Chapter 1714:

“Just a minor injury,” Corrine replied nonchalantly.

The ambush had indeed come faster than she’d expected. She’d assumed the Garcia family would wait until she set foot in Pinetree City, not anticipating they’d be bold enough to strike in Lyhaton.

“Did you catch them?” Zeke’s tone was deceptively calm, but beneath the surface, it carried an unmistakable chill. “Keep them alive. We’ll make an example of them—for the Garcias and anyone else plotting.”

Corrine understood it well. “The perpetrator’s been detained. We should have answers soon.”

“Good,” Zeke replied. “I’ll reach out the moment anything new surfaces on my end.”

“Alright.”

“And hold off on coming to Pinetree City. For now, stay put.”

“I understand.”

After ending the call, Corrine immediately dialed Nate. The phone rang… and rang… and rang—no answer. She didn’t need to guess. She already knew what Nate was busy with.

True enough, Nate was far from idle.

He sat calmly in a cold, dim room, his gaze fixed on the blood-smeared man crumpled on the floor. “Start talking. Who sent you? How much were you paid? Who’s your contact in Lyhaton?”

The man glared up at him, eyes full of hate, but remained silent.

Nate didn’t move. He simply looked over at Saul, who stood nearby like a looming shadow.

Understanding the signal, Saul stepped forward and pressed his boot against the man’s head with slow, deliberate force. “Talk!”

Every journey starts at gαℓησν𝒆𝓁s․c𝗈𝗆

Still, the driver didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. As if he hadn’t heard a thing.

Nate’s lips curved ever so slightly, the barest trace of a smile ghosting across his face, but his volatile eyes swirled with stormy menace. “I wonder if your family is just as stubborn as you are.”

At that, a flicker of panic shattered the driver’s previously vacant stare. His voice, taut with desperation, cracked out, “If you’ve got a score to settle, settle it with me!”

Though he had long resigned himself to death, the moment his family was dragged into the equation, his hard-earned composure broke like a dam. Nate’s gaze swept over him like ice on skin—unmoved, detached, deadly. “That depends entirely on how helpful you choose to be.”

Time dragged like dripping molasses before the driver finally ground out a name through clenched teeth. “It… it’s the Garcia family…”

A low chuckle unfurled from Nate’s chest. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”

His words slithered through the silence—calm, deliberate, and serrated like a blade grazing raw nerve.

.

.

.