CHAPTER 122: 122

At first, Hunter didn’t get anything useful. All he saw was a cluster of scientists in white coats, hunched over their stations, murmuring in low tones as they ran tests and scribbled notes. Strange equipment buzzed and clicked, filling the sterile air with a low mechanical hum. None of them looked out of place, and certainly not like the man he was searching for.

He moved silently through the corridors, scanning every corner, every security door, every lab. Ground floor—nothing. First floor—nothing. The man was nowhere to be seen. His frustration began to mount.

Tapping the mic discreetly, Hunter muttered under his breath, "Knight... are you sure this is the same place he came to? What if we followed the wrong trail? What if there’s another facility?"

Up in the tree line, hidden behind layers of leaves and camouflage, Knight exhaled a sharp breath, irritation clear in his tone. "For the umpteenth time, it’s the place. Look at the damn vehicles, Hunter. The markings, the security, the elite guard rotation—it all matches. You think they set this circus up for fun?"

Hunter scowled, ducking behind a pillar as two guards passed by. "I’ve checked the ground floor, first floor too. Nothing. Not even a shadow of him."

Knight’s voice lowered, more serious this time. "Did you check the basement?"

Hunter froze. "Basement?" he echoed.

"Of course there’s a basement," Knight replied, almost impatient. "This kind of operation? They don’t keep their secrets on display upstairs with the lab rats. Whatever’s going on here—it’ll be underground."

Hunter clenched his jaw, glancing at the elevator at the far end of the hall. Two armed guards stood on either side of it, their stances rigid, their rifles gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Unlike the other doors, this one required not just a card, but a retinal scan.

A grim smile tugged at Hunter’s lips as he whispered, "Basement it is then. Guess I’ll have to get creative."

Hunter was stunned when the realization hit him. Why the hell didn’t I think of checking for a basement? He rubbed his temple, annoyed with himself.

From the earpiece, a low, teasing chuckle filtered through. Knight’s voice was thick with amusement.

"Seems like you’re slipping, Hunter. At this rate, you’re not going to hold the title of number one spy anymore, are you?"

Hunter let out a sharp, frustrated huff, narrowing his eyes. "Tch! No one can replace me. Don’t forget—I’m the best damn bounty hunter alive. Humph!"

"Well, well," Knight drawled, clearly smirking on the other end. "Then prove it. Go on—check."

Hunter clicked his tongue, irritated by Knight’s mockery. The words stung more than he liked to admit, and for a moment, he found himself distracted, replaying them in his head. But quickly, he shook it off. Focus. No room for mistakes here.

He searched tirelessly, combing through every hallway, every restricted door, every corner where a basement entrance might be concealed. Hours passed. Nothing. Not a single lead.

From the treeline outside, Knight’s voice murmured again, doubtful now.

"Maybe... there isn’t a basement at all."

Hunter frowned, his instincts screaming otherwise. "No. That doesn’t make sense. With this much security, with guards trained like watchdogs, they wouldn’t waste manpower guarding scientists who are just mixing test tubes. Something’s off. Something’s hidden."

He descended back to the lower floor, prowling quietly through the dim corridors. Just as frustration threatened to claw at him again, a faint sound pricked his ears—murmurs.

Two figures in white lab coats walked ahead, their voices low but hurried. Hunter stilled, pressing against the wall, listening.

"Is the new batch coming today?" asked the first one. His tone carried an edge of excitement.

"Hopefully," the second replied. "If the shipment arrives on time. We’re so close—our master says this is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for."

The first one chuckled darkly, lowering his voice. "If this experiment gives a positive result... then our master won’t just control a country. He’ll rule the world."

Both men exchanged a laugh, quiet but laced with a malice that sent a cold shiver down Hunter’s spine.

He touched his earpiece lightly, whispering, "Knight... are they new? This is the first time I’m seeing them. I’ve kept track of the usual research team—those who come out for meals from the virus lab. But these two? Never seen their faces."

Knight hummed thoughtfully. "New players, then. Or plants. Either way, watch your step. And Hunter—don’t let them spot you. You’re good, but if they sniff you out, it’s game over."

Hunter narrowed his gaze, trailing the two men at a careful distance. They walked deeper into the corridor, whispering too softly for him to catch every word, but their body language told him enough—the way they leaned in close, the way their eyes gleamed with barely concealed malice.

"’New batch,’" Hunter muttered under his breath. "What the hell are they talking about?"

Knight’s voice was low, tense now. "Find out. Whatever they mean by ’new batch’... it’s not going to be good."

Hunter’s jaw tightened. He wanted to move closer, but the corridor was open, with no alcoves or shadows to conceal him. Too risky. For now, all he could do was follow—and wait.

Suddenly Hunter’s earpiece crackled with Knight’s urgent whisper.

"Someone’s coming... I think this is the batch they mentioned."

Hunter immediately shifted position, moving to the shadows near a pillar for cover. Two headlights pierced through the darkness of the villa’s gate as two vehicles approached.

One was a black, reinforced SUV filled with armed guards and staff. The other, a large carrier truck, its steel frame rattling faintly as if the cargo inside wasn’t quite stable.

At the gate, the guards performed a thorough inspection. Flashlights scanned every inch of the vehicles, sniffer dogs prowled around, and documents were checked with military precision. After a few tense minutes, the gates finally creaked open, granting the convoy entry.

"The security is tighter than a damn fortress," Hunter muttered under his breath.

"Which means whatever’s inside that truck isn’t ordinary," Knight replied, his voice calm but edged with tension.

Not long after, the two scientists Hunter had overheard earlier suddenly received a message.

They both pulled out their phones, glanced quickly at the screens, then exchanged a knowing look before tucking them away.

Without hesitation, they rushed toward the entrance, their hurried steps echoing against the stone floor.

"Hunter, follow them," Knight instructed.

"Already on it," Hunter murmured, slipping into their wake, careful to maintain distance.

At the entrance, the scientists immediately lowered their heads and bowed deeply to an old man who stood waiting before the carrier truck.

Hunter froze, his eyes narrowing. The man radiated authority—the kind earned through both intellect and cruelty.

He wore a pristine white lab coat adorned with distinctive badges, each symbolizing rank and recognition in fields Hunter could only guess at.

His posture was straight, hands clasped behind his back, exuding an air of quiet menace.

His eyes—sharp, predatory—swept over the gathering.

A glint of malice shimmered in their depths. His beard was scruffy, uneven, as though grooming was a secondary thought.

Half his head was bald, the remaining hair combed back in thin streaks that made his features appear even harsher.

"Professor," the two scientists greeted in unison, voices tinged with reverence.