?Chapter 1582:


    He understood the meaning better than anyone. In a ce like this, the arrival of figures dressed in white could only mean one thing: human experimentation. Whatever awaited him beyond this point would strip death of its terror and make it seem like a mercy.


    “Kolton,” the Master of Shadows said once more. His voice carried no warmth at all, freezing the air as it passed through the speakers. “Have you already forgotten what I taught you?”


    “You have grown unreliable. A traitor earns no pardon,” Thomas pronounced, each wordnding heavy and deliberate. “Only the dead are capable of guarding secrets forever. Still, after everything you have done in my service through the years… I will grant you a different fate. You will remain alive, but only as something that walks without truly living.”


    A warped kindness threaded through his tone—mercy offered only to make the cruelty sting deeper.


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    Without warning, his voice cooled and hardened. “Begin the procedure.”


    The order fell t and absolute, leaving no room for hesitation. At once, the screen cut out and the image copsed into ck.


    The ceiling fixture red to full strength, bleaching the room in merciless white and stripping Kolton of every shadow he might have hidden behind.


    Several doctors advanced without expression, already unfastening thetches of their cases. Steel tools caught the light, their edges shing with a sterile, icy sheen. One of them lifted an electric clipper and thumbed the switch.


    A dull vibration filled the air—low, mechanical, crawling under the skin.


    “What… What do you want? Stay back. Don’t touch me.” Kolton thrashed against the restraints until the straps bit into his wrists, skin splitting and smearing red, yet his body remained pinned in ce.


    The humming clipper pressed against his scalp. Cold metal. Relentless vibration. Loose strands drifted down across his face and shoulders, severed without care.


    Only then did terror break through, rising fast and swallowing him whole like a wave that refused to recede.


    Beyond the wall, in the observation room behind a sheet of one-way ss, the two covert operatives who had disguised themselves as police officers stood watching, their gazes empty and detached.


    “Why not end it and be done with him?” one muttered, flicking open a lighter and drawing smoke from a fresh cigarette.


    The other said nothing at first, eyes fixed on Kolton’s useless struggle against the table. “If we kill him outright, the disappearance might draw attention and point people toward whoever backs him.”


    “So the boss intends to wipe him clean instead. Strip the memories, gut the mind, leave him breathing but hollow. Turn him into a fool who can’t even form a thought?”


    “That’s the n.”


    The first operative released a slow stream of smoke that curled into a ring, his gaze t and unreadable.


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