The last trace of light in the room went out.
The three of them sat silently in the darkness, none of them reaching for the light switch.
Shen Wu folded the two handwritten lists and tucked them back into his inner pocket.
Should they report these top-secret lists to the command center—or to the Federation?
The thought only flashed through Jiang Nuan’s mind for half a second before she crushed it completely.
Report them to whom?
The “Ouroboros” project, with its absurd pursuit of immortality, was backed by the highest-ranking figures in the Federation. If they rashly followed the proper reporting procedures with what they had in hand, they wouldn’t be exposing the Bai family.
They would be screaming at those people: We know too much.
Blind idealism had never been justice. It was a death warrant.
In the end, the three of them reached an unspoken agreement: the information would remain sealed within the team for now. Apart from the seven members of Zero Squad, not a single word would be revealed to anyone else.
Perhaps it could be used as leverage in the future.
This chilling deduction, pieced together from multiple clues, did not keep them waiting long.
That very night, it was confirmed in the most horrific way imaginable.
“Beep—”
The communicators on their wrists suddenly vibrated, flashing red.
All three tapped the answer button at the same time.
“Your leave is over.”
Lu Shiyan’s voice struck heavily through the communicators, instantly sucking the last trace of ease from the room.
Jiang Nuan’s nerves tightened at once.
“Half an hour ago, a high-risk restricted zone erupted in Sector E of Whale Harbor City. Its initial rating was A. Within ten minutes, it broke through to S-class, and it’s still expanding at an alarming rate.”
Lu Shiyan spoke quickly, each word crisp and clear. “The zone’s core is located at the docks in Sector E. All the Bai family and the Li family’s key members within the Foundation who had just finished handling supplies from the White Whale have been swallowed up. Their status is unknown.”
He paused.
“The three investigation teams sent in by the command center have all lost contact after entering the zone. The High Command has now ordered Zero Squad to take over the area immediately.”
The communication ended.
The room fell so quiet that they could hear one another breathing.
Jiang Nuan sat on the edge of the bed, a chill creeping up her back.
This was the trap Bai Siyuan had set. He had calculated everything down to the smallest detail.
She suspected that the Li family members from the Foundation whom Lu Shiyan had mentioned were also part of Bai Siyuan’s calculations.
And it wasn’t only the Bai family who would be sacrificed. To completely reshuffle the balance of power, he was willing to drag countless innocent people in Sector E down with him.
A madman. A complete and utter madman.
“Pack up. We leave in ten minutes.” Ye Que’s voice was low and steady, suppressing the cold that had gathered in Jiang Nuan’s heart.
“Looks like the Bai family’s head is eager to close the net,” Shen Wu said, his voice carrying a chill.
Shen Wu had already destroyed the important documents, keeping only the crucial evidence on his person. The three of them moved swiftly. In less than five minutes, they had finished packing and were ready to leave.
The night wind was cool.
The three of them hurried through the Bai family’s luxurious yet deserted corridors.
But just as they were about to step out through the main entrance of the Bai family residence, the wind swept fallen leaves across the courtyard.
A figure stood quietly in the shadow of the gate.
Bai Siyuan.
He wore a thin white shirt, his tousled hair dampened by the night mist. He stood there as though he had been waiting for a long time.
At the sound of their footsteps, he slowly turned around.
The face that was usually gentle and composed was now marked by deep exhaustion and grief.
His eyes were even slightly reddened, his shoulders tense as though he were struggling to suppress overwhelming sorrow.
“A Nuan,” he said, his voice hoarse.
Jiang Nuan stopped walking. Ye Que moved half a step forward, quietly placing himself between her and Bai Siyuan.
“I just received the news too.” Bai Siyuan’s gaze passed over Ye Que’s shoulder and fell on Jiang Nuan. “Something happened in Sector E. Father, our uncles… they’re all there.”
He drew a slow breath, his fingers clenching before relaxing again.
“A Nuan, Zero Squad has been ordered to carry out the mission. I can’t stop them.”
“But you’re different.”
His voice dropped.
“You have to stay.”
“I may already have lost those family members.”
He paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing with difficulty.
“I can’t lose my only sister too.”
Jiang Nuan’s fingers curled slightly at her side.
She looked at Bai Siyuan as he stood before her—suffering, restrained, and fragile. For a moment, he overlapped with the boy in her memories, the one who had shielded her from the wind and rain in the refugee district.
If she hadn’t known about those things.
If she hadn’t seen that notebook, hadn’t seen the nautical chart, hadn’t deduced that cold and vicious chain of killings.
Then she probably would have softened. She might even have looked for a way to stay behind and keep him company.
But she knew the truth.
So when she looked into Bai Siyuan’s reddened eyes, all she felt was a deep chill.
He was acting.
Since he wanted to put on a performance, then they could all give it their best.
Jiang Nuan forcefully suppressed the cold inside her, then stepped forward, tilting her head up with an expression as sincere as she could make it.
“Brother.”
The moment she spoke the word, her voice came with a tremor.
“Your family is my family too.”
She grabbed Bai Siyuan’s sleeve and forcibly squeezed out a few tears.
“I have to go. I’m going to help you bring them back.”
Shen Wu’s voice rang out through the mental link, unmistakably gleeful:
[Tsk.]
The corner of Jiang Nuan’s eye twitched.
[Maybe cry a little louder. Better yet, squeeze out a couple of drops of snot. With acting like that, you could win Best Actress at a Federation gala.]
Jiang Nuan kept her expression unchanged. In the mental link, she ground out through clenched teeth, [Shut up.]
[No, seriously, listen to that line you just delivered: “Your family is my family too.”]
Shen Wu sounded like he was barely holding back his laughter.
[Isn’t that a classic line from those melodramatic family dramas from before the apocalypse? Didn’t you feel embarrassed saying it?]
Ye Que said coldly, [If it works, that’s all that matters.]
Shen Wu gave a derisive snort. [Your rose-colored glasses are prescription-strength. There’s no saving you.]
Bai Siyuan seemed to freeze as he looked at Jiang Nuan, who stood before him with righteous determination.
He stared at her for a full half minute.
During that long half minute, the perfect mask of grief, anxiety, and vulnerability in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a calmness that sent chills down the spine.
Then he suddenly smiled.
It was an extraordinarily gentle smile, even carrying a hint of indulgence.
“All right,” he said softly.
He made no further attempt to stop her. Instead, he slowly walked over to Jiang Nuan.
Her entire body tensed. Beside her, Ye Que’s eyes sharpened, and his hand quietly settled over the weapon at the small of his back.
But Bai Siyuan seemed oblivious to everything around him.
He leaned forward slightly and raised a hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Jiang Nuan’s ear.
His fingers were cold. They brushed faintly over her earlobe, sending a slight shiver through her.
His gaze swept over the silver earring in her ear, and his smile deepened.
“Since A Nuan wants to go, then go,” he said in a voice as gentle as though he were coaxing a petulant child. “Remember, come home early.”
He stepped back, clearing the way through the gate.
He was even considerate enough to escort them all the way outside the Bai family’s main gate, to the armored off-road vehicle waiting there.
Everything went so smoothly that it sent a chill through them.
Only after Ye Que had taken the driver’s seat and started the engine did Jiang Nuan finally let out a long sigh of relief.
Just as Ye Que was about to press the accelerator, a sudden, urgent pounding came from outside the car window.
“Bang, bang, bang!”
