?Chapter 1508:
This time, after a brief tone, the call connected. A polite voice answered, exining that their staff were already waiting at the industrial park and were prepared to wee their new boss at any moment.
Atst, Kolton’s lingering doubts dissolved. The call had gone through. People were waiting. They must simply have taken a wrong turn earlier.
Kolton followed the herdsmen’s vehicle deeper into the area. Dust billowed into the air as they drove, the silence among the herdsmen heavy and unsettling. Before long, a fenced industrialpound appeared ahead, ringed with barbed wire and filled with machinery and factory buildings. It looked legitimate — solid, established.
But the moment Kolton and Jimmie’s car passed through the gates, something felt wrong.
With a metallic shriek, the gates mmed shut behind them. Armed men wearing masks poured out from the surrounding buildings, AK-47s raised, ck barrels snapping into position and locking onto their car.
Kolton was still trying to process what was happening when he saw the herdsmen break into wide grins, yellowed teeth shing. One of the gunmen handed them a thick stack of cash. They didn’t even bother counting it before climbing back into their vehicle and driving off without a backward nce.
“What… what’s happening?”
Kolton stared in horror as the situation spiraled out of control. A raw, unfamiliar fear crawled up his spine, freezing his limbs. He snapped his head toward Jimmie, whose face had gone deathly pale. “Trante — now! Ask them what they want!”
Jimmie stumbled out of the vehicle, his entire body shaking. After only a few exchanges, his courage copsedpletely. His knees hit the ground. He pressed his forehead to the dirt, sobbing uncontrobly as he begged the armed men for mercy.
Kolton’s heart lurched. “Jimmie!” he shouted furiously. “Get up! What are you doing?”
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Jimmie slowly turned back, tears streaking his face, despair written into every line. “Kolton… we were tricked. Those guides weren’t local herdsmen — they sold us.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “These people say we’re merchandise. Either for dissection… or experiments.”
“What?” Kolton’s vision narrowed.
The term struck a nerve, its familiarity sending a shiver of pure terror through him. For a fleeting second, he convinced himself this had to be a misunderstanding — a nightmare, some borate ruse. Then reality struck.
Rough hands hauled him from the car. A rifle mmed into his back, forcing the air from his lungs. He was dragged through metal doors into a room drenched in chemical stench. Figures inb coats surrounded him, restraining his arms as needles pierced his skin and blood filled clear tubes.
As he struggled, something caught his eye. The symbols. The markings etched into the equipment and walls. Recognition hit him like ice water. These weren’t foreign insignias — they belonged to Cooper Group.
This facility, this nightmare, was one he had personally authorized years ago.
“Stop!” Kolton shouted hoarsely. “You’re making a mistake! I’m Kolton Cooper — Chairman of Cooper Group! I’m the one who owns this ce. Call your superior immediately!”
The technician froze, studied Kolton carefully, then stepped away to make a call.
Momentster, footsteps echoed through the corridor. A tall man entered, half his face concealed behind a mask. His gaze was calm and assessing — almost amused.
“You im you’re Kolton Cooper?” the man asked.
Koltontched onto that question like a lifeline. “Yes! Untie me right now — you’ve crossed a line you can’t afford to cross!”
The man examined him intently but issued nomand to free him. Then, without warning, he stepped forward.
A brutal pnded across Kolton’s face, forcing stars behind his eyes. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he nearly cked out.
“You… you just hit me?” Kolton stammered, stunned, eyes wide with disbelief.
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