?Chapter 1583:


    The other continued, “Those are our boss’s instructions. After the procedure confirms that Kolton’s memory and reasoning have been wiped clean, we’ll drag him to the Cooper Estate and leave him at the front gate. It will look as though he tried to end his life out of guilt and failed—the side effects nothing more than the aftermath.” He cut a sideways look at his partner, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “He ought to thank our boss for sparing him at all.”


    Then, as if rehearsed, both operatives raised their hands to their chests in the same measured motion, posture stiff with ritual respect, and muttered together, “Great Master of Shadows, we serve only you. Your will guides us. Yourmand binds us.”


    Meanwhile, near the northern outskirts, at the copsed entrance of Tunnel 103, a convoy of army-green jeeps screeched to a halt just outside the barricaded perimeter.


    Dominic jumped down from the passenger seat before the engine had even settled. Moments earlier, he had caught sight of Maia in the emergency broadcast footage. He didn’t pause to think—he sliced his hand through the air. “Send the order out. All units, move in. Begin rescue operations now.”


    With the directive issued, Dominic shoved his sleeves up his forearms and pushed straight into the wreckage. Fine dust lifted with every step, hanging thick in the air.


    Maia strained behind a wheelbarrow heaped with broken concrete and twisted debris, forcing it through the uneven rubble. Grime streaked her cheeks and brow, yet her eyes held steady, sharp with resolve.


    Hearing footsteps closing in, she opened her mouth to warn the neer to keep their distance—but when her gaze rose and found the face approaching, her body locked in ce.


    Grandpa?


    Dominic met her eyes, concern softening his features even as pride flickered beneath it.


    “Focus on pulling out the survivors first,” he instructed, his voice firm and unquestionable. “Everything else can wait. We’ll talk after.”


    “Okay.” Maia gave a brief nod and offered no questions, tightening her grip on the handles as she forced the wheelbarrow onward.


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    At that moment, a cluster of ck sedans rolled up and stopped just beyond the barricade. Their doors swung open in quick session, and Chris stepped out onto the pavement.


    Dressed entirely in ck, jaw set, he moved with long, purposeful strides straight toward the site. One of the staff hurried over and stretched an arm across his path.


    “Sir, this zone is restricted. Rescue personnel only.”


    Chris came to a stop, his eyes cutting past the people and debris until they fixed on that slim yet unyielding figure in the distance.


    “Someone I care about is inside,” he said, each word steady and immovable. “She contacted us and asked for help. I’m going in.”


    He didn’t raise his voice, yet the quiet firmness in it pressed heavier than a shout.


    Maia jerked her head up at once. Across the chaos of shouting workers and drifting clouds of dust, their gazes collided and held.


    “Chris?” Maia whispered under her breath, barely forming the name.


    Dominic caught the subtle shift in her expression and arched a brow, studying the young man whose aura radiated quiet authority. He lifted a hand toward the guards in a brief, decisive motion.


    “Open the way. More hands here won’t hurt.”


    At his signal, the staff stepped aside at once, clearing a path for Chris and those with him.


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