Chapter 329

“How is it. You think that bastard’s going to live?”

Baekgyeong’s unpleasant pheromones spread thickly through the communal shower room. Isaac clenched his jaw and threw the window wide open before answering.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Considering he’s an Alpha, it wasn’t a fatal wound. It wasn’t to the extent that he should have lost consciousness.”

“So you’re saying you only hit him where it wouldn’t kill him?”

“If I’d intended to kill him, I would’ve attacked Anna McCarthy as well.”

Baekgyeong mulled over Isaac’s words slowly, then understood them a beat late. If Anna McCarthy had been fatally wounded and the siblings had been left behind in the drainage tunnel, they would have been trapped there, never able to reach the surface. Every witness who could expose the truth would have drowned, leaving no chance for it ever to come out.

The fact that Isaac had escaped the tunnel carrying a half-paralyzed Lewis on his back was only possible because Isaac had shown them mercy.

The son of a bitch is still a son of a bitch—but not quite as much of one as he should be.

Reluctantly conceding the point, Baekgyeong changed the subject.

“Is Lewis being unconscious because of that Type-X Syndrome or whatever?”

Isaac didn’t answer. It was a hypothesis he couldn’t fully confirm himself. Baekgyeong looked down at Lewis’s face, which showed an uncharacteristic pink flush for someone who should have been a patient, and asked,

“If we drive from here to New York, how long will it take?”

“Even without stopping, about thirty-five hours.”

From Helso State to New York State meant crossing at least five states. Even if they passed through all of them without stopping once, it would take two days. Airports and train stations would be crawling with Hybris forces searching for them and the Hostages, so planes and trains were out of the question. Time was tight, and there was no guarantee Lewis’s condition wouldn’t worsen before they reached New York safely.

After sharing life and death together in the drainage tunnel, Baekgyeong had grown attached despite himself. Thinking about Anna McCarthy potentially losing her only remaining family, he asked Isaac,

“What about dropping Lewis off in front of some halfway decent hospital along the way?”

“No. Gunshot wounds are mandatory reports. If the police get involved, that’s a problem.”

While tidying up around the makeshift operating table, Isaac laid out the plan with cold clarity. The destination was New York—but once there, they would split up.

Isaac, Baekgyeong, and Siron would go to Manhattan to find Jackson’s criminal records. The McCarthy siblings, Rachel, and the Hostages would head for Stonecreek Psychiatric Hospital, where Baekgyeong was the CEO, to evade Hybris’s pursuit. To prepare for contingencies, they would take different routes.

“If memory cards containing Hybris’s crimes really exist, we have to secure them. That’s how we’ll find out who was involved and what kind of protection allowed Hybris to grow this big.”

Wiping sweat from his brow as heat suddenly surged through his body, Baekgyeong replied,

“That’s too broad. We can’t tear through every post office box in Manhattan.”

“We’ll have to use a hacking exchange.”

“A hacking exchange?”

“Hacking the postal system. Mail headed into Manhattan gets stuck at least once during intermediate sorting. If we identify mail that repeatedly flows into Manhattan post office boxes, we can narrow down which districts they’re going to.”

“So that means dealing in cryptocurrency?”

“Yes. But it’s an unreliable exchange, so there’s no guarantee of results.”

As he listened, irritation boiled higher and higher inside Baekgyeong. If they’d interrogated Jackson from the start and gotten the post office box address, they wouldn’t have to grope around Manhattan with no leads like idiots. But Isaac had locked Jackson in a Cell and walked away, knowing he’d drown. He’d kicked away the opportunity right in front of him, as if whatever information Jackson had was worthless.

Restlessness drove Baekgyeong to squat down, then immediately stand back up. Rubbing his face roughly with his palms, he demanded,

“That’s everything Jackson Cliff said?”

Isaac’s eyes sharpened.

“What are you getting at?”

“Let’s say Jackson willingly confessed to you that the memory cards were in Manhattan post office boxes. You heard that and still locked him up. Knowing he’d drown.”

“Yes. Because saving Siron came first.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you psychopathic bastard!”

Isaac’s gaze turned vicious at the flood of filthy curses spilling from Baekgyeong’s mouth, but Baekgyeong didn’t care and kept shouting.

“Did you forget you sealed off every escape route? You were trying to kill yourself. If we hadn’t broken through the passage, you and Yoon Siron would’ve been trapped and died.”

A single flicker of hesitation crossing Isaac’s face turned Baekgyeong’s suspicion into certainty. He really had intended to meet his end in the drainage tunnel. That only deepened the contradiction. When they’d reunited, Isaac had been desperately escaping with Siron—like someone who’d reversed his own resolve.

Isaac didn’t avoid Baekgyeong’s stare as he admitted it calmly.

“I was. But I changed my mind. I realized it wasn’t time to die yet.”

Baekgyeong shook with rage.

“Not yet? You planning to die later when the time comes? You’re a walking disaster. If you’re going to die, do it alone.”

Isaac looked at Baekgyeong in silence. As if the words had struck something inside him, he mulled them over for a while without speaking. Then he turned away, stuffing discarded waste into a bag as he spoke indifferently.

“I told you—I changed my mind. If death is coming anyway, there’s no need to rush it.”

It sounded like he no longer intended to kill himself—and like he wanted to live with Siron. Baekgyeong was thrown into confusion. The desert-dry wasteland of Isaac’s heart had been turned into a damp, yielding swamp by Yoon Siron. Isaac had been helplessly pulled in by Siron’s bizarre allure.

Baekgyeong had wished that Siron’s charm would affect only himself—but that had been impossible from the start. Siron was the kind of man who drew interest just by eating alone, washing his face, or putting on skin lotion. Baekgyeong wanted to monopolize that loud, irresistible magnetism all to himself—but he couldn’t lock Siron away.

A sharp, unwanted jealousy pierced him. It felt like an ice pick driven into his heart. Rubbing his solar plexus as his eyes grew wet, Baekgyeong glared at Isaac’s profile.

Yoon Siron belonged to him. His alone—his refuge, his reason to live.

“I’m warning you. Yoon Siron is mine. Don’t even think about him. Don’t try to wedge him into your life.”

He snarled the words at Isaac, didn’t wait for a response, and headed for the shower room door. At that moment, it flew open and Anna—rushing in—collided with him, stumbling off balance. Muttering a curse, Baekgyeong grabbed her arm roughly and hauled her upright.

“Watch it.”

Despite the words, there wasn’t a shred of consideration in the savage look he gave her before storming out.

“Unbelievable assholes.”

Anna glared after his retreating back, then shook her head and went inside.

“I’ll warn you too. That fucking Yoon Siron belongs to Lewis. Don’t you—or Baekgyeong—get any ideas.”

Isaac didn’t react as if he’d heard her at all. Anna shot him a look, then deliberately lightened her tone.

“So. Did the surgery go well?”

“It finished safely. With Lewis McCarthy’s recovery rate, he should be able to walk within three days.”

“Your skills are lacking. You should’ve had him flying around in two.”

She spoke with sarcasm, but relief was already softening her face. In a better mood, she stepped closer to the operating table to check on Lewis. At that moment, something dropped beside her with a dull thud—a crumpled black T-shirt. As soon as it touched the wet floor, dried stains bled vivid red, spreading across the blue tiles. She reflexively stepped back as combat pants and underwear fell after it.

Startled, Anna looked up.

“W-What the hell!”

Isaac, walking toward the shower booth, turned his head. With the shameless glance of a wild beast, he looked her over once, then stepped into the booth divided by a single curtain and turned on the faucet.

“Wait there.”

“What? A-Are you insane?”

Flustered, Anna raised her voice, but the truth was she’d been momentarily overwhelmed by his naked body. It was violent and domineering, like an ancient warrior born from the union of angel and human—a Nephilim. Every taut muscle stood out sharply, his physique covered in scars. And centered on his shoulders, half his upper body was caked in dried blood.

“You were shot too?”

“Yes. Which means I need your help.”

After washing away the grime, blood, and dirt with cold water, he returned to the operating table area, water dripping from his body. Anna had nowhere to look, her gaze skittering awkwardly as she asked,

“What do you want me to help with?”

Isaac pulled on old but clean pants over his still-damp body and stood in front of her.

“Sew.”

“M-Me?”

“I can’t leave it to that guy.”

He jerked his chin toward the unconscious Lewis with a sneer. Still unable to forgive what Isaac had done to Lewis, Anna glared at him—then broke into a crooked smile. It was a chance to vent some of the malice she’d built up toward him.

“I’m warning you now. I’m terrible at stitching.”