Chapter 1613 Dalton Yarwood
As Wynter stood to leave, the girls voiced concern for her safety. "It's too dangerous for you to go alone."
They were concerned because, from their perspective, Wynter looked around their age. Although they didn't know exactly how many people were outside, they weren't naïve. They could easily imagine that if even the guards were complicit, then the entire company was corrupt.
Wynter was somewhat taken aback. She'd carried out countless missions, and it was rare for anyone to worry about her safety. She figured this was the unique warmth shared only amongst women.
A small smile played on her lips as she tossed one of the guards to the side. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. You just need to wait a bit. In half an hour, someone will come for you. The code is 'A mighty river with wide waves."
The students' voices were laced with a mix of surprise and curiosity. It was an unusual code, after all.
Wynter chuckled. This phrase was a standard identifier used by the Special Unit to distinguish allies. "If someone says it, you can respond. If no one does, stay quiet until I return."
"Got it!" The girls nodded obediently, resolved to follow her instructions.
Wynter lowered her gaze to Santiago, who was barely conscious, lying on the floor and hauled him up. "Now then, I need you to put on a little show with me. As the 'goods,' I likely have a serial number. You're going to take me to the registration."
Santiago, wincing from a broken rib and barely able to speak, felt Wynter's grip tightening around his throat. His eyes went wide in fear, and he nodded vigorously.
Down below, chaos was unfolding, but those on the top floor were still blissfully unaware.
No matter where you looked, the place looked like an ordinary office. But when a hidden door opened, the contrast was stark. Inside, an opulent hall unfolded. It was richly decorated, with rows of seats meticulously aligned.
Wealthy guests were already seated and awaiting the proceedings. Each wore half-masks shaped like animals, concealing their identities.
Here, these code names were a safeguard to ensure no one could get investigated. None of them truly knew each other outside these walls, and inquiries about anyone's real identity were strictly forbidden.
Violating this unspoken law would result in immediate expulsion. Within these walls, the rules were ironclad.
If these patrons wanted a long life, youth, vitality all could be bought here, so long as one's fortune spoke louder than their presence.
Some exchanged idle, hushed words, their gazes hungry with anticipation. In the dimmer corners, newer buyers sat quietly, half-masks in place with cold, greedy eyes peering out. They murmured with the auctioneer through earpieces, exchanging last-minute details.
Among these attendees sat the newly arrived "Tiger", Hozier. He was desperate, his every nerve attuned to the need for survival. He just needed one vibrant, healthy heart, and all his problems would disappear!
Everyone was curious about the true identities behind the masks, but at that moment, they merely raised their glasses, allowing silence to speak for them.
No one noticed that one person among them was an imposter-though everything about him fit seamlessly with the environment.
Dalton was masked and dressed in black, with a dark feather resting on his shoulder. His long legs, narrow waist, and poised stance gave him an effortlessly striking presence, even amid the shadows.
"A new face?" A woman in a red gown, wearing a fox mask, approached him. Her gaze lingered, inspecting him from head to toe, eyes glinting with curiosity. "I've never seen you here before. Are you from out of town?"
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