Tyson tried calling the system once more, but there was still no response, none of the usual presence at the edge of his thoughts. No active indicator. No pending warnings. Nothing at all.As if the system was truly… offline. Or deliberately choosing not to answer.Tyson stared blankly for a few seconds, then drew in a deep breath. Whatever was happening inside his head wasn’t something he could resolve right now. And for the first time, he had to accept something he disliked, putting it off.After cleaning himself up and feeling a bit more alive, he picked up his phone.A message from Anna had come in some time ago.Anna:When are you coming back to Valenbourg?Tyson stared at the screen longer than necessary. Anna rarely asked that question so directly. Usually, she simply waited.The clock on the hotel wall ticked softly.Finally, Tyson replied.Tyson:Probably about a week from now. If there’s no major problem.Less than a minute later, another message arrived.Anna:Are you okay?

Tyson ignored the woman and turned his gaze forward again.“Drive,” he said curtly to the driver, his voice cold and firm, as if Anni’s presence outside the window were nothing more than a minor inconvenience not worth acknowledging.The driver hesitated for a moment, then slowly pressed the accelerator.“Tyson—!”Anni hurried forward. Without caring about the guards watching, she reached out and grabbed the taxi door. Her body was pushed slightly by the car as it began to move, forcing the driver to brake reflexively.“I’m sorry, sir—” the driver panicked.Tyson let out a quiet breath, clearly losing patience. He turned to Anni, his gaze sharp, devoid of warmth.“What else do you want?” he asked coldly. “I already told you. Leave.”Anni tightened her grip on the edge of the door, her fingers turning white. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, not fear, but the knowledge that this might be her last chance.“I can’t let you leave like this. I… I just need a few minutes. There’s somethi

Anna finished her work toward late afternoon, making sure there were no important files left behind and no decisions left unsigned. She was not the kind of person who could be irresponsible about her duties.After that, she stood up, straightened the light coat on her shoulders, and stepped out toward Gavin’s office.Gavin was bent over his desk when Anna knocked lightly. He looked up and was slightly surprised to see her standing at the doorway with a serious yet composed expression.“Gavin,” Anna said without preamble, “I’m going to Pueblo.”Gavin’s eyebrows lifted, clearly not expecting that.“Pueblo? To follow Mr. Tyson? Is something serious going on?”“Yes. And there are also some personal matters,” Anna replied briefly. Her tone was controlled, leaving no room for further questions.Gavin knew that Anna and Tyson were both from Pueblo, so he didn’t ask more after hearing it was a personal issue. He was not someone who failed to distinguish between work and private matters.“Whil

Tyson did not immediately act on the thought forming in his mind. The name that had briefly surfaced was far too dangerous to conclude without evidence. There were too many possibilities, too many overlapping interests.So he chose to remain silent and wait.Before them, he appeared resigned, his head slightly bowed, his breathing steady despite the obvious pain his body was enduring. Not because he had given up, but because he wanted to see how far this game would be revealed. He wanted to know who was bold enough, reckless enough, to abduct him and keep him alive.The man standing in front of him clearly did not possess such patience.“Silent?” he snarled. His emotions spilled over, his words growing increasingly disordered.“Do you know what I’ve had to go through because of you? I lost my position. I lost territory. Every plan fell apart!”He paced back and forth, then kicked one of the wooden chairs hard enough to send it toppling over.“Ten years I spent building everything. Th

Tyson slowly sat down on the sofa. His movements were stiff and restrained, not out of hesitation, but because the pain was still embedded in his hands and feet. Every change in position demanded extra effort, as if his body had not fully returned to being his own.He reached for the glass of water with a slightly trembling hand. The tips of his fingers touched the cold surface of the glass, and instinctively, his mind opened, trying to read the memory stored within the object.A faint stream of information surfaced: a short route from the kitchen, passing through the dining room, and ending in this room. Nothing more.Tyson’s expression remained flat. His face was calm, his demeanor ordinary, as if he saw nothing but the water ready to be drunk. He lifted the glass and drank slowly, restraining himself so as not to appear too thirsty, too ravenous. Every movement was measured.He knew there were surveillance cameras in this room.After that, he did the same with his plate of food. Hi