Chapter 150

Octavia immediately slipped sideways into the ventilation shaft.

The passage was longer than she'd anticipated. After crawling for about eight minutes, she spotted a pried-open fire door at the end.

The lock was broken, fresh scratches marking the metal edges.

She exited the shaft and pushed through the door into what appeared to be an underground storage room.

A toppled plastic chair sat in the corner, half a torn strip of duct tape hanging from its back.

Octavia crouched to examine the tape's edge—it looked cleanly cut, as if sliced with a blade.

She pulled out her flashlight, quickly photographed the scene, then retraced her route back through the vent.

Once in her car, she immediately sent Isabella a message: [Someone's been here.]

Meanwhile, on Isabella's end.

She was just about to check her phone when Oscar urgently spoke up. "Boss, there's activity from Kyle."

"What kind of activity?"

Oscar continued, "I caught an encrypted text he sent at 2:07 a.m. The recipient was a registered terminal inside Daphne's company..."

"Unfortunately, I can't fully restore the message content. I only parsed out a few keywords—'warehouse,' 'missing'..."

Isabella's expression grew thoughtful. "Got it. Keep watching him."

She dialed Daphne's number.

Daphne sounded surprised. "Ms. Fairfax? Calling this late? What's going on?"

"Alexander's gone missing in Savanara. Did you know about this?"

Daphne's tone shifted to confusion. "Missing? What do you mean?"

"He went to investigate a warehouse last night, then vanished."

Daphne fell silent for a moment before asking, "How can you be sure he went missing because of the warehouse?"

"Because you gave him that location. He went to investigate it, and now he's gone." Isabella's voice held no warmth whatsoever.

She was like a volcano on the verge of eruption—one tiny spark away from exploding.

Daphne let out a soft laugh. "Ms. Fairfax, are you blaming me?"

"I'm asking if you know why he's in trouble." Isabella's face remained expressionless, her eyes radiating bone-deep coldness.

"I don't. I wouldn't pull something like this. I want the list, not his life. He's worth more to me alive than dead."

Isabella's reply was clipped. "If you hear anything about him, tell me."

With that, she hung up directly.

She stared at her phone, then dialed Alexander's number again. Still no connection.

Isabella's heart flooded with worry and anxiety for him. She hoped desperately that he was safe...

Alexander was skilled—he should be... fine.

No. He would definitely be safe. Nothing could have happened to him!

Early morning, Octavia returned to the warehouse district.

This time she brought local support staff, entering through the main warehouse door and using professional equipment to scan the wall structures.

In the northeast corner of the warehouse, behind a concrete wall, their instruments detected a cavity approximately three by four meters.

"Move the shelving."

At Octavia's instruction, several people helped shift the racks, revealing a concealed door painted the same color as the wall.

Seeing the hidden door, Octavia's heart skipped. She had a strong hunch.

Alexander might very well be trapped inside.

She tested the door with a push, discovering it was a rotating door with no lock.

When she pushed it open, stairs descended into darkness. At the bottom was an underground space even larger than the warehouse above.

The air conditioning system hummed, cold air streaming steadily from vents. The temperature inside was noticeably lower than outside.

Octavia quickly swept through the underground area. No one was there, but someone had clearly left recently...

Octavia returned to the stairwell entrance and photographed the entire space.

Suddenly, she noticed a folding wheelchair in the corner behind a cabinet, draped with a dark gray jacket.

That jacket—Alexander had been wearing it when he left Imperial City.

Octavia's heart sank. If Isabella saw this, she'd be devastated.

But not knowing anything about Alexander would make her worry even more.

With that thought, Octavia took Alexander's jacket and photographed it before sending the image to Isabella.

At the safe house, Isabella froze when she received the photo.

She stared at the screen without moving, her expression grim.

After about five seconds, she set down the tablet and looked at Oscar beside her. "Pinpoint the exact coordinates of that underground room."

Oscar rattled off a set of latitude and longitude coordinates.

Isabella entered them into a map. The location appeared in the northeast corner of the port warehouse district, less than two hundred meters in a straight line from the ventilation shaft Octavia had found earlier...

After a moment's contemplation, Isabella dialed the encrypted line to Ms. Jackson. "I have a question for you."

Ms. Jackson responded, "Go ahead."

"During Mireille's transfer, did she pass through a warehouse transfer station in Savanara?"

Ms. Jackson fell silent for several seconds. "She went through three transfer stations. One was indeed in Savanara. But I don't know the exact location..."

"Did that transfer station have underground spaces?"

"...Yes." Ms. Jackson cautiously lowered her voice. "How do you know?"

Isabella sent over the photos of the warehouse interior on her tablet. "Because I found it."

Ms. Jackson gasped in alarm. "You went inside?"

"No."

"Don't go in." Ms. Jackson's voice turned grave. "That place isn't a normal laboratory. That location is where they dispose of 'defective samples'..."

Isabella understood immediately.

There was probably toxic gas or worse inside...

She instantly sent Octavia a message: [Get out. Don't go any deeper.]

After sending the message, Isabella pressed her lips into a tight line.

If Alexander had truly been held in that place, this situation was far more complex than a simple "capture."

Isabella spoke aloud. "He's not in the underground room. Those sample containers came from there, but Alexander was taken elsewhere."

Oscar was the first to respond. "How can you be sure?"

"They moved in a hurry."

"Octavia said there's an old roadway outside the warehouse, overgrown with weeds. Fresh tire tracks are visible—the type used by refrigerated transport vehicles."

Oscar immediately pulled up satellite imagery of the port area, inputting the tire width and spacing into the comparison system.

A match appeared on screen.

"There's a ship docked there." Oscar zoomed in on the satellite image. "It's a mid-sized modified cargo vessel..."

Isabella stared at the ship's outline on the screen. "Aurora."

Finnian added, "The Kitayama Biotech Institute's final escape route—a mobile laboratory at sea."

"No wonder no one could find Mireille after three transfers. The place holding her kept moving." Isabella frowned and stood. "I need to go there."

With that, she immediately headed upstairs to pack.

Victoria came to her room and knocked on the door. "I drew a structural diagram of that ship. Want to see it?"

Isabella took the paper. It showed a cross-section of a vessel.

"When I was at Crestview Medical Clinic, I saw a photograph of this exact ship. One of the researchers showed it to me, asking if I'd seen anyone on board..."