Chapter 166 Immortality

Chapter 166 Immortality
Amelia POV

"I'm not crying," I said firmly, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand. "It's just sand—dust got in my eyes from the wind."

Jason stepped closer, his expression skeptical but gentle. "Let me see," he said, reaching into his tactical vest and producing a pristine white silk handkerchief.

I stared at the clean fabric in disbelief. "You carry a handkerchief? In the middle of a desert operation?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he carefully dabbed at the corners of my eyes. His touch was impossibly gentle, and I found myself leaning into it despite my better judgment.

"What happened here, Amelia?" he asked softly.

I pulled back slightly, regaining my composure. Maria and I tracked down those coordinates Accountant sent. Turned out to be an ambush—transport plane came out of nowhere, started shooting at us. But the thing was flying all over the place, like someone was fighting for control inside. Eventually crashed right here." I gestured toward the twisted wreckage behind us. "Found it empty, but there were two sets of tracks leading away. Had to be Accountant and Professor. Maria went after them while I... I took a fall during the firefight. Needed a moment to recover before continuing."

Jason's expression told me he wasn't buying the story, but he didn't push. Instead, he moved closer, his voice dropping to that low, comforting tone that always made my defenses waver.

"It's okay," he said. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Here, let me take a look at that ankle."

"It's fine," I said quickly, stepping back. "Jason, did you confirm it? Is the BF incident really connected to Professor?"

His expression grew serious. "Amelia, I think you're misunderstanding my purpose here. From the beginning, my focus hasn't been on the specifics of the experiment itself—it's been on identifying who was truly responsible for the Black Friday incident. Professor overseeing the research is one thing, but Cain caused the accident. He admitted it himself."

The careful distinction in his words should have reassured me, but instead, it made my chest tighten with a different kind of fear.

"Jason, I need to tell you something," I said, my voice smaller than I intended. "I'm scared. Really scared."

His brow furrowed with concern. "Of what?"

"I'm afraid you'll decide that Round Table should be held responsible for all those casualties, and then you'll..." I couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't voice the terror that he'd look at me differently, that whatever this was between us would crumble under the weight of institutional guilt.

Jason moved toward me, his hands coming up to frame my face. "Hey. Look at me." When I met his eyes, his voice was steady and sure. "I know you're scared, and I'm not going to make this harder for you than it already is. If you have something to tell me, just say it. No more spinning yourself up with worst-case scenarios."

I leaned into his touch, hating how much I needed this reassurance. "You need to understand something about me, Jason. I'm not a good person."

"I know exactly who you are."

"Even if Professor was involved in starting the research, I won't betray Round Table. That organization is my life, my family—"

"I understand," he interrupted gently. "And I'm not asking you to choose between your loyalty and the truth. But I want to know why Professor initiated this research in the first place. Don't you?"

Before I could answer, he leaned down and kissed me, soft and slow and full of promise. When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine.

"We'll find him together," he said. "We'll get answers together."

The sound of Maria's voice calling my name broke the moment. We turned to see her approaching from the east, her expression grim.

"Found them," she announced without preamble. "Followed the tracks to what looks like an old chemical processing plant about a mile from here. Half-buried under decades of vegetation, but there's definitely activity inside."

Jason and I exchanged glances before following Maria across the desert landscape. The facility she'd discovered was a sprawling concrete structure, its walls stained with rust and time. Broken windows gaped like dead eyes, and the entire building seemed to sag under its own weight.

"Structure looks unstable," Jason observed. "This place has been abandoned for decades."

I studied the building, noting the fresh signs of recent activity around the entrance.

Stepping forward, I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out, "Accountant! I know you're in there. You wanted to see me? Well, here I am! Are you coming out, or do I need to come in and find you?"

The response came through a crackling PA system somewhere inside the building, the voice distorted but unmistakably female.

"Well, well. The little girl is still breathing." A pause, then a low chuckle. "Come inside, Dancer. Alone. I have some things to tell you that your boyfriend doesn't need to hear."

Jason stepped protectively closer to me. "Absolutely not. We go in together or not at all."

The speaker crackled again. "I'd suggest you let Dancer make her own choices. Professor is up here with me, and I'd hate for him to have an accident because you couldn't follow simple instructions."

I placed a hand on Jason's arm. "I'll be fine. This is what we came for."

"Amelia—"

"I can handle her." I began removing my obvious weapons—the assault rifle, the tactical knife, the sidearm—placing them on the ground between us. "If she wanted me dead, there were easier ways to arrange it."

I raised my hands and walked toward the plant's main entrance. The door hung askew on rusted hinges, and I had to turn sideways to squeeze through the opening.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of decay and old chemicals. Emergency lighting cast sickly yellow shadows across walls lined with corroded pipes and abandoned equipment.

"Keep walking straight," Accountant's voice directed through hidden speakers. "Door at the end of the corridor."

I found myself in what had once been a control room. Banks of dead monitors lined the walls, and a massive console dominated the center of the space. Sitting casually on top of the console was Accountant. My gaze flicked to the hospital bed set up in the corner, where Professor lay unconscious, his breathing steady but labored.

"Is he injured?" I asked.

"Nothing serious. Surviving a plane crash and hiking through the desert at his age—he just needs rest." Accountant's tone was almost conversational. "I originally planned to kill you when you arrived at those coordinates. But our dear Professor here intervened. Said you were his chosen successor, that Round Table needed you alive." She laughed, the sound bitter. "Victor actually handed power over to you, a teenage girl."

I kept my expression neutral. "What did Professor do to you that made you hate him so much?"

"Hate him?" Accountant shook her head slowly. "No, I tried very hard not to hate him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tell me, Dancer—do you think Professor has always been the gentle, scholarly type you know? The kind grandfatherly figure who speaks softly and builds consensus?"

I said nothing, though privately I had to admit that anyone capable of building Round Table into a global organization couldn't possibly be as benign as Professor's public persona suggested.

"I don't care how many people hate him," I said finally. "He's never done anything to hurt me. And whatever your grievances are, this—" I gestured around the abandoned facility "—this is insane behavior. We can discuss whatever issues you have like rational adults."

"Rational?" Accountant's smile turned savage. "You want to know who the real madman is? Professor. Do you have any idea why he really started that research project?"

I remained silent, instinctively loyal to Professor but increasingly uneasy about where this conversation was heading.

"From the moment that experiment began, Professor knew exactly what would happen. How could he not know? Jared had an exceptional IQ. Whatever field he chose to research, he would have made extraordinary contributions. But Professor specifically chose to have him research immortality. That was essentially a death sentence."

"What do you mean?"

"If the Black Friday incident hadn't happened, and that research had gone public, Jared would have become a target for every major power in the world. You know this—he wasn't like us. He had no ability to protect himself. Immortality..." Accountant's voice grew cold. "To many people, Jared would have been like a piece of gold lying on the street. Even with Round Table's protection, we couldn't have been everywhere at once."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "You hate Professor because of Jared?"

"Still don't understand?" Accountant's gaze was sharp, her smile mocking. "All those deaths were because of Professor's personal obsession."

"That's a serious accusation, but it doesn't change my position."

Accountant had clearly expected this response. She laughed coldly. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand. Jared and Shokunin were together. Before Jared left for the Everdark City laboratory, he had already proposed to Shokunin. He told her that when he finished his research and returned, they would have their wedding. Do you understand now?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. Suddenly, Shokunin's intense interest in the Black Friday investigation made terrible sense. Her formal bow, her plea for me to uncover the truth—it wasn't just professional obligation. Her fiancé had died in that incident.

"Professor knew the consequences and still authorized that experiment. He let it happen, then turned around and claimed the accident victims had nothing to do with him. Don't you think that's unconscionable? Don't you think those debts should be repaid?"

"But why did Professor want to conduct this experiment?" I asked quietly.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

I nodded.

"Professor froze his wife—a woman who was dying of natural aging—decades ago. All these years, Round Table's entire existence has been about protecting his research to achieve immortality breakthroughs that would allow that woman to live forever with him."