CHAPTER 123: 123

The old man barely acknowledged them with a flick of his gaze.

Then, with a tone cold enough to silence the air around him, he gave his command.

"Open the carrier."

At once, the guards obeyed, moving to unseal the truck.

The metallic clanks of locks being undone echoed in the stillness of the night. Hunter tensed, his breath catching as the heavy doors began to creak open.

From his perch high in the trees, Knight muttered through the comms, voice tight with anticipation.

"Hunter... what do you see?"

But when the carrier finally opened, both men—Hunter hidden in the shadows and Knight watching through his scope—were struck silent by the sight before them.

They never imagined it would be humans.

As the heavy steel doors of the carrier creaked open, the stench of sweat, blood, and fear spilled into the night air, so pungent that even the guards instinctively covered their noses.

Inside, crammed together like livestock, were around thirty souls—fragile children no older than five clutching at each other with trembling hands, and weary old men and women whose hollow eyes spoke of a life already beaten out of them.

But what struck Hunter the most was the sight of the majority: teenagers and youths, their faces pale and drawn, most of them barely fifteen to twenty-five years old.

Their wrists were bruised raw from the ropes, ankles chained so tightly that each step seemed to tear into their skin.

Not a sound left their lips; they moved like shadows, their heads bowed, shoulders trembling, as though the very act of breathing might invite another blow.

Some were chained, some bruised, all trembling in silent terror.

Hunter’s throat tightened as the sight hit him like a punch to the gut.

His voice was barely above a whisper, yet laced with fury.

"So... they’re conducting human experiments here?"

From the earpiece, Knight’s voice was low and grim.

"Looks like it."

Hunter clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms. His pulse raced, rage bubbling dangerously beneath his calm exterior.

"We can’t just stand here, Knight. We have to save them. Now. Our boss would never—"

"Hunter." Knight’s voice cut through, steady but heavy. "Think."

"No!" Hunter hissed, his breathing uneven. His eyes didn’t leave the huddled captives.

A small boy clutched at an elderly woman’s sleeve, his lips trembling as he whispered something Hunter couldn’t hear.

The scene dragged him back—memories flashing like knives. The cages, the beatings, the endless nights where survival felt impossible.

He had been there once. And Luna... Luna had saved him. She had saved them both. She had given him a life when all he knew was death.

His vision blurred with anger.

"They’re doing the same thing to them... the same hell we went through!" His voice cracked, nearly breaking into a growl. "I can’t just—"

On the other end, Knight sighed softly, though Hunter could hear the weight in it. He understood.

He always understood.

"Hunter... I get it. Believe me, I do.

But we have to be practical. If we move now, we’ll blow our cover. Not just us, but everyone depending on us. That includes them."

Hunter bit his lip, chest heaving as he fought to rein in his fury.

Knight’s tone softened, but carried resolve.

"We will save them. I promise.

But not like this. First, we find the person we came for. Then... we burn this place to the ground."

Silence stretched between them for a long beat, the only sound the faint whimpers of the captives below. Hunter finally exhaled, though his hands still trembled.

"You’d better keep that promise, Knight," he muttered. "Because if we don’t... their blood will be on our hands too."

"...I know." Knight’s reply was quiet, resolute. "And that’s why we can’t fail."

Hunter forced himself to check his emotions, steadying his breathing. His voice came out low through the earpiece.

"...I’ll follow them."

Knight didn’t argue this time, only muttered, "Stay sharp. Don’t let your anger make you reckless."

"I know what I’m doing," Hunter replied, though his clenched jaw betrayed the storm beneath his calm façade.

The people—men, women, children, even the elderly—were bound cruelly with ropes and chains, like livestock being hauled to slaughter.

Their wrists were raw, their ankles scraped, and yet not a single sound escaped them.

No cries, no protests. They moved in a trembling line, heads bowed, as if their spirit had already been broken.

The guards yanked on the chains, dragging them forward without mercy. One boy stumbled, his knees scraping against the cold marble floor.

A guard barked and kicked him back onto his feet. The boy staggered forward silently, his lips pressed tight.

Hunter’s nails dug into his palms.

"...They’re treating them like animals." His voice trembled with restrained fury.

"Don’t lose focus," Knight reminded him, his tone firm. "Keep your eyes on the leader. That old man isn’t just a scientist.

Look at the badges on his coat—he’s high rank. If anyone knows what’s going on here, it’s him."

Hunter swallowed hard, forcing his gaze back onto the old man and his lackeys. They didn’t take the usual path toward the laboratories.

Instead, they turned abruptly down a side corridor, moving with practiced precision.

"Where are they taking them?" Hunter murmured under his breath, shadowing them carefully. "It’s not the first-floor labs..."

Knight hummed in thought. "Unusual. Labs are always upstairs or in the basement. Never near living quarters."

The group continued until they reached a wide passage leading toward the villa’s kitchens. Hunter frowned, his brows knitting in confusion.

"...The kitchen?" he whispered incredulously. "What are they trying to do—feed the lambs before killing them?"

His attempt at sarcasm fell bitter from his lips, twisting into disgust.

But the words died in his throat the very next second.

Because what he saw made his entire body stiffen. His pupils contracted, breath catching as realization dawned.

"...Knight," he whispered, almost choking on the words, "this... this isn’t a kitchen. It’s a façade."

Knight’s voice sharpened in his ear.

"What do you mean?"

Hunter pressed himself against the wall, watching as one of the scientists pushed aside a heavy shelf stacked with preserved jars and supplies.