Chapter 143

A brief silence fell on the other end of the line.

Victoria listened to Jack's voice—calm to the point of cold—and knew his mind was made up. She let out a soft sigh, her tone shedding some of its usual languid ease and taking on a hint of barely perceptible concern.

"You're always like this. Once you've set your mind on something, you're as stubborn as a mule—no one can pull you back." Her voice was quiet as her fingertips absently traced the rim of her wine glass. "But you need to understand what you're up against now—a deeply entrenched network of interests."

"I know." Jack's voice remained steady. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, the crimson ember flashing briefly in the darkness before vanishing. "That's exactly why I need your help."

"Fidelity Tower Technologies is a breakthrough point. I need more information about it."

Victoria fell silent for a moment, then let out a soft laugh—but this time, the flirtation was gone, replaced by a mix of resignation and indulgence.

"All right, you cold-hearted bastard." Her voice slipped back into that lazy sweetness. "I'll do what I can. I'll dig through the IRS audit system and find you a thread you can bite down on—help you figure out what the hell they're really up to."

"But Jack," she continued, her tone turning serious, "you have to promise me—don't make any moves until you have solid evidence. These people aren't your average thugs. They've got a knife, and it's one they can legally drive straight into your heart."

"I know." Jack nodded.

"Good night, Jack." Victoria's voice softened, carrying a trace of barely perceptible warmth. "Remember—you're not fighting this alone."

"Good night."

The call ended.

The room fell silent once more.

Jack leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. William's face surfaced in his mind—that perpetually kind, honest smile.

"Father," he murmured, his voice low and heavy in the darkness. "Whoever they are, I'll make them pay for what they did to you."

He opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp as a blade.

Outside the window, Imperial City's nightscape remained a dazzling spectacle, neon lights casting hazy halos along the streets.

But in the shadows of this city, a storm was quietly brewing.

And Jack was already standing at its center.

He picked up the lighter from the table. The metal casing flipped between his fingers with crisp 'click' sounds.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Like a countdown.

Like a declaration: this hunt had only just begun.

The next day.

A knock sounded at the door.

Jack opened it to find a graceful woman standing in the hallway—Sherry.

Today she wore a sharp light-green suit, its tailored cut accentuating her elegant curves perfectly. Her long hair was pinned up neatly, giving her an air of decisive, professional competence.

In her hands was a delicate tray holding a steaming cup of milk and some bread.

"Morning."

Sherry looked at Jack, a perfectly calibrated smile curving her lips as she held out the tray.

"Breakfast."

Jack stepped aside to let her in, taking the tray from her. The warm milk gave off a faint sweet fragrance from its paper cup, forming an odd contrast with the cool morning air drifting in from Imperial City outside.

"Thanks," he said quietly, his gaze resting on Sherry.

Sherry walked into the room, gently closing the door behind her before moving to the window and pulling back half the curtain.

Morning light streamed through the glass, casting a soft glow over her professional suit.

"That Steven Thomas you asked me to look into." Sherry turned around, her tone growing serious. "I found him."

Jack set down the tray and walked over to sit at the desk.

"Go ahead."

Sherry pulled a thin file from her briefcase and placed it in front of Jack.

Jack opened it, his eyes quickly scanning the contents.

The photo showed a man with graying hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His features were thin, his lips curved in what seemed like a gentle smile.

If not for the glaring red stamp on the file, he would have looked like a kindly scholar.

But the text beneath was chilling.

"Steven Thomas, a professor of bioengineering at a prestigious university. He led the 'Neural Remodeling' project. Ten years ago, he was expelled by the university for severe violations of academic ethics, then had his license permanently revoked by the Federal Medical Board."

Jack's eyes continued down the page.

"According to internal investigation records, Steven secretly recruited at least twelve patients under the guise of 'treating rare diseases' for unapproved clinical trials. Most of these patients were marginalized—homeless people, undocumented immigrants, gamblers drowning in debt."

"The experiments involved untested neural implants and gene-editing technology. At least four subjects died during the trials, their deaths falsified as 'natural complications.' Of the survivors, two were permanently disabled, three went insane, and the remaining three are missing."

"You're sure it's him?"

"One hundred percent." Sherry nodded, her tone certain. "I cross-checked his fingerprints and iris scans against the sealed confidential file from his old university ten years ago—perfect match. And even though academia expelled him, he's a 'hot commodity' on the underground black market."

She paused, then continued, "I traced Karina's money trail and found that five years ago, they rented an underground warehouse in an abandoned industrial district through a shell company called 'Abyss Bio.' That warehouse's electricity consumption is dozens of times higher than a normal industrial facility, and it's equipped with extremely advanced ventilation and sewage systems."

Jack's gaze lingered on the file for a moment before he looked up at Sherry.

"You think that's his lab?"

"Very likely."

A scientist expelled for experimenting on living humans had become a project engineer for the company.

Jack's instincts told him something was off.

Karina Technologies and this project called 'Rebirth' were hiding something massive.

"Can we get in?" Jack asked Sherry.

"It's private property. Even I don't have the authority to authorize an investigation there." Sherry shook her head.

"But we can approach it from an environmental angle." A sly gleam flashed in Sherry's eyes, a confident curve forming at the corner of her mouth.

"That underground warehouse uses dozens of times more electricity than a normal industrial facility—which means they must have an enormous cooling system and industrial-grade sewage pipes. And in Imperial City, any factory's pollution index and cooling water discharge must pass strict approval from the Environmental Protection Bureau."

She walked to the desk, her slender fingers tapping lightly on the surface twice, her tone assured. "I checked. When 'Abyss Bio' rented that warehouse, they only applied for the lowest-level environmental permit to avoid drawing attention. Given their actual discharge volume now, they're way over the limit."

Jack raised an eyebrow, immediately grasping Sherry's intent.

"You want to use the EPA's authority to force them to open their discharge outlets for a surprise inspection?"

"Exactly." Sherry smiled faintly. "As long as we can get the EPA to issue a surprise inspection order, no matter how powerful their backers are, they won't dare obstruct us in front of body cameras. And once our enforcement officers set foot in that underground warehouse..."

"Whatever secrets they're hiding will be exposed." Jack finished her sentence, a glint of approval in his eyes.