?<strong>Chapter 664:</strong>


    From the corner of her eye, she saw Verruckt, and her thoughts wandered, wondering why he had made such a decision.


    Lost in thought, she watched as Rowan, once so arrogant, was dragged away, his cries soon drowned by the rustling of fabric in the corridor. No one dared to look up.


    More pitiful cries echoed through the hall, their sorrowful melody seeping into the air.


    Room 9. It was a ughterhouse — severed limbs, bloodied flesh, a macabre disy of violence.


    Verruckt, sensing a presence, lowered his gaze and met Allison’s eyes. A small, dangerous narrowing of his eyes sent a chill down her spine.


    Then his cold voice reached her ears. “Come here.”


    Allison stiffened, knowing themand was for her.


    “Yes… Sir…”


    She approached, her movements slow and deliberate, pretending to be intimidated, keeping her head down. But her mind was far from her outward performance. It was consumed by the image of the scar on Verruckt’s neck — a nted cross, just like the one she had once carried.


    As a child, she had been confined to a secret, isted experimental facility. The scar was a remnant of that dark time. It was her master who had rescued her, helping to remove the scars.


    She remembered his words. “Allison, I’m sorry you had to go through this. Don’t me your mother. She had her reasons. As for theb, I’ll make sure it’s destroyed.”


    Back then, in a haze of pain and confusion, she watched as her master treated her scars. At first, it had been just a long incision, made for the sake of drug experiments. But as the wounds healed, another incision was made, crisscrossing the first. The repeated cutting left a scar, an ugly, nted cross visible from afar.


    Could Verruckt have been a test subject on that ind too?


    Her thoughts began to flood with memories of the ind. There had been many children. Allison was the first, subject 001. The others had been numbered in sequence. But in just a few days, most of the children had been eliminated.


    She remembered the boy she had fought alongside — subject 005. His white hair stood out, but she couldn’t remember if his eyes had been red.


    Lost in those memories, she barely heard Verruckt’s voice above her. “What’s your name?”


    Allison had memorized her false identity, and without hesitation, she answered, “Alice.”


    “New here?”


    “Yes.”


    Verruckt scrutinized her, his gaze sharp, before he suddenlymanded, “Lift your head.” He studied her from above.


    Allison pretended to cower, raising her head slightly but keeping her eyes down, as if terrified.


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