?Chapter 1513:


    udius fixed Kiley with a resolute gaze. “Release everything on this sh drive to the public.”


    Kiley froze, instinctively taking a step back, fear and hesitation shing across her face. “Are you certain? udius, do you even grasp what this means? Once this goes online, it won’t just destroy Father—it could obliterate the entire Cooper legacy, a hundred years of history gone in an instant. And once it’s out, there’s no turning back. Even as victims, as members of this family, we’ll be implicated. We could even face prison.”


    It wasn’t death that frightened Kiley, but the thought of ending the Cooper name by her own hands—and worse, dragging her younger brother down with her.


    “It’se to this.” udius let out a bitterugh, his eyes sweeping toward the television, fixed on their father’s arrogant smirk. “Kiley, look at Cooper Group now. Look at Father. He’s a monster. Did you forget that he once tried to eliminate you? Does an organization like this even deserve to exist?”


    Kiley shivered, her gaze drifting from udius’s pleading eyes to the face of their father on the screen—someone utterly alien to her now. The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.


    After a long pause, Kiley slowly unclenched her fists. Thest flicker of family honor died within her, reced by cold determination. Wordlessly, she took the sh drive and walked toward theptop, poised to strike the final, irreversible blow against their father.


    On the live broadcast, Kolton leaned his head back with a sneer after uttering the words “Deification Project,” his contemptuous gaze fixed on the camera lens as though scorning an audience beneath him.


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    “Humph! Do you finally believe I am Kolton Cooper? No one else knows this n. Release me. I’m your boss. Help me escape, and I’ll pay any sum you want.”


    The distorted, crackling voice cut through the silence, icy and unyielding. “We don’t know what you’re talking about. Knowing a random project name doesn’t prove who you are. We only care about money, goods, and whether your story matches the facts we already have.”


    The interrogator’s tone sharpened, filled with cold authority. “Answer carefully. If you truly are our boss, then tell us about the experimental subjects. Where are the people locked in those cages from?”


    Kolton’s expression stiffened. He had expected the mention of the “Deification Project” to cow them into submission—but they were stubborn, unafraid, and utterly unimpressed.


    “Where are they from?” he muttered, irritation flickering behind his eyes. To him, the question seemed as absurd as asking where pork came from. Yet to survive, he had no choice but to answer—and in doing so, he exposed the full, rotting depth of his twisted ideology.


    “What does it matter?” he sneered, his eyes glinting with cold indifference. “There is so much worthless trash in the world. Vagrants, addicts, gamblers drowning in debt, the mentally ill abandoned by their families, unwanted children from remote corners of the earth. Their lives mean nothing—they are leeches, dead weight. And I—”


    He paused, then raised his voice, eyes wild with fanatical zeal. “I give them purpose. I feed them, house them, and in return they be part of human evolution and scientific progress. Isn’t it an honor to make such a sacrifice? Without me, they would rot in the gutters. I am doing charity work—helping society cleanse its waste. I am recycling humanity.”


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