Chapter -11 Close to getting caught

By a hair's breadth, Dean and Nanny emerged from the underground. Instantly, Dean's voice echoed through the room.

"That girl is indeed strong. Her organs are in perfect condition. She's ready for a new dose already," he stated with eerie satisfaction. "We must act quickly—we wouldn't want to disappoint such a poor soul. She deserves our newly developed, stronger dose."

Nanny followed closely behind. "Yes, sir. We're reaching our goal soon," she agreed, but then abruptly stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes had locked onto the table.

The pendant lay on the floor.

A flicker of suspicion crossed her face as she immediately alerted Dean. His expression darkened for a brief moment before he scoffed.

"There's no way anyone could have gotten inside. Security is airtight," he assured her. "You must have dropped it in your hurry."

Despite his words, a trace of doubt lingered. To be certain, he gave a sharp order.

"Turn on the CCTV monitors."

Seon's breath hitched. He pressed his ear against the door, heart pounding in his chest. The room wasn't soundproof, allowing him to catch every word. As the monitors flickered to life, Dean carefully reviewed the footage of the office surroundings.

Seon exhaled silently. He knew there were no cameras inside—but what about the underground?

Fear clawed at his insides. In his rush, he hadn't taken note of whether cameras were installed below. He listened intently, every second stretching into eternity.

Finally, Dean leaned back with a smirk. "See? Nothing. No one can enter the underground." His tone carried absolute certainty. "Those steps are designed to trap intruders. Their pattern changes every day—one day, they'll illuminate; the next, they'll be blank; another, they'll shift into something entirely different. Other than me, no one can step foot inside. A single misstep, and they'll be electrocuted and burned to ashes within seconds."

He turned away, already moving on. "We should begin adjusting the doses for the others as well. The young master is arriving soon. We should surprise him… with our golden pill."

Hearing their conversation, Seon's heart lurched. A mixture of fear and exhilaration coursed through him. He had been reckless—there was no denying that. But in the end, it was worth the risk. He had uncovered valuable information.

Steadying his breathing, he stopped listening and turned toward the ventilator. Without hesitation, he crawled inside. The narrow space was designed for children around seven years old, yet his thin frame allowed him to slip through effortlessly. He moved naturally, as if he had done this countless times before.

After what felt like an eternity of crawling, he finally reached his destination. Exhaustion settled over him like a heavy blanket, and this time, when he closed his eyes, he genuinely fell asleep.

Seon woke when the others around him began to stir. The emotional toll of the past day had drained him, but even that short rest had helped. The weight in his chest felt lighter.

By the time the clock struck five, he joined the others for evening prayers, keeping up his usual act—dazed and detached. Later, as he often did, he sneaked off to grab something to eat before heading to bed with the rest at 7:30 PM.

Lying in the dark, he began processing everything he had learned. Piece by piece, he mentally mapped out the key details, arranging them into something coherent. His thoughts swirled until exhaustion overtook him once more.

For the first time in a long while, Seon woke up feeling refreshed.

Seon planned vigorously, breaking down every detail in his mind. Bit by bit, he sorted through the information and reached a conclusion—Blue Hydves and Silent Knights were enemies. The village maps he had seen marked the locations where Blue Hydves were hiding. This knowledge could be a powerful bargaining tool for his security.

But he had no intention of getting caught between the two groups. He didn't know the Silent Knights, and aligning with them blindly was too dangerous. The real question was how and when he would use this information—he needed a plan, one that left no trace of his involvement.

For now, he decided against writing everything down. Instead, he focused on the maps—those, at least, he could safely recreate from memory.

The next day, Seon ventured outside and bought paper and pens with the money he had earned from running errands for the butcher. He had made sure the butcher had no ties to either group before choosing to work for him. Listening to the man's usual nagging, Seon endured it long enough to purchase what he needed.

Once back in his room, he carefully began sketching the maps—detailed enough to be useful but abstract enough to protect himself. As he worked, he noticed the orphanage growing busier. More movement. More disappearances.

Every day, children vanished.

Seon remained calm, his emotions numbed by necessity. He had long accepted that survival meant detachment.

Then, he overheard something chilling.

The day after tomorrow, they were going to burn all the failed subjects.

Their organs were poisoned, making them useless for further experiments. To cover up their failures before the arrival of their wealthy master, the caretakers planned to stage a fire accident—one that would kill fifteen children.

Seon was one of them.

For a fleeting moment, he considered warning the others. But reality struck just as quickly—they wouldn't understand. They were too dazed, too lost. Even if he tried, they wouldn't escape.

So he made a different choice.

He crafted a perfect escape plan.

But before leaving, he needed to ensure that someone knew about Blue Hydves. The Silent Knights were the obvious choice, and among them, he selected the mart worker—the only one familiar to him.

In the early morning, avoiding every watchful eye, Seon carefully stuffed the maps and a letter inside a newspaper. It contained the locations of Blue Hydves. Then, acting quickly, he tossed the newspaper into the mart and ran.

No one saw him.

When the mart worker opened the bundle, everything would change.