Chapter 13

Chapter 13

While unconscious, Jueqian seemed to hear people talking.

"We must get the key out."

"I will find that doctor and everything he has done..."

The muffled voices carried a distinct, bone-deep hatred.

Wen Jueqian tried to remember the words, but consciousness was soon swallowed back into darkness.

As he regained consciousness, Wen Jueqian slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a worn ceiling, with a surgical light hanging directly overhead.

The room was windowless, with monotonous grayish-white walls, like an abandoned warehouse. Unidentified objects were stacked against the walls, draped in yellowed dust covers.

The light source came from the surgical light above his head, not at full brightness, casting only a dim, yellowish glow.

He lay flat on his back on some narrow surface, and the air smelled of stale metal and dust, like a space sealed off for years.

Wen Jueqian tried to move his body, but his limbs were restrained by something.

He forced his head up and saw that his arms and legs were held fast by black straps.

The straps were too tight to break free from easily.

"You're awake."

A voice came from ahead and to the side—a young male voice, polite and courteous, like he was greeting a guest, not a kidnapped hostage.

Everything he saw after waking up made his situation clear fast.

He pushed down the panic of being in the same room as his captors and turned toward the voice.

A figure stepped slowly out of the shadows.

He wore a research center security guard's uniform, but a mask covered his face.

The mask was pure white, covering his entire face.

On its surface, a simple pattern was drawn in black lines: a chain broken in two.

Wen Jueqian's pupils narrowed sharply.

He recognized that symbol.

Natural Order.

An extremist group operating in the shadows, dedicated to the principle of following ABO biological instincts, regarding any scientific attempt to intervene, balance, or optimize these traits as sacrilege.

They opposed suppressants, artificial reproduction, genetic modification, and similar technologies, believing that only the pairing of a highly compatible Alpha and Omega constituted a "natural and sacred" marriage, and were hostile to all AB, BA, and AA relationships.

They harbored a deep, burning hatred for industry-leading biotech giants like Aegis.

"I apologize for the unpleasant surroundings," the masked man continued, even bowing slightly, with an elegant, ritualistic grace.

"Although you are Wen Yanxu's fiancé, we've done a thorough investigation and confirmed you haven't personally taken part in those experiments that subvert the natural order. So please don't be too afraid. As long as you're willing to cooperate, I can guarantee your safety."

Wen Jueqian didn't answer right away. He didn't believe a single word the man said.

Forced to stay lying on the operating table, his chest rising and falling slightly with each breath.

His mind quickly assessed his condition, the environment, and the masked man's attitude, looking for any way to save himself.

Concealed by his body, his fingertips moved quietly, brushing against a hard metal object sewn into the inner lining of his sleeve.

It was a special blade he'd prepared before arriving on the island, tucked into a hidden pocket in his cuff.

The blade was made of a special alloy, and with a press of the mechanism, a sharp blade would snap open.

He hadn't expected to actually use it, let alone in a situation like this one.

"No need to be so tense." The masked man seemed to take his silence for fear, his tone taking on a soothing edge.

He walked over to the operating table and looked down at him with a condescending gaze.

Wen Jueqian could tell there was no kind expression behind that mask.

Just then, another set of footsteps echoed from deeper in the room's shadows.

Wen Jueqian turned his gaze.

It was Jin Wang.

He made no effort to hide his identity, still wearing the same clothes from earlier, his Aegis name badge still pinned to his chest.

His expression was hostile, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He held a light device, its screen glowing faintly.

Wen Jueqian noticed it was an unusual model.

Jin Wang didn't even look at Wen Jueqian, speaking straight to the masked man in the "security guard" getup: "Cut the useless talk. Get to work."

His voice was dry, barely concealing his agitation, a far cry from the well-mannered assistant he'd been before.

"Mr. Wen." Only then did Jin Wang turn his gaze to Wen Jueqian, his voice stripped of all former respect, leaving only a harsh, threatening edge.

"We just need you and Mr. Wen to cooperate. Don't worry, this'll be over soon, and you'll be safe."

His fears had come true—he'd been kidnapped because he was Wen Yanxu's fiancé, the best hostage on the island to use against Wen Yanxu.

Jin Wang said nothing more. He stepped forward and, none too gently, unfastened the straps around Wen Jueqian's wrists and ankles.

Then, before Wen Jueqian could react, Jin Wang grabbed his arm, twisted his hands roughly behind his back, and bound his wrists tightly together with another set of straps.

Wen Jueqian sucked in a sharp breath.

The position forced him to arch his chest, leaving him perched on the edge of the operating table in an awkward, vulnerable pose.

Then the surgical light above suddenly blazed to full brightness.

Blinded by the sudden glare, Wen Jueqian instinctively squeezed his eyes shut, and tears streamed involuntarily down his cheeks.

"Yes." The masked man's voice moved closer, carrying an unsettling, appreciative note.

"What a perfect expression—fragile, helpless, like a lamb being led to slaughter."

"President Wen [Wen Yanxu] will be heartbroken when he sees this."

Wen Jueqian clenched his jaw, forcing himself to adapt to the harsh light and reopen his eyes.

He saw the masked man point the holo-device at him, and the biometric scan unlocked it successfully.

The masked man opened the video recording function on the holo-device, aiming the camera at himself, and then at Wen Jueqian behind him, who sat on the edge of the operating table with tear-streaked face and hands bound behind his back.

His mask shifted slightly as he moved, then quickly adjusted itself, fitting perfectly to conceal his face.

When he spoke again, the feigned politeness vanished, replaced by a cloying, venomous taunt:

"Good evening, esteemed President Wen."

He drawled, like a sinister serpent, "Guess where your beautiful and charming fiancé is right now?"

He thrust the camera close to Wen Jueqian, almost poking it into his face, capturing every trace of his dishevelment. "Look, how pitiful. These tears, this appearance, tsk tsk tsk, so pitiful it's almost endearing."

Then he turned the holo-device toward himself, as if Wen Yanxu were truly standing before him: "Tell me, how should I deal with him? Should I send him back intact, or—"

He paused deliberately, then continued with malicious intent: "Give him something to remember?"

The recording ended, and the masked man lowered his head to operate the device a few times.

"Alright, that's enough." Jin Wang made no comment on his video, urging, "Done filming, let's go."

The masked man put away the holo-device, walked over, yanked Wen Jueqian off the operating table, and pushed him forward.

Outside the door was a dim corridor with peeling walls, the overhead light tubes broken, and emergency lights flickering on and off.

After walking for what seemed like ages, they finally reached the ground floor, where a sealed SUV was parked outside.

Wen Jueqian noticed that the model and markings were those of the island's patrol vehicles.

After they shoved him inside, the two men sat on either side of him, sandwiching him in the middle.

Once the vehicle started, it used autonomous driving at high speed, and Wen Jueqian could feel occasional bumps.

His heart hammered in his chest.

But the more dire the situation, the harder he forced himself to stay calm and search for a chance to escape.

His fingers fumbled behind his back, adjusting their angle, painstakingly picking at the blade that had shifted during the earlier struggle.

With his hands bound, it was hard to exert force, and cold sweat beaded on his temples.

The masked man caught his labored breathing, leaned in, his tone almost solicitous, "Mr. Wen, relax. I assure you, as long as President Wen meets our demands, we'll return you safely."

Wen Jueqian turned away, avoiding him.

He finally retrieved the special blade hidden in his sleeve.

The cold, hard feel of it brought a strange sense of safety. Wen Jueqian gripped the blade, using the slack from the restraints' give to begin cutting at the binding around his wrists.

The binding material was special and tough. Though the blade was sharp, with his body weak and unable to exert full strength, progress was slow.

His subtle movements could not be noticed.

Though his voice was hoarse from the strain, he spoke up:

"What do you want?"

The masked man let out a mocking laugh as if he'd heard something absurd: "Planning to negotiate with us? Mr. Wen, you don't have that qualification."

His smile faded, and his tone turned cold.

"Your only job is to be a good hostage."