Chapter 1313


    Ian strode back to the underground fighting pit, his expression unreadable as the dim lights of the


    corridor flickered above him. Nydia waited alone at the entrance, her silhouette a solitary figure against


    the stark shadows of the doorway.


    "Ian," she called out, a smirk ying at the corner of her lips.


    With a nod, Ian signaled her to take care of the unconscious man slung over his shoulder.


    Nydia''s gaze drifted to the man''s face, noting the resemnce to Ian, then promptly waved over two


    burly figures to handle the situation.


    Patric was strung up with iron chains, his feet barely touching the ground, still out cold.


    Thest thing Patric remembered before cking out was Ian''s proposition of a deal. Now here he


    was, a captive audience in the bowels of a fight club.


    "Throw some water on him," Ian instructed indifferently.


    A cup of icy water sshed across Patric''s face, jolting him awake. His eyshes fluttered, and as his


    vision focused on the refined figure seated before him, he raised an eyebrow, his voice smooth as silk.


    "Ian, what''s this all about?"


    This is property ? N?velDrama.Org.


    Ian lounged in a sleek ck chair, exuding authority. His suit, though out of ce in the gritty


    environment of the pit, clung to him perfectly, emphasizing his imposing presence.


    "You''re on the seventh level of the underground fighting pit," Ian said calmly, "in a no man''snd."


    Patric''s eyebrow quirked up again. He had connections in North America; he knew of this fighting pit.


    But he hadn''t expected it to be Ian''s. That was a surprise.


    Trying to reach out mentally, Patric sought Eric. "Your little brother is quite the enigma, isn''t he? Owning


    a piece of the underworld like this fighting pit. I''m keener than ever to kill him. What do you think, Eric?


    Will I get my chance?"


    But there was no reply. Eric had been silent for so long that Patric wondered if his alter ego had


    vanished for good.


    With Eric unreachable, Patric''s attention returned to Ian, but Ian''s next words stopped him cold.


    "The first personality is Eric. What''s the second one called?"


    Ian''s tone was casual, as if multiple personalities were no big deal to him.


    Patric''s expression grew serious. He remembered Ian''s stint hiding in his vi, carrying on a secret


    affair with Maja right under his nose. No doubt, Ian had overheard something about his split personality.


    Deciding toe clean, because ying the gentle Eric was bing nauseating, Patric''s gaze


    hardened.


    Ian, unfazed, flicked his wrist, and the de of his knife came dangerously close to Patric''s throat.


    Unintimidated, Patric simply raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile ying on his lips. "Push a little


    harder, Ian, and your brother really will die. Maja owes him. You owe him. You wouldn''t want to see him


    dead, would you?"


    At that, Ian moved the knife closer, nearly grazing Patric''s cheek this time. Man or woman, everyone


    cherished their face.


    The lightness vanished from Patric''s eyes, reced by a deep, sinking gravity.


    He nced around. This wasn''t Greenfield. There was no Bernard to help him here.


    Bringing him to this ce, Ian must have paid a significant price.


    Patric shrugged. "So, what''s all this about? Why bring me here?"


    "You''ve been to the research facility. I need you to remember everything about it."


    Patricughed, genuinely amused, but stopped abruptly, worried Ian might mar his face.


    "Why would I know anything about the research facility? If I did, why would I stay put in Greenfield and


    not act? Why would I need to rely on those guys to drive Eric out of this body?"


    As he finished, Patric''s eyes scanned the room again. A strange sense of familiarity washed over him.


    Despite his influence in North America, he had never been to this so-called fighting pit.


    This ce was a legal gray area; appearing here in any capacity could raise suspicions from other


    nations.


    "Ian, isn''t there a hidden liquor cab around here? About a hundred meters to your left?"


    Ian frowned. There had been a hidden liquor cab in that exact spot. But that was old news. The pit


    had been renovated since then, and the cab had been moved.


    How could Patric know about it, having never set foot in this ce? And the seventh level was a secret,


    essible only to the management of the fighting pit and not even to Ian''s personal guards.


    How did Patric know about the cab?