Fifteen minutes earlier.

Tao Fengche raised his head, squinting at the bright light above him. After observing the hazy glow radiating around it for a while, he turned his gaze to the void, staring absentmindedly at the tiny particles floating in the air.

After some time, he blinked and noticed that the dust began to slowly move in the emptiness. Suddenly, he found it hard to discern whether his vision had evolved due to the long imprisonment without feeling the passage of time or if he was starting to experience hallucinations.

He once again shifted his gaze to Zhao Jiayang, who sat silently not far away, slightly bowing his head and staring blankly at the ground, like a silent reef in the middle of the ocean, indifferent to everything happening around him.

Since their brief conversation around ten o’clock in the morning, no matter how hard Tao Fengche tried, Zhao Jiayang hadn’t uttered another word. Later, Zhao Jiayang wouldn’t even spare him a glance, leaving him to perform a one-man show.

Tao Fengche repeatedly tried to engage Zhao Jiayang, exhausting himself to the point of dryness, yet he didn’t even have a drop of water to drink. Zhao Jiayang continued to ignore him. Despite his reluctance, Tao Fengche could only shut his mouth and choose to give up.

With only the two of them in the room, unable to coax any words from Zhao Jiayang and unable to sleep, Tao Fengche widened his eyes and began to pass the time in boredom.

Earlier, when Zhao Jiayang had been willing to talk, he had asked Tao Fengche if he was hungry, but after Tao Fengche declined, he hadn’t mentioned it again. As seconds ticked by, the hunger in Tao Fengche’s stomach gradually revived. He subconsciously glanced at Zhao Jiayang, but the latter remained unresponsive.

Tao Fengche had no choice but to endure.

Just when he thought he would be stuck with Zhao Jiayang for eternity, the door that had been tightly shut suddenly swung open.

The newcomer was a burly alpha, likely around thirty years old, standing over six feet tall with golden-brown hair. Tao Fengche had overheard someone calling him “Gray Bear” during his previous shift.

Gray Bear wore a bulletproof vest and tactical pants, and when he walked briskly, the sound of his combat boots striking the floor echoed like drums.

The drumming quickened, causing a rush of anxiety to swell within Tao Fengche.

Without even glancing at Tao Fengche, he walked directly behind Zhao Jiayang and leaned down, whispering a few words in his ear.

Gray Bear’s voice was too low for Tao Fengche to make out anything clearly; he could only guess the content from Zhao Jiayang’s reaction—Zhao Jiayang turned his head and scrutinized him for a moment.

Zhao Jiayang’s expression was calm, but his gaze was devoid of warmth, as if he were looking at an inanimate object. Tao Fengche felt a chill run down his spine, and a moment later, Zhao Jiayang suddenly commanded, “Take him outside.”

Where to?

Tao Fengche felt confused, but another alpha entered through the door, suppressing him to prevent any movement. At the same time, Gray Bear pulled out a triangular dagger from his pants and cut the ropes binding Tao Fengche.

The blood rushing back through the veins caused a tingling sensation, nearly bringing Tao Fengche to his knees, but Gray Bear quickly lifted him, and with his companion on either side, they dragged him to the center of the outer hall.

The area outside was much larger than Tao Fengche had imagined, resembling an enlarged version of the room inside. More than a dozen fully armed alphas were moving about within it.

Tao Fengche widened his eyes, greedily observing his surroundings, eager to understand as much as possible about his location, but Gray Bear didn’t give him that opportunity—

He slammed Tao Fengche into a chair, cuffed his hands behind the back of the chair, and tightly bound him with ropes, as if he were securing a dead pig.

Compared to the previous silence, Gray Bear used considerable force, pressing the rope deeply into Tao Fengche’s flesh through his clothing, making him feel like a tightly wrapped mummy.

Tao Fengche had no idea what was happening. He tentatively opened his mouth to ask about the situation, only to have a large bundle of cloth shoved into his mouth by Gray Bear.

The coarse fibers pressing against the root of his tongue made him nauseous, and he couldn’t utter a single word. He could only watch helplessly as the alphas around him grouped into teams of three and dispersed, then opened something resembling a curtain, operating devices in their hands before hiding behind it.

Their figures gradually vanished, blending into the surrounding concrete walls, making anyone who looked over perceive only an empty space.

Tao Fengche stared in disbelief, fixated on the spot where one group had seemingly disappeared—he seemed to realize what it was.

Earlier that year, Tao Zhixing had mentioned to him that a scientist sponsored by the Tao family had developed a curtain capable of creating 3D holographic projections. The curtain would automatically lock onto the target’s retina and perform calculations, presenting an image that could perfectly blend with the surrounding environment, providing cover for those hiding behind it to complete their tasks.

Tao Fengche had been very interested in it, but Tao Zhixing had said the curtain had not yet gone into production and that the scientist and his laboratory were in another city; he would take Tao Fengche to see it when he was on break. Unfortunately…

Tao Fengche never expected to encounter it in such a situation.

It wasn’t surprising that Zhao Jiayang, as the second-in-command, could obtain such a curtain, but why had he suddenly brought it out and sent his men to ambush from behind?

…Could it be that someone was coming to rescue him?

Then… was it Sui Yuesheng?

Tao Fengche’s heart skipped a beat.

He wanted Sui Yuesheng to come, yet he feared that Sui Yuesheng actually would.

These dozens of hours felt like a century, and he missed Sui Yuesheng terribly; but now, he was in a risky situation, and Zhao Jiayang had clearly made thorough preparations, digging a pit just waiting for someone to jump in, making it extremely dangerous.

Two conflicting emotions intertwined, leaving Tao Fengche unable to distinguish between priorities, completely flustered.

He instinctively turned his head to look for Zhao Jiayang, only to find him standing about two meters behind him, accompanied by Gray Bear and the mute, standing in front of the curtain.

After catching Tao Fengche’s gaze, Zhao Jiayang simply looked over and even curled his lips into a smile, which could be described as cold.

The mute held a machine in his hand, his fingers flying over it, and moments later, Zhao Jiayang also disappeared into the air.

At that moment, the entire hall seemed to have only Tao Fengche’s figure left, and the approaching footsteps grew louder.

Tao Fengche’s heart felt as if a high rope was suspended in the air, with a bucket of water hanging below it. The bucket swung back and forth, and with each sway, the liquid inside surged with inertia, causing his heartbeat to fluctuate erratically.

Just before Tao Fengche’s own heartbeat drove him to despair, a familiar figure suddenly appeared at the section of stairs in front of him. He didn’t dare to breathe, staring intently at the half-visible body until the entire figure revealed itself—

Gray curly hair, gray-blue eyes, with a hint of impatience in his gaze.

It was Sui Yuesheng.

The person who haunted his dreams.

He had really come, and after seeing him, Sui Yuesheng even smiled at him.

Tao Fengche could hardly believe what he was seeing, overwhelmed by a surge of joy. His eyes greedily scanned Sui Yuesheng inch by inch, but then he suddenly remembered the dangerous situation surrounding them and hurried to shout a warning to Sui Yuesheng.

But he was bound, with a towel stuffed in his mouth, unable to utter a single word.

Desperately, he used his tongue to push against the towel, trying to spit it out, but the cloth had swollen from absorbing moisture, making it larger than before. His efforts only left his tongue aching, and the urge to vomit grew stronger.

He struggled wildly, but this only tightened the ropes that bound him.

All he could do was watch helplessly as a bullet shot from somewhere, heading straight for Sui Yuesheng.

Instinctively, Sui Yuesheng shifted his body slightly, and the bullet grazed his right arm. Blood quickly spread on his black trench coat, leaving a dark mark that continued to expand, like a blooming crimson flower.

Tao Fengche’s eyes widened with a mix of rage and fear.

He had never hated his own powerlessness and naivety more than at this moment—if he hadn’t let down his guard so easily around Zhao Jiayang, none of this might have happened, or at least not so catastrophically.

Sui Yuesheng only felt a cold sensation sweep across his arm, and in the next second, intense pain followed.

In a flash, he clenched his teeth, quickly turned his body, and raised his injured right arm to shoot in the direction from which the bullet had come—even though to his eyes, it was just an ordinary wall. Soon after, there was a suppressed cry of pain and the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground.

He had bet correctly!

Sui Yuesheng quickly retreated, slipping back into the stairwell, his body pressing tightly against the wall.

Though both guns were equipped with silencers, neither the gunshot wound nor the sound of a body hitting the floor could be faked. In that brief exchange of gunfire, the SWAT officers following Sui Yuesheng immediately understood what had happened.

Guan Hui, with a stern face, signaled the SWAT team to all conceal themselves against the walls like Sui Yuesheng, then glanced over. “What’s the situation?”

Sui Yuesheng accepted the bandages handed to him by the SWAT officer, wrapped them tightly around his wound over his coat to stop the bleeding, then bit off the bandage and tied a knot. “They’re using something that creates visual deception, attacking from behind it. When we look at it, it just seems like an ordinary wall. Be cautious of ambushes when you enter.”

Guan Hui furrowed his brows deeply, forming a frown. A younger SWAT officer muttered instinctively, “What should we do then?”

Realizing his mistake as soon as he spoke, he quickly lowered his head and apologized. Guan Hui shook his head without reprimanding him.

This was enemy territory, and in this situation, where the enemy was hidden, and they were exposed, with the other side possessing a visual concealment device—going in would make them sitting ducks.

The same doubt loomed in every SWAT officer’s mind, even Guan Hui was a bit uncertain, though none of them voiced it.

Guan Hui exchanged a glance with Sui Yuesheng and lowered his voice to calm the team. “It’s just visual deception; they haven’t really disappeared from the room. As long as they’re still inside, we can flush them out! Listen for footsteps, form up in tactical formation, and search!”

“Understood!”

The SWAT officers, armed with submachine guns, entered the staircase in an orderly manner.

Although they were mentally prepared, the sight of the empty hall and the lone, struggling hostage in the middle still made them gasp.

But no one hesitated.

The SWAT team moved in pairs, forming a V-shape as they began their sweep.

An intense battle was about to erupt.