In the dimly lit corridor, Remy and Finnegan came face-to-face with a man in a white protective suit just a few feet away.


    That man was Number 64. He usually followed Sheryl around and was considered one of her trusted aides.


    At that moment, Remy lowered his gaze slightly, a vicious glint shing in his eyes. With his back turned to the man, he quietly slipped his right hand into his inner pocket and wrapped his fingers around the cold grip of his gun.


    "Is something wrong, Number 64?" Finnegan asked, feigning indifference. Number 64 scrutinized the two of them before asking, "Who''s on the bed?"


    "A failed test subject," Finnegan replied evenly. "We''re disposing of the body." "This direction leads to the base''s secret passage—used for emergencies and escape. The incinerator isn''t this way."


    Sensing something off, Number 64''s tone turned cold and sharp. "Who exactly is on that bed? Who are you taking out of here? If you refuse to answer, I''ll report this to Ms. Gillis and have her handle it personally."


    Remy remained expressionless, still facing away. Finnegan clenched his teeth as sweat slid down his temple and disappeared into the darkness.


    "Not answering me?" Number 64 sneered. "I''ll call someone over to inspect it. Move as-"


    Before he could finish, Remy''s eyes darkened. Murderous intent shed across his face as he spun around and drew his gun in one swift motion.


    A deafening bang echoed through the corridor.


    But the shot hadn''te from Remy''s gun.


    Finnegan stood there, drenched in sweat, panting heavily as he gripped a gun with both trembling hands. A gruesome bullet hole had appeared in the center of Number 64''s forehead.


    His eyes remained wide open as he copsed stiffly to the ground.


    Remy''s eyes widened in shock. He had given Finnegan the gun for self-defense in case of emergencies; he never imagined Finnegan would actually fire it, and with such resolve.


    "D-Did I just... kill someone?"


    Finnegan trembled violently. "Remy... I killed someone... Why did I shoot him?"


    "Don''t panic," Remy said


    immediately, stepping forward and pulling Finnegan close. He fixed bin with a steady, unwavering gaze. "You didn''t kill him. I did.


    "If anyone investigates, I''ll take responsibility. My hands have already been stained


    with blood all these years. One more life won''t make a difference."


    "Remy..."


    A surge of emotion overwhelmed Finnegan, bringing him to the brink of tears.


    Suddenly, a piercing rm red throughout the corridor.


    "We can''t waste any more time. Hurry!"


    They pushed the gurney Amber lying beneath the sheet and ran toward the main exit.


    When they reached the locked door, Remy entered his administrative password andpleted an iris scan.


    The door to the secret passage


    creaked open, and a freezing gust of wind from Domere Mountain struck them head-on carrying with the


    aw, intoxicating taste of freedom


    "The police are on their way. The people you''re supposed to meet should already be waiting at the foot of the mountain."


    Remy wrapped the frail Amber tightly in a nket, lifted her into his arms, and then carefully transferred her to Finnegan.


    "Carry her and go down the mountain. Don''t look back. Leave everything here to


    me."


    Tears filled Finnegan''s eyes as he shook his head. "Remy, how can I leave you here alone? It''s too dangerous. Let''s go together!"


    "Soon, they''ll be swarming this entrance. I''ll hold them off to make sure you both reach the foot of the mountain safely. No one will stop you."


    Remy curled his lips into a faint smile and patted Finnegan''s shoulder. "The one meeting you is the fourth scion of the Taylor family, and the president of Beckett Group, Jasper-


    "Oh, I forgot—he''s no longer the president now. But that''s beside the point. Just go


    with them."


    The moment Finnegan heard Jasper''s name, shock and hope lit up his face.