t this. The fact that Baekgyeong only wanted a patient call had eased him.

“Is he lucid enough to hold a conversation?”

Paper rustled as the director flipped through files, followed by a low cough and muttering as he read.

— Communication should be possible. His medication compliance is high; the acute symptoms have subsided. Still, I’d advise avoiding any subjects that might cause stress. ...Though I can’t guarantee it. Call back in thirty minutes. I’ll connect you.

He didn’t even ask why Baekgyeong wanted the call.

Impressed by the man’s sense of timing, Baekgyeong called back exactly thirty minutes later.

— You said... someone’s looking for me?

Baekgyeong blinked. The calm, almost drowsy voice on the line hardly matched the image of 3547—the raving man who had once tried to cave in his skull with a rock.

“You’re the alien’s pathetic collaborator! Hand over the bomb—traitor to humanity!”

He pushed that memory away. Clearing his throat, he forced a tone that passed for gentle.

“Yeah. I’ve been looking for you. You sound better.”

Andy said nothing. The silence stretched long enough for Baekgyeong to realize he hadn’t even introduced himself.

“Not sure if you’d recognize my voice. I was kidnapped to the island too. You almost crushed my head with a rock, remember? Haha.”

— ...I know who you are. After the sea split us apart, I thought you’d died. So you’re alive.

Andy exhaled softly, his voice utterly without mirth.

— I’m sorry... for what happened on the island. I truly believed you were helping them—helping the evil that wanted to erase humanity.

He hesitated, as if forcing out a confession.

— ...To be honest, I still have my doubts.

Baekgyeong wondered, not for the first time, whether any of this conversation would actually help him unlock Spencer’s files.

But if he wanted to save Siron, he had to cling to even the thinnest, most fragile thread.