CHAPTER 128: HUNTER’S ESCAPE PLANS!

In the next room, the sight turned his stomach. Dozens of captives were still trapped in tubes, their skin pale and paper-thin.

Heart monitors flickered with the faintest traces—some barely moving, some already flatlined.

Hunter fed them the pill as well, hoping against hope. But nothing changed. No spark. No movement. Their bodies remained still, far too broken to be saved.

His jaw tightened, but he kept moving. I can’t waste time on the dead. I need to save the living.

The section holding the newest captives was next. He slipped in and began untying restraints.

Among them, a frail boy gasped weakly, barely able to keep his head upright. Hunter took out a vial, tilting it carefully to the boy’s lips.

Within minutes, the boy’s breathing steadied, his trembling eased, and strength flowed back into his limbs.

But then the boy whimpered, shrinking away in fear. "Don’t beat me... please don’t beat me."

Hunter crouched to meet his eyes, voice low and firm. "No one’s going to hurt you. I’m here to save you—and the others too."

He pressed the vial into the boy’s hand. "Listen carefully. Feed one pill to each of them.

Whoever responds, bring them with you. Whoever doesn’t... leave them. Understand?"

The boy nodded shakily, tears brimming, and crawled toward the others.

Room by room, Hunter repeated the process. The frail stirred, children began to move, some whispering weakly, others too afraid to speak.

Each pill worked like a miracle on those with strength left to fight, but the ones who didn’t respond... Hunter knew better than to waste more time.

They couldn’t be saved.

That pill—Luna’s creation—works like magic, was unlike anything else in the underworld.

Specialized to flood the body with raw vitality, it was designed for mercenaries like them who lived in chaos, who needed to survive when survival was impossible.

Luna, fearing the worst, created this medicine as a safeguard against the dangers of their world.

She knew battles, traps, and betrayals could strike at any time.

So she entrusted each of her team with a vial, enough to last a lifetime, believing it might one day save them when nothing else could.

One pill could restore energy in moments, enough to carry someone out of hell itself.

And tonight, it was the only reason Hunter could carry the living out of this nightmare.

They quickly made the exit and went towards the spiral staircase which was the secret door they came in, there he saw the other members. He gave them a quick reassurance and tried to open the door.

His fingers moved without hesitation.

A sharp click followed as the lock disengaged—but he didn’t move, not until Knight’s voice came through the comm, calm and precise.

"Now."

Hunter slid through the opening, silent as smoke. His body flowed with the ease of a predator in his element. In his trail the people moved with him slowly and silently. He stationed them at the kitchen area beneath the shelf, a blind spot.

He darted behind a cluster of pipes, then melted into the shadow beneath a steel staircase just as two guards marched overhead.

Their radios crackled with frantic chatter:

"Search every wing."

"Master said no one leaves this floor."

"Find the intruder. Alive or dead."

Hunter’s lips curved into a faint smirk beneath the mask. If only they knew the ghost they were chasing was right beneath their boots.

He swiftly took them out and signaled the people to move with him.

He crept down the corridor, every sense tuned razor-sharp.

Twice, guards nearly turned his way, but Knight’s guidance pulled him clear—an open lab door here, a blind spot in the cameras there.

Finally, the mechanical door to the upper levels loomed ahead. But this time, two guards stood watch, rifles ready.

Hunter raised his hands, his voice calm and steady. "Master told me to get the vehicle ready. He wants the units moved to a different site."

The guards exchanged wary glances, but the uniform and badges Hunter wore bore the mark of the special team. One of them gave a nod. "Alright. Move them out."

They escorted him and the captives through a side passage toward the rear of the villa.

Under the dim glow of floodlights, a transport truck waited, its engine already rumbling.

The guards began loading the weak and trembling test subjects into the back.

One guard, suspicious by nature, held out a hand. "ID."

Hunter’s jaw tightened, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out the card of the researcher he had knocked out earlier.

The guard studied it for a moment, then handed it back with a grunt. "Looks fine."

Hunter let out a silent breath of relief.

But then—static flared across their radios. A clipped voice barked: *"Distress alert! Researcher found dead in the lower wing. ID number ***–27."

The guard holding Hunter’s ID froze. His eyes darted to the card in his hand, then to Hunter’s face.

Rage flared in his eyes as he snapped his rifle up. "This is the same ID! He’s not one of us—drop him!"

Before the shot could be fired, Hunter moved faster. His pistol was already in his hand. One clean shot—bang!—and the guard crumpled to the ground.

"Knight," Hunter barked into his comm, "I’ll draw them off. Get the people to safety!"

More alarms erupted. Red lights flashed across the compound as reinforcements poured in.

From the corner of his eye, Hunter saw movement—Knight, emerging from the shadows with the calm precision of a predator.

He lobbed two smoke grenades into the courtyard, and thick clouds swallowed the chaos.

"Move!" Knight commanded.

He slipped behind the wheel of the transport truck.

The engine roared, tires screeching as he drove hard toward the northern road, the rescued captives huddled in the back.

His course was already set—the river docks, where their escape boat waited.

Hunter sprinted to another vehicle, hotwired it in seconds, and peeled off toward the opposite side of the compound.

The elites saw the movement, their own engines roaring to life as they gave chase.

At that very moment, the old man and the three lead researchers emerged into the courtyard, the alarms painting their faces red.

The old man’s eyes narrowed as he spotted Hunter’s fleeing vehicle. Fury darkened his features.

He turned on the researchers, his voice like a whip. "He was right under your nose!"

Dr. Lopez lowered her head. "Master, we miscalculated. It won’t happen again."

The old man’s lips curled with disdain. "It already did." He spun toward his guards, voice thundering. "Catch him—alive or dead! He must not step off this island. Block every signal. Jam the frequencies—now!"

"Yes, Master!" the elites barked, scattering into action.

Engines roared, tires screamed, and vehicles surged after Hunter.

Behind the wheel, Hunter smirked, glancing at the flood of headlights closing in.