?Chapter 1570:


    But if he could be a protected witness and spill everything he knew, there might still be a path to survival. The mysterious caller had been right—if he stayed hidden, he would either rot in the desert or be erased like an insect under the covert operatives’ heel. He still didn’t know who that voice on the phone belonged to, but it had been hisst lifeline.


    Kolton knew the weight of his crimes. They were more than enough to imprison him for life. Prison, at least, was infinitely better than death.


    He let out a long, unsteady breath, trying to loosen the knot of tension in his chest. Atst, he was safe.


    His relief didn’tst. Kolton’s eyes snapped into focus. Something in the passingndscape was deeply wrong. This was not the route to Wront’s central police headquarters.


    At an intersection, the cruiser veered sharply right, plunging down a narrow, poorly lit side road. Fear seized him instantly. He lunged forward and mmed against the metal partition separating him from the front seat, his voice shaking. “Where… where the hell are you taking me?”


    The young officer in the driver’s seat let out a low, mocking chuckle. “Where you belong. You’ve kept our boss waiting long enough.”


    Kolton’s breath caught in his throat. “You’re working with the covert operatives?”


    The night pressed down thick and heavy, like an imprable shroud.


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    The police car sliced through the darkness along Wront’s outer highway, tires droning steadily against the asphalt. Streetlights shed past the window in a relentless stream, their fractured reflections sliding across the bulletproof ss and dancing over Kolton’s grimy face, sharpening his features into something almost feral.


    He crouched low in the shadows of the back seat, his expression eerily calm—bordering on resigned eptance. It looked as though he had surrendered to fate. In reality, his mind was racing, turning over every detail.


    He had mentally rehearsed tonight’s n from every possible angle. By all logic, he should never have ended up here. Over the years, Wront’s police force had undergone heavy purges, but at least half the senior ranks were still men he had personally promoted—his own loyalists. The other half had long benefited from quiet favors tied to Cooper Group and had tacitly epted his influence. His surrender had been meticulously coordinated with the mysterious caller in advance. Every checkpoint, every vehicle switch, every blind spot in the surveince—he had known them all intimately. Yet somehow, everything had gone catastrophically wrong.


    Kolton tilted his head slightly, pretending to gaze idly out the window. The scenery had shifted. The sparse industrial buildings had vanished, reced by dense, rolling forest pressing in from both sides of the road. He recognized it instantly—the deste northern suburbs.


    As he stared into the pitch-ck wall of trees, no fear rose in his chest. Only a sudden, savage spark of hope.


    No surveince. No streetlights. Limited visibility andplex terrain. This was his chance—hisst and only chance tonight.


    The cruiser was fast, but the rough, winding road forced the driver to ease off the elerator. It wasn’t moving so quickly that jumping out would be suicidal. Kolton clenched his teeth, every muscle in his body coiling tight. If he timed the door perfectly—even if he hit the ground hard and shattered bones—as long as he could disappear into those woods, he would be free.


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