?<strong>Chapter 697:</strong>


    “You’re right, so I need to prepare in advance.” Allison’s eyes darted to the door as her instincts screamed that time was slipping away.


    “Gordon, wipe the surveince from the break room—everything before and after the explosion.”


    Gordon hesitated, his doubt bleeding into the silence. “Fine. But should I send Ken? You’re in no shape to—”


    “No,” she cut him off. “And after this, we’re done talking for now. Cutmunications.”


    “Wait…Why?”


    “Verruckt is too smart, Gordon. If he picks up on even a whisper of this connection, it’s over.”


    She reached up, removing her contact lenses and clenching them in her fist alongside the vial of serum.


    “I’ll contact you once it’s over. Stay on the surveince. If you see anything suspicious, have Ken retreat immediately.”


    “But Allison—”


    Before Gordon could protest further, she powered off the earpiece and stuffed it into her pocket before stepping out of the cleaning supply room.


    Verruckt emerged from theb momentster, like a lead lion hunter nked by his subordinates. Then came the scream — a sharp, piercing cry from the break room that shattered the stillness. The apanying crash of something heavy hitting the floor sent a ripple through the security team.


    “Ahhh!”


    Like wolves scenting blood, the guards rushed toward the break room. Verruckt followed at a measured pace, his silence more unnerving than anymand he could bark.


    “If I’m not mistaken,” he said, “that scream came from the cleaner. Alice, isn’t it?”


    Jareth, always by his side, nodded grimly. “It should be.”


    Inside the break room, a cluster of researchers huddled around a young woman, hurriedly wrapping bandages around her arm. The metallic tang of antiseptic filled the air.


    “What’s going on here?” Verruckt bellowed.


    The researchers were startled, standing stiffly under his gaze. One of them, trembling, stammered, “Alice… she burned herself. We’re just… uh… helping her with the bandage.”


    “Burned herself?” Verruckt stepped closer, his sharp gaze locking onto Allison, who sat pale and visibly shaken. “Stand up.”


    “…Yes.”


    Slowly, she rose, cradling her injured arm. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to.”


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