Chapter 312

The mail that arrived at the post office box went through a double-layer security procedure: it was forwarded to Angela by mail through another of Jackson’s helpers in Manhattan. Using a post office box was the bare-minimum safeguard Jackson had devised to avoid any possible tracking. And yet Sinclair had learned it existed.

To test whether Sinclair knew the helper in Manhattan—and ultimately whether he knew about Angela and Jackson’s son Joshua—Jackson asked as if it were nothing.

“Simple enough. Just retrieve the laptop from the post office box.”

“Haha. Absurd.”

A gentle arc hung on Sinclair’s lips, but his eyes stayed coldly fixed on Jackson as if testing him.

“Unfortunately, we couldn’t retrieve it. Your helper in Manhattan took it first.”

Jackson tensed and waited for what Sinclair would say next. But no matter how long he waited, nothing followed. In that long silence, Jackson understood. Sinclair still didn’t know who Jackson’s helper in Manhattan was.

The Manhattan helper was an older employee who handled cleaning at the post office box service. For a little under-the-table cash, she would take Jackson’s mail from a tucked-away box outside the range of the CCTV, load it onto her cleaning cart, steal it out, and send it to Angela.

Because so many people came and went through the post office box service, Jackson could buy at least a day—maybe several days—before Sinclair learned the helper’s identity. In the meantime, Hannah Knox might be able to run to a safe place with her daughter and Joshua. Jackson prayed Hannah was the kind of woman with the nerve to do that.

And there was another post office box there. Box number 21830. A box shared with no one—known only to Jackson. Inside it were things with explosive power to change the entire board, to the point that theft of cryptocurrency would seem like a trivial commotion.

Lost deep in thought, Jackson didn’t notice Sinclair’s expression darkening by the second right in front of him.

“Why did you betray me?”

At Sinclair’s question, Jackson closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. He decided excuses and varnish were unnecessary.

“Because you’re going to die soon.”

He spoke as if reading out a conclusion he had prepared long ago.

“Your life—at best, one year? Two, if you’re lucky? When you die, this organization will fall apart. Other than you, no one can control these lunatics. Anyone would have made the same choice I did. I just escaped a sinking ship.”

Sinclair listened silently all the way through. With his head slightly bowed, he stayed quiet as if chewing on Jackson’s words. Then, suddenly, he answered as if he understood everything.

“I don’t know. I think you’ll die before I do.”

Sinclair watched without missing a beat as Jackson’s face stiffened, then burst into laughter that left an unpleasant aftertaste. Moist shine gathered at the corners of his eyes, and Jackson couldn’t gauge how deep his son’s emotions ran.

Only after a long time did Sinclair steady his breathing and stop laughing. A strangely refreshed look had risen to his face. Then, as if none of it mattered, he slowly shook his head from side to side.

He lowered the window and ordered Dylan, who was standing outside.

“Take him.”

Immediately, the car door on Jackson’s side flew wide, and hands reached into the car to drag him out by force. Jackson batted them away and bared his teeth as he spoke.

“Don’t touch me. I’ll go on my own.”

As he climbed out, Jackson found himself looking up at the sky without realizing it. Under a sky full of scattered sheep clouds, a crescent moon tipping toward the west smiled slyly and laid a curse on what awaited him.

In Jackson’s mind, the premonition shot up like a blade: that sky holding that eerie moon might be the last sky he would ever see in his life.

Isaac settled into an empty office in a building one block away from the Psychological Health Center and calmly scanned the area around the Center through binoculars. The perimeter security was tight. Men in black tactical uniforms patrolled the outer grounds at regular intervals. In silence, Isaac analyzed the scene with steady focus.

In front of the lobby, a black sedan and a black van were parked nose-to-tail. Twenty minutes had already passed since Jackson Cliff stepped down from the van and got into the sedan. Heavily armed men surrounded the vehicles as if something important was being discussed inside. The sedan’s tint was so dark there was no way to confirm who was inside besides Jackson, but it had to be someone connected to Hybris.

Time passed, and Jackson got out of the sedan and switched back into the van. The van carrying him circled the perimeter and headed toward the underground parking garage.

Even though a car was parked in front of the lobby, Jackson didn’t walk into the lobby. He went to the underground parking garage instead. The unusual behavior felt subtly unnatural. Unless the underground garage was the destination, was there any reason to take the trouble of circling the building with the lobby right there?

Isaac fell into thought, recalling the site history of the land the Center stood on. Originally, the plot had been planned for a subway station. During underground excavation, structural risks were raised and the construction was halted. The abandoned site was then given a new purpose, and the current Psychological Health Center was built.

But the subway-station project might have been only a façade; in reality, there was a strong chance they had secretly been doing preliminary work to connect to the underground Deep Drainage Tunnel. As confirmed in the as-built plan of the drainage tunnel Anna had brought, the Psychological Health Center building was the main entry route into the Deep Drainage Tunnel.

And considering Jackson Cliff’s movement pattern, there was a strong chance that somewhere in the underground parking garage there was a concealed entry route leading into the Deep Drainage Tunnel.

Isaac pictured the security detail patrolling the grounds and the Alphas who would be guarding the tunnel entrance. In a confined space, he would have to punch through the enemy’s center while outnumbered. Tactically, it was a disadvantaged situation.

And the Alphas here were different from the ragtag lot on the island. By Isaac’s standards they weren’t the absolute top elite with formal military training, but they were still organized into a capable fighting force.

Isaac agonized. If a frontal breakthrough was difficult, then he had no choice but to enter from the rear. And besides the Designer, there was someone he needed to deal with as a priority.

With a hardened expression, Isaac lowered the binoculars. Outside the window, the navy-blue sky was covered with scattered sheep clouds. It was the kind of phenomenon that appeared when a rainy-season front was approaching. Unavoidable rain was rolling in again.

Fortunately, most of what Isaac had stolen could be obtained again with money. But time was something that couldn’t be recovered at any price. By the time they finished preparing everything needed to enter the Deep Drainage Tunnel—firearms and live ammunition, body armor, and a thermal imaging camera—thick darkness had already fallen.

After hastily finishing their last meal with packaged fast food, Baekgyeong and Anna parked their car in the Summers Park parking lot south of the Nathan River. In the park, set in the middle of Riverland—one of the worst slums even within Baggers City—junkies wandered around like zombies.

The two of them moved quickly through the crowd toward their destination. Following the riverbank down from the edge of Summers Park, the water level monitoring station came into view. According to the as-built plan drawn up in 2012, there was a ventilation passage here connected to the Deep Drainage Tunnel.

Though it was late at night, the inside of the building was bright. The water level monitoring station had a plain exterior reminiscent of a small logistics warehouse, and a low observation tower like a stubby lighthouse was attached to the top of the building. Bright light poured out through a full-height window facing the river, pushing back the dark. From a distance, the observation tower looked like a small light fixed at the water’s edge.

Anna pulled out a gun from inside her jacket and attached a suppressor as she spoke.

“What do we do? Looks like someone’s watching outside.”

Baekgyeong snorted as he looked at the window that gave a clear view straight inside.

“Are your eyes just for decoration? We approach from the blind spot.”

Because the observation tower was a disguised facility for monitoring the river level, there was a blind spot on the side opposite the river. Offended that she had overlooked something so basic, Anna twisted her expression. After scanning the area, Baekgyeong lowered his posture and approached the station, silencing his footsteps as if melting into the dark.

Pressing his ear to the first-floor outer wall and focusing, he heard a low, monotonous noise. It was wind laced with metallic sound, as if it had started from very far away. It sounded like a giant fan circulating air. Masked by the noise, there was no sign of people.

Beside him, Anna was concentrating on the sound as well. She met Baekgyeong’s eyes and nodded. Exchanging hand signals—one, two—they kicked the sturdy steel door with all their strength at the same time. But ridiculously, the door opened easily enough to make the attempt feel pointless. Expecting recoil, they lost their balance, staggered, and stumbled inside as if falling through.

An unexpected, horrific scene was waiting for them.

“Fuck—what, ...what is this!”

Under the fluorescent lights, two corpses were sprawled on the floor. One was half-slumped against a chair wearing only underwear, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. The other lay facedown in a spreading pool of blood.

Anna grabbed Baekgyeong by the hair and hauled him upright just in time when he nearly toppled into the blood. Normally Baekgyeong would have flown into a rage, but in front of the bodies, every such emotion felt trivial.

“Disgusting. I can’t look at this.”

Baekgyeong turned his head, feeling like he might vomit.

“They’re both huge. ...Alphas?”

Anna spoke with a pinched expression, studying the corpses closely.

“Only that man was killed brutally.”

Anna pointed to the man lying facedown in the blood pool. His arms were wrenched behind his back, his thumbs and wrists bound with multiple metal cable ties. It was a familiar method.

Even while clamping a hand over her nose against the vicious stench rising from the dark red blood soaking the floor, Anna quickly examined both bodies.

“The guy in underwear was taken out in one go. The one facedown—looks like he was tortured to death.”

Baekgyeong glanced in the direction Anna indicated, pressed his palm to his forehead, and sighed.

“It’s Isaac. I recognize the way he binds arms with metal cable ties. ...He did that to your brother, too.”