Chapter 325

Contrary to his expectation that tracking the mail would be easy, an unidentified individual collected the package, and the laptop’s whereabouts vanished without a trace. In an attempt to recover it as quickly as possible, Sinclair had dispatched all three Executors to New York at once. It was a misstep born of his fixation on Jackson Cliff’s betrayal.

Despite the headache-inducing situation, Sinclair’s mind instead grew calm. The conclusion sharpened with clarity: even by blood, Betas could not be trusted. To them, Hybris was not an object of loyalty, but merely a means to fatten their own pockets.

Sinclair was thirty-three years old this year, and he occasionally suffered minor seizures in which he lost consciousness for several seconds. He had never once thought of fleeing from death, but the swift passage of time felt cruel. Regrettably, a world in which the numbers of Alphas and Omegas reached equilibrium would not come within his generation. Even so, after he was gone, his teachings would cross time and finally come into the light.

Once he accepted the approaching end, thoughts naturally turned to a successor who would lead Hybris after his death. Dylan Brown, with his political foundation and unwavering belief in Alpha superiority, seemed the most stable heir to carry on his ideals. Yet the judgment did not fully satisfy him.

Sinclair considered another possibility. Lewis McCarthy. Of all the trait-bearers Sinclair had ever encountered, Lewis was the most beautiful, physically exceptional, and possessed unmistakably Dominant genes. The thought would not leave him that Lewis might be the one to inherit his ideals in their most perfect form.

Even if completion would not be his to claim, Sinclair’s vision was clear. Hybris’s destination lay in the next generation. One day, a humanity freed from the limits of the flesh—a more evolved mankind—would reign over the world.

At that °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° moment, Sinclair suddenly recalled the face of a man who would leave nothing behind. A terrorist who slaughtered Alphas as close as brothers simply because he had taken in foolish humans. Like Sinclair, the man walked step by step toward death, but his end—with no one at his side—would be endlessly miserable.

As Sinclair imagined that lonely death, the phrase “suicide bombing” abruptly surfaced in his mind. A cold shiver crawled up the back of his neck. The escape route the Hostages had used was connected to the Storm Drain. And that was not the only problem. He could not rule out the possibility that other sections he had failed to identify were also breached into the Storm Drain in the same way.

Sinclair hurriedly checked the weather forecast. Torrential rain was predicted over Baggers City in three hours. It was fortunate. Tight as it was, there was still time to protect the Ark he had painstakingly built.

But as if mocking his thoughts, a change unfolded on the CCTV screen at that very moment. The wall of the Entry Route burst apart as though rupturing, and a massive torrent poured into the passage like a waterfall. The underground tunnel, once an impregnable bunker, was being swallowed in an instant by muddy floodwater.

The flash beam struck the concrete ceiling and reflected back. The light retreated rapidly, vanishing into a deep-sea darkness.

Baekgyeong’s breathing was too close. His rough breaths brushed past Siron’s ear. Each time Baekgyeong’s sweet exhale grazed his face, a restless sensation surged up from beneath Siron’s skin. He could not be fooled by physical impulse like this. This was not the time. Still, if Baekgyeong were to strip off his pants and push inside first, Siron felt he might surrender, clinging to the excuse that Baekgyeong had started it.

“Stop grinding your dick, you crazy bastard. God, I’m losing my mind.”

Baekgyeong snapped a warning at Siron. Jolted back to his senses, Siron bit down hard on his lower lip. As reason barely returned, the reality he had pushed aside came rushing back. No one was chasing after them. Behind the fleeing Baekgyeong and Siron, there was no pursuit at all. As if only the two of them remained in the world, nothing echoed through the narrow, endless tunnel except their breathing and the sound of Baekgyeong’s sprint.

Then it happened. Three gunshots rang out in succession, spaced at even intervals. The back of Siron’s neck prickled, and his heart dropped.

“Shut up! I’m not going back!”

Baekgyeong suddenly shouted in raw irritation. After a brief silence, Siron spoke.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were going to! You were going to say we should go back!”

“Yeah. Let’s go back.”

“Shut up and just hang on!”

As Baekgyeong tried to hitch Siron back up when he slipped, the burst of a machine gun echoed from far away.

Three single shots followed by automatic fire. At the ominous sound, Siron instinctively clutched Baekgyeong’s body tighter.

“What is it? What do you think’s happening?”

Knowing Baekgyeong couldn’t possibly have an answer, Siron asked anyway. Then, suffocated by anxiety, he twisted his head back and stared at the dim, mist-like light fading into darkness. No one followed them. He was afraid that everyone who had endured this disaster together would vanish, leaving only Baekgyeong and Siron alone in the world.

“This won’t work. Put me down.”

“Hah! And what’s your plan?”

“I don’t know! Since when have I ever moved with a plan?”

“Right. No plan, no sense of your own place, just a pretty face—that’s all you ever had.”

“Put me down!”

“Shut up!”

Ignoring Siron’s struggle, Baekgyeong hitched him up once more and ran at full speed. He stubbornly endured Siron’s thrashing until they finally reached the collapsed section of the tunnel. When Siron at last stood on his own feet, he asked in a dazed voice,

“...What is this?”

“Bazelli’s fucking handiwork. He collapsed the tunnel and propped it up temporarily.”

Cursing in a hoarse voice, Baekgyeong pressed down on Siron’s back to make him duck. Startled, Siron lowered himself and looked ahead. A narrow, burrow-like path had been carved deep into the rubble.

“T-that’s scary.”

“You go first. If you dawdle, I’ll seriously shoot you. Losing one foot won’t kill you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Better than drowning.”

Baekgyeong barked and kicked Siron hard in the ass. Stumbling forward, Siron shoved himself into the tunnel, then crawled ahead in miserable compliance to avoid Baekgyeong’s second kick from behind.

Piles of dirt and concrete fragments littered the tunnel. Support beams stood at intervals, but some that should have been upright were bent diagonally. In those sections, the ceiling sagged low, forcing Siron to crawl prone to slip beneath the supports. Amid pain and terror, his mind felt half detached. In his foggy thoughts, a single question surfaced.

Why had Isaac collapsed the tunnel?

From that point on, Isaac’s incomprehensible actions flooded Siron’s mind.

He had destroyed the entry door to the room with the escape route. He had collapsed the tunnel. He had even tried to draw the Nathan River’s water into the underground drainage tunnel. As if he meant to drown everyone. If the timing had been off, Siron himself might have drowned as well.

“Is it blocked up ahead?”

The voice behind him made Siron flinch violently. He had been so absorbed in thoughts of Isaac that he had forgotten the situation around him.

After barely squeezing out of the suffocatingly narrow tunnel, Siron waited quietly for Baekgyeong to follow. Baekgyeong’s sweat-soaked face glowed red. Siron fixed his gaze on empty air, trying not to look at Baekgyeong’s disgracefully erect lower body.

“Why aren’t you moving?”

“Let’s wait here.”

“I’m going insane.”

“If I leave you behind, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“Damn it. Yoon Siron. Siron!”

Unable to hold back, Baekgyeong kicked the wall. The minor impact alone made small stones crumble down behind them with a dry rustle, sending Siron’s heart plunging.

“Please, get a grip! They said everyone came to save you. What’s the point if you die?”

Crouched at the mouth of the reinforced tunnel, Siron did not budge no matter how much Baekgyeong shouted or pulled at him. He only stared into the pitch-black passage beyond.

“I said I’m not going. I’m waiting.”

At Siron’s resistance, Baekgyeong spoke in a voice drained of patience and steeped in menace.

“Bazelli tried to kill you today. Looks like he failed, but one day he will.”

Siron looked up at Baekgyeong with unreadable eyes. It was impossible to tell whether he was frozen in shock, or whether he had already guessed Isaac’s purpose and braced himself for it. Not a single clue showed on his face. He stubbornly kept his gaze on the tunnel and refused to yield.

“Once the current rises, this temporary tunnel will collapse too. And if it collapses, it’ll block the water. ...So I’ll wait until then.”

Faced with Siron’s obstinacy, Baekgyeong finally backed down. Snatching the flashlight from Baekgyeong’s hand, Siron crouched in front of the hole and shone the beam into the tunnel beyond. The light was swallowed by darkness, and within the suffocating silence, the long wait dragged on.