Chapter 904:
Rylie scrolled through the list, her eyes sharp, until they paused on one particular entry. She read it slowly. “Klein Private Reserve?”
Nightingale explained, “From what I’ve gathered, Kailee plans to deliver a speech at the reserve, and the footage will be used to attract investors for animal protection projects. On the surface, everything seems perfectly noble.”
Rylie’s fingers began to tap lightly against the table, a soft, steady rhythm that echoed her thoughts.
Sensing the shift in her silence, Britton frowned. “What is it? Do you think there’s something wrong with this reserve? I’ve already checked their background and staff records. Everything appears clean.”
Rylie’s tone remained even, but her gaze sharpened. “I never said there was anything wrong. But it’s quite a coincidence that Storm stumbled upon that male lion, and now it’s being transferred to Klein Private Reserve. How exactly has their animal population been increasing? Can we access their live database?”
“Give me a second.” Nightingale’s fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of data streaming over her screen. “I’m cross-checking this year’s reports with past entries. No one really pays close attention to these records, so anomalies usually slip by unnoticed.”
The clatter of keys faded after a few tense seconds. Nightingale’s face drained of color as she stared at the figures generated by her algorithm. Her voice wavered when she finally spoke. “Rylie… I’ve got the numbers, but something’s not right.”
“Explain,” Rylie said quietly. Her eyes remained fixed on the glowing name Klein Private Reserve on the monitor. Her thumb traced the rim of her cup in slow, deliberate circles, a flicker of unease glinting beneath her calm exterior.
“I went through Klein Private Reserve’s last five years of public reports and accessed fragments of their internal records,” Nightingale began, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Then I cross-checked everything against their promotional videos and official statements.” She hesitated, her brows furrowing. “The numbers don’t add up. They report taking in large numbers of animals every year, particularly herbivores and rescued predators. But satellite imagery and the internal data I found show something completely different. The animal population hasn’t grown at all. In some years, it’s even dropped without explanation.”
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Britton’s expression hardened as he leaned in. “What could cause that? Natural deaths, maybe? Or migration?”
To verify Britton’s suspicions, Nightingale dug deeper, compiled her findings, and shared them in their encrypted group chat.
“I think the scope of their study is too limited,” she said. “There shouldn’t be a mass migration. The data they released doesn’t match the natural death rate or the predation patterns I’ve analyzed.”
She pulled up a series of newspaper clippings and stills from old promotional videos. “Look here. Two years ago, their promo video claimed they’d successfully brought in twelve adult zebras and several calves. But in the follow-up documentary, fewer than half appear on record. The same thing is happening with antelopes, wildebeests, and even smaller carnivores.”
Storm gave a low whistle in the chat. “So what’s going on? Have the animals turned invisible? Or did a giant black hole suddenly open in that reserve?”
Rylie’s eyes narrowed. “Do you see any kind of pattern? Maybe the numbers drop after specific intervals?”
Nightingale caught on immediately. “I’m comparing Kailee’s field notes with timelines from verified wildlife agencies. It’ll take a while, but I think I see where this is going. This place might be a private hunting ground for the elite. The animals they ‘rescue’ could be the very ones they sell—or kill.”
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