Chapter 1340


    The air was thick with the wail of mourners in the mansion of the wealthy heir, whose charred remains


    had been temporarily stored in the local morgue. The word on the street was clear: the ident was


    due to his drunk driving, and the surveince footage left no room for doubt. He was beyond wasted


    when he crashed, making his end seem more like a self-written tragedy than a foul y.


    Tyler didn''t step inside the grieving house. He lingered just long enough to pick up the pieces he


    needed before he took his leave.


    It was then that his phone buzzed; it was Phelps on the line.


    "Tyler, I got the day off tomorrow. How about grabbing a beer at noon?" Phelps''s voice was casual,


    friendly.


    Since Tyler had removed all suspicions about his old friend, he epted the invitation with ease. He


    even thought about picking up some of those childhood snacks they both used to wolf down and


    bringing them to Tyler.


    Ian woke to the view outside his bedroom window, his mind wandering back to the previous day''s


    conversation with Augus. He dialed the number.


    "Mr. Sanders, have you ever sought out other partners in this search for your family? After all these


    years, there must have been someone before me?"


    "There was Dr. Herrington," Augus''s voice was hoarse, worn out from his recent travels in tracking


    down the BK syndicate.


    "The guy is a legend in medical circles across North America, known among the wealthy n. I had


    him as my personal physician for a while, then asked him to keep his eyes peeled in Greenfield. But so


    far, nada. Whoever''s masterminding this, it’s too powerful, too shadowy."


    Ian tapped his fingers lightly on the windowsill, a long silence stretching out before he ended the call.


    Nydia entered with breakfast, her concern written all over her face. "Ian, you''ve hardly rested these


    past days. You need to take care of yourself first."


    He stood by the window, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Nydia, considering the clout of the Sanders


    family, together with that of the underground fight, and that of the Raymonds and the Haskins, don''t you


    find it odd that we''ve got zilch on the Sanders princess?"


    "It is strange. So, what are you thinking?"


    "There''s a blind spot. Someone''s pulled the wool over my eyes."


    "And your n?"


    "I''m heading back."


    Nydia didn''t argue, just sighed after a long pause. "You''ve got your mind made up. I won''t try to stop


    you."


    Ian methodically finished his breakfast and called Phelps.


    Phelps was waiting for Tyler''s visit when Ian''s call came through, his eyebrows raising slightly at the


    sight of the caller’s ID.


    "Ian."


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    "Phelps."


    Settling into his chair, Ian''s voice was calm. "I''m nning a trip back home in the next couple of days. I


    need your help."


    "What do you need?"


    "Abner''s been smuggling, right? I remember you had dealings with him. The Olsons have a ship that


    can get me from North America straight to the homnd. I want to hitch a ride."


    Phelps pondered for a moment before asking, "Coming back at this critical juncture—got something


    big?"


    "There''s a reason I need toe back. I snagged some of the Olson cargost time, and Abner''s


    probably got a grudge. I need you to smooth things over. He respects you."


    "Alright, I''ll talk to him. But Ian, it''s risky for you toe back now. You''ve taken Eric, and if the higher-


    ups catch wind of your return, you might end up in an interrogation room."


    "I''ve got my reasons."


    Phelps didn''t pry. He wasn''t someone to be persistent in his questions.


    Ending the call, Phelps nced at the two filled beer sses on the table. Ian''s call had interrupted


    what was supposed to be a simple day of old friends catching up. Now, with uncertainty about Ian''s


    sudden return, all he could do was wait and see.


    He made a call to K.


    Since getting back to his vi, K had resumed training Maja, who had regained her sight but was


    pretending otherwise.


    She had learned his routine; the man was a creature of discipline, almost to a ruthless degree.


    By eight, he retired to his room. By ten past, he''d be in the shower, then he''d read a bit before sleep.


    Desperate to escape, Maja looked for her chance. She set her sights on 002, who had been ring at


    her with unspoken malice from a corner.


    Everyone thought Maja was still blind. She got away with her convincing act and fierce resolve. It was


    as if something primal had awakened in her during the short time of training here.


    She had never felt so alert.


    After another grueling day, she staged a sickness by dousing herself with cold water, feigning a fever


    by morning.


    K came to wake her and found her all flushed and weak. As she pretended to fumble out of bed, her


    fingers brushed his hand. She recoiled, trying to stand up, but stumbled, her upper body brushing


    against him.


    Her gaze was fixed on his hair, on everything she could see. And there, by his earlobe, she spotted a


    tiny red mole.