Chapter 115

Chapter 115

The resort castle, reputedly crafted by its founder, Kang Dunwood, served as his cherished abode in his twilight years. Every detail, from secret passages to intricate mechanisms, showcased his meticulous thought. Often, when a path seemed to vanish, a simple turn of a lamp post or statue would magically reveal the way forward.

These ingenious designs were inspired by Kang Dunwood's youthful days as a sailor.

He once spent over a year adrift at sea, even surviving a pirate raid by hiding in a concealed deck compartment. This harrowing experience ignited his lifelong fascination with elaborate mechanisms and escape routes.

He delighted in inviting guests to explore his castle and uncover these hidden wonders.

He even established a reward system: finding a hidden mechanism earned a stamp, and collecting ten stamps entitled one to a personal prize from him.

Luo Ci was utterly captivated by this treasure hunt. Each day after meals, he would eagerly venture out, returning only at sunset.

One morning, Luo Ci awoke, groggily washed up, and headed to the dining room, where Samuel and William were engrossed in a business discussion.

The moment William spotted the little one shuffling out of the bedroom, he immediately greeted, "Good morning, little master."

"Morning... Uncle William," the child mumbled in a tiny, milky voice.

Samuel asked, "Did you sleep well last night?"

Luo Ci nodded slowly.

He pressed his small hands onto the chair and clumsily climbed up. The table was already set with several trays holding various fruit preserves and toast.

Samuel asked, "Which flavor would you like?"

"Hmm..." Luo Ci glanced around, then pointed at the citrus jam. "This one."

With practiced ease, Samuel used a table knife to scoop the jam from the dish and spread it evenly on the toast. The plump, glossy red citrus chunks looked incredibly enticing. After ensuring the jam was perfectly applied, he placed another slice of toast on top, then deftly cut the sandwich into perfect little squares.

Luo Ci whispered, "I can hold it and eat it myself."

A clear smile played on Samuel’s lips.

He placed the cut toast on the plate in front of the child. "Our little angel has such a small mouth. Cutting the toast into small pieces ensures you won't choke."

As he spoke, he poured the child a cup of warm milk.

Luo Ci had a habit of drinking warm milk in the morning. He slowly lifted the cup with both hands, drinking half of it in one gulp to soothe his throat before beginning to enjoy his lovingly prepared breakfast.

The neatly cut toast pieces were arranged into a heart shape, the jam so abundant it seemed ready to burst from the bread. With a gentle bite, the sweet and tangy flavor spread across his tongue. Luo Ci ate until his belly was round as a drum before pushing the plate away. "I'm going out now, okay?"

"Go ahead," Samuel said, patting the child's head. "Have fun."

He didn’t bother reminding the child to be careful—every inch of the vacation castle was under surveillance by his people. They wouldn’t interfere with the little one’s adventures, but the moment any potential danger arose, they would neutralize the threat preemptively.

Once the child had gone downstairs, Samuel leaned back in his chair, and William tensed up.

"Continue," Samuel said.

"Yes..." William began. "As per your orders, we’ve detained three hundred paintings at customs. After appraisal, their total value exceeds two hundred billion in trade currency."

"Two hundred billion..." Samuel chuckled. "The great Chairman Thompson must be tearing his hair out by now."

"Tearing his hair out" was an understatement.

Thompson’s current mood could only be described as apoplectic and utterly desperate.

Over the years, he had painstakingly laundered his embezzled funds by converting them into liquid art assets, all for the sake of convenient asset transfers. Little did he expect it would also make it easier for others to act against him.

His life’s savings were tied up in those three hundred paintings, now impounded by Samuel’s men.

One could only imagine Thompson’s agony.

William asked, "Should we keep the paintings at customs, or...?"

"Let them stew in customs for now," Samuel said with a smirk. "We need to apply more pressure on the Chairman. After all, he’s getting old—it’s time for him to retire. Many have 'benefited' from his 'generosity.' Plant some rumors, and those people will know what to do."

William pondered silently before grasping his meaning. "Understood."

Averisa was never short of ruthless operatives. Over the years, Thompson had lined his pockets ruthlessly, making plenty of enemies in the process.

Two hundred billion was no small sum. Once news spread that paintings worth that amount were up for grabs, one could only imagine the lengths these criminals would go to find them.

Previously, those Thompson had wronged might have hesitated to act, fearing retaliation due to his position. But now, with so many desperate individuals entering the hunt, chaos was inevitable. For instance, killing Thompson and pinning the blame on those hunting for the paintings—claiming they tortured him for information—would be all too easy.

Once Thompson stepped down by year’s end, he would become nothing more than fresh meat for circling vultures.

The mere thought made William’s blood run cold.

Samuel asked, "What about the spies Thompson sent over?"

Kang Dunwood’s banquet had invited dignitaries from every sphere, including many underworld syndicate heads. These guests, in turn, brought along numerous attendants and bodyguards. To maintain the grandeur of the event, Kang Dunwood had also hired orchestras and service staff.

As a result, the castle had become a den of intrigue—an ideal opportunity for agents from certain organizations who usually struggled to infiltrate such circles.

Thompson was an old fox. How could he not foresee the perilous fate awaiting him after his downfall? He wouldn’t miss this chance.

But going against Samuel came with existential risks.

William replied, "Most have been captured, with only a handful still hiding in the castle... How should we deal with these agents?"

Samuel said, "Terminate them with discretion. Don’t disturb my little angel."

William bowed deeply. "Understood."

......

In the garden, the fountain performed rhythmically to a light, melodious tune. At night, under neon lights, it would attract many couples seeking romance.

Luo Ci darted through the oak orchard behind the fountain—an area he had already explored the day before.

Beyond the orchard stood a palladian marble pavilion, its entrance revealing a lavish courtyard resembling a hotel lobby.

Without realizing it, Luo Ci wandered inside.

Having toured many places over the past two days, he knew the rooms here were designed like suites. As he entered, a service staff member happened to step out of one suite.

The child sniffed the air, catching an alluring, unfamiliar fragrance.

Curious, he walked into the room.

Inside, several gambling tables were set up, and a blindingly ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling. Many people sprawled drunkenly on the sofas.

Since all drinks and meals were complimentary during the banquet, profligacy ran wild. Expensive, half-finished bottles of alcohol lay toppled on the tables.

Luo Ci had been drawn in by a pleasant scent, but upon entering, the only thing he could smell was the overpowering pheromones of an Alpha.

Alphas are naturally dominant and competitive, especially at the gambling table, where excitement triggers intense pheromones. The innate oppressive force in these pheromones can render Omegas immobile, dizzy, and disoriented.

The moment he stepped inside, he froze in place. Though his glands hadn't fully developed yet, the dense Alpha pheromones in the air made it hard for him to breathe, leaving him gasping for air.

A distant, muffled voice floated into his ears as if through a veil: "Hah, Little Robbie’s almost lost all his chips. Isn't he going to blow through his inheritance at this rate?"

"What’s the big deal? A starved ox is still bigger than a sheep."

"Such a shame. Little Robbie comes from a prominent political family. He didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps to become a senator, and they say he was obsessed with gaming not long ago, sinking money into it. Then suddenly, he quit and got hooked on gambling instead. Just pissing away his fortune—who knows how long it’ll last?"

"Shut up! Stop yapping!" Little Robbie slammed his hand on the table, drunk and seething after a huge loss. The surrounding whispers only fueled his anger.

His outburst instantly silenced the room.

Little Robbie raised a bottle and knocked back another swig of liquor. Then, he suddenly caught an unusual scent. Since most people in the casino were Alphas or Betas, a little Omega stood out like a sore thumb to his Alpha senses. "Well, well, what do we have here? Look what the cat dragged in."

"Ever played poker?" Little Robbie lurched closer, grinning. "Want me to teach you?"

Luo Ci scrunched up his nose at the reek of alcohol and the overpowering Alpha pheromones wafting off him.

This guy’s pheromones are disgusting…

Nothing at all like Samuel’s.

The kid had always been sheltered, surrounded only by Betas or Alphas who used scent suppressants.

This was the first time he’d ever smelled a strange Alpha’s pheromones so clearly.

The overwhelming assault left him feeling sick and nauseous.

His face was pale as fresh snow, soft as a milk bun, with clear, bright amber eyes untainted by the world—obviously well cared for.

Though drunk, Little Robbie still had a sliver of sobriety remaining. He knew that any child appearing at this banquet had to be from an influential family. With his senator father already fallen from power, he had no protection left, so even if he had ill intentions, he didn’t dare make a move.

"Worried about not having chips? Don’t be, I’ve got plenty…" Little Robbie coaxed, slipping a chip into the kid's hand.

Just then, a waiter carrying a tray stepped forward. "Excuse me, minors are not permitted at the gambling tables."

Taking advantage of Little Robbie’s drunken haze, the waiter swept up the child and swiftly left the room.

By the time Little Robbie realized what had happened, all that remained was an empty doorway. Fuming, he erupted in curses and threatened to find and report the waiter.

Back in the garden, the fresh air washed over him, helping the dizzy kid somewhat recover. Still, the lingering nausea from the Alpha pheromones left his face deathly pale. The waiter rubbed his back soothingly until he slowly regained his breath.

"Nasty smells in there, huh? Little Omegas shouldn’t be in places like casinos—it’s overwhelming for them."

"...Thank you." Luo Ci blinked groggily and looked up at him.

The waiter who had rescued him from the casino was ruggedly handsome—thick, bold eyebrows framing a sharp, heroic face. His uniform clung tightly to his muscular frame, looking a size too small, slightly out of place.

In the dim lighting of the casino, it hadn’t been as noticeable, but under the bright garden lights, his posture—straight-backed and disciplined—didn’t match that of an ordinary waiter.

Yet Luo Ci didn’t feel an ounce of fear. Tilting his head, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Pabi…" Perhaps it was the child’s soft, harmless demeanor that made the waiter instinctively answer with his codename. Realizing his slip, he rubbed his forehead in frustration.

But it didn’t matter now.

This operation had been going poorly from the start.

Though the agents in his team had infiltrated the castle undercover, since yesterday, he’d lost contact with the others.

A sinking feeling grew in his gut.

He’d immediately discarded all communication devices to avoid being tracked, focusing solely on playing his role as a waiter to avoid suspicion.

He’d been debating whether to proceed with the mission alone when he spotted Little Robbie approaching the child. He knew exactly what kind of scum Little Robbie was—he’d seen enough over the past few days. So, without thinking, he’d scooped the little one up and left.

Looking back, he knew Little Robbie was too much of a coward to actually harm a child.

During his combat evaluations, his instructor had praised his bravery but noted his occasional impulsiveness. Clearly, the disappearance of his teammates had unsettled him, leading to this reckless move.

There was no going back to his waiter disguise now. His next concern was how to escape the castle.

Then, he noticed the child’s bright, curious eyes fixed on him. From the moment he’d first seen him, he’d been captivated—his round, soft face like sticky rice cake, his big, beautiful eyes unlike any child he’d ever seen.

Though he had no interest in luxury goods, his work occasionally brought him into contact with high society. He could tell at a glance that every stitch of his clothing was custom-made.

Meaning his family had to be someone of significant status.

He hated the idea of using a child, but right now, he didn’t have any better options.