?Chapter 1511:


    Over in Wront, Pattie pped a hand over her lips. Rnd’s eyes red wide. Alice slowly set her wine ss aside.


    The Cooper family’s covert operatives reacted in stunned disbelief as the news reached them. They charged into Kolton’s office in a frantic rush — only to be met with an empty room. The sole object left behind was a spare phone, abandoned in in sight on the tabletop.


    Meanwhile, the Master of Shadows stared at the broadcast, skeletal fingers curling until his nails split skin, his gaze zing with lethal intent. “Fool,” he snarled under his breath.


    Online, social media erupted. Users flooded every tform with frantic spection,ments streaming faster than they could be read.


    “What is going on? Is this some kind of cyberattack?”


    “I heard two major hacker factions joined forces. This feels like the start of something massive.”


    “Is that really Kolton Cooper, the wealthiest man in Wront? How did he end up bound like that?”


    “New evidence about Cooper Group just dropped. Some of the rumors were true. They’re finished.”


    And at that moment, a hoarse voice spilled from every screen at once.


    The audio crackled with heavy interference,yered in static that distorted its original tone, yet the words carried an unmistakable air of cold authority.


    “Are you truly Kolton Cooper?”


    ?????????еs ??o?? wо??’?? р???? ???????? ???? ??а????????е????.с??m


    On screen, Kolton faltered for a brief second, surprise shing across his face. He had already worn his throat raw trying to exin himself to these so-called kidnappers, never expecting them to circle back to the very first question. Irritation surged through him — he waspletely unaware that his every reaction was being broadcast to the world.


    “I am. I really am. How many times do I have to say it?” Kolton yelled, his voice pitching toward hysteria. “I am the chairman of Cooper Group. Bring your leader to me right now. I will make you regret this.”


    The stream cut off the curseden tirade that followed, silencing it cleanly.


    “Very well.” The distorted electronic voice lingered, its pause edged with unmistakable mockery. “To confirm your identity, please respond to the following question. Mr. Kolton Cooper — would you care to exin the real purpose behind Cooper Group’s global underground biochemical research facilities?”


    The single question dropped like a shockwave, plunging the world into silence.


    On screen, Kolton stiffened, reflexively lifting his head to nce toward the camera fixed in the corner. He still believed this was nothing more than a private interrogation.


    Beyond that room, however, countless eyes across the globe were locked onto his image on massive public disys.


    In the next instant — whether driven by panic or by the urge to assert his authority in hopes of bargaining for his freedom — Kolton pulled his lips into a crooked, overconfident smile.


    “Well. You really asked the wrong question.”


    Kolton locked eyes with the camera, his gaze wild and unhinged, radiating ruthless arrogance — a twisted certainty, as if he existedpletely beyond the bounds of morality andw.


    A chilling smile crept across his blood-streaked lips. “This isn’t just a research project,” he said slowly, each word deliberate. “It’s… our Deification Project.”


    His breathing was ragged, each gasp punctuating his words. He leaned closer to the camera as though peering straight into the soul of whoever watched. “Naturally, this is far beyond your pay grade. Call your superiors. Speak the words ‘Deification Project’ — they’ll recognize me immediately. They’ll have you on your knees, untying me before you can even catch your breath.”


    For a heartbeat, the world seemed to freeze.


    .


    .


    .