Chapter 1377


    Without offering any exnation or begging for mercy, Peterson simply walked into the middle of the


    study. With his back to Yates, he shrugged off his coat and knelt down with a stoic grace.


    With a whip in hand, Yates rose from the leather couch, his gaze unwavering as heshed out at


    Peterson’s scar-riddled back. Twenty times the whip cracked, each strike splitting skin and drawing


    fresh, crimson blood that spurted out in a grim disy. Through the excruciating pain, Peterson didn’t


    utter a single sound.


    Once done, Yates tossed the whip aside and stared coldly at Peterson.


    “The chip in Bernard’s head, and the injuries he had-I don’t want you mentioning a word to Eleanor.


    Next time, it won’t just be twentyshes.”


    Biting back the pain, Peterson dressed, turned with a pale face, and nodded to Yates.


    “You have my word, I won’t interfere any further.”


    He had already betrayed his grandfather once, he couldn’t bear to do it again. So now, it was up to


    Eleanor to uncover the truth on her own.


    After dealing with Peterson, Yates stood up, “We set out for Area Opaca now. We must return by six in


    the morning. Make the arrangements.”


    “Understood.”


    Peterson, having acknowledged the order, pushed open the door of the study just as Eleanor appeared


    outside, waiting. He quickly wiped the sweat from his brow before she could see.


    The study was soundproof; Eleanor hadn’t heard a thing. And with two bodyguards stationed outside,


    she couldn’t get closer.


    Seeing Peterson emerge, she quickly approached, concerned whether Yates had been harsh with him.


    Peterson, his injuries hidden by the ck suit, smiled reassuringly. “Our grandfather? How could he be


    tough on me? Don’t worry about it.”


    Eleanor had more questions, but Peterson, pressed for time, cut her off. “Dear Eleanor, my mother isn’t


    feeling well. I must hurry home.”


    Seeing the urgency in his demeanor, Eleanor nodded. “Then go, but if Yates gives you trouble, tell me.


    I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay Updated For All Books


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    Peterson couldn’t help but smile at her words. Twentyshes in exchange for his cousin’s trust and


    care was a price he was willing to pay.


    After making the necessary preparations, Peterson and Yates left through the back of the mansion. A


    group of figures in ck, their faces masked, quickly made their way to Area Opaca.


    The Biozone was a chilling sight: rows upon rows of transparent ss chambers, lying on the floor as


    far as the eye could see. From above, one could peer through the ss and see the lifeless bodies


    within.


    These were not just any bodies; they were specimens for biochemical experiments, each marked with


    the letter ‘S’-members of the Siren Organization.


    In one of these chambers, a tall man sat against the floor, one knee raised, his long, elegant hands


    resting on it. Following those well-defined fingers upward, one met a face chiseled and hauntingly


    beautiful, devoid of any discernible emotion.


    His eyes, once as dazzling as the stars, now held nothing but emptiness and uncountable despair-the


    despair of a husband who has lost his wife to the sea, and of a man surrounded by bioengineered


    beings oncerades and friends. Now they were all gone, and he was powerless to do anything but


    watch them sumb to infection and decay into mummies.


    Many times he had wished to join them, but the hatred etched into his bones kept waking him in those


    cold, deste nights, forcing him to survive.


    And survive he did, time and again, through infection and despair….


    Tonight, he would finally face the one he sought vengeance upon.


    A mechanical voice announced the release of security protocols, and the heavy doors to the Biozone


    slid open.


    Bernard, by the dim light, slowly lifted his thickshes, looking past the figures at the doorway to the


    moonlight spilling in from outside. The faint glow wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell him it was night-


    the first he had seen in half a year.


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    “Mr. Laurence,” Yates began, stepping toward him with an entourage of masked men. “Let’s make a


    deal.”


    Yates, his face obscured by a mask and his body by a hazmat suit, looked down upon Bernard with the


    air of a sovereign.


    Bernard propped against the wall, now cleaned and clothed by the medics, met Yates’ gaze with icy,


    lethal eyes.


    He didn’t speak, his silence a testament to his disdain for negotiation. Yates, unperturbed by the pride


    emanating from him, even seemed to appreciate it.


    “I’ll trade you Eleanor’s news for one promise from you. Do we have a deal?”