Chapter 15 Impersonate

The warm, idyllic memories of childhood clashed violently with Matthew's ruthless, blood-curdling shouts, pulling Liam's mind into a brutal tug-of-war. A sharp, searing pain exploded in his head.

— Inside the laboratory.

Matthew swung his arm once more, landing another resounding slap across Liam's face. "Hit me back! Come on! I'm standing right here, dismembering them one by one before your very eyes—what can you do about it?! You pathetic coward who won't even dare to face me!"

The words had barely fallen when Liam, lying motionless in the neuro-link chamber, suddenly lifted his right arm and clamped his fingers tightly around the side of Matthew's thigh.

Ding!

The incessant alarm from the neural interface ceased abruptly. A green light flickered on—the unmistakable sign that Liam had resurfaced from his deep subconscious state.

"Hah!"

Professor Finn, who had been standing beside the chamber, exhaled deeply in relief. "He's back. He's awake."

"Damn," Matthew grumbled, flexing his aching fingers. "My hand's sore as hell—this kid owes me a meal. I just saved his damn life." He wiped the sweat from his brow before looking down at Liam's still-clenched hand. "Let go already, you almost—"

Before he could finish, he suddenly felt Liam's grip tighten—a deliberate squeeze, as if testing his presence, as if anchoring himself back to reality.

And then—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The alarm blared to life again. The green light flickered out. Red replaced it.

Professor Finn's face twisted in disbelief. "What the hell is happening?!" His sharp gaze darted between the neuro-interface and Liam's contorted expression. "He's going back under?!"

"Yes, he's sinking again," a nearby technician confirmed anxiously. "This isn't random—something is pulling him back in. His consciousness barely resurfaced before it was forcefully dragged into the depths again."

Neuroscientists had long studied the perplexing condition of comatose patients, analyzing their brainwave activity, cardiac rhythms, pulse variations, and even the subtle movements of their eyelids. Over time, they had formed a theory—one neither proven nor refuted—that some comatose individuals remained unconscious by choice.

They weren't trapped.

They were hiding.

Their minds had retreated into memory or dream states, deliberately avoiding the cruel weight of reality.

And now, it was happening to Liam.

Something—or someone—was keeping him inside.

For the academy, a freshman falling into a vegetative state while using its neural interface equipment was an incident of grave consequence, one they could not evade responsibility for. More critically, Liam was already a figure of considerable controversy.

If word of this leaked, Ravenwick Theological Seminary would be the first to face public scrutiny, forced to disclose sensitive information to the outside world. Beyond that, the institution would suffer severe reputational damage.

The professors, researchers, and staff within the laboratory worked tirelessly, their urgency palpable—none more so than Professor Finn, who turned sharply and barked, "Summon the expert team! Verify Liam's neural activity within Infinity Haven. And bring me my neural interface—I'm going in!"

As the laboratory hummed with frantic movement, Matthew quietly stepped away from the connection chamber, retreating into a shadowed corner, his mind working at a breakneck pace.

Liam had squeezed his leg—twice.

What did that mean?

To an ordinary person, it might have seemed inconsequential. But Matthew? He was no ordinary man. A seasoned investigator, a specialist who had clawed his way up from the trenches of law enforcement.

If Liam's first grasp had been a mere reflex, an instinctive response driven by overwhelming emotion—then what about the deliberate second and third squeezes?

That meant Liam's consciousness had, however briefly, resurfaced. He had severed from the neural link for a fleeting moment. And he must have recognized Matthew's voice—after all, sound was unmistakable.

But if he had returned—why had he gone back in?

That was beyond dangerous.

Matthew's pupils contracted sharply. His mind flashed to the night of the black-clad assailant, the intricate array of memory-extraction devices that had been prepared specifically for Liam.

Something was wrong.

Suddenly snapping out of his thoughts, Matthew rushed toward the doorway, his urgency barely contained. He turned to a nearby staff member and barked, "Quick, go call—"

The technician paused, frowning. "Call who?"

Matthew hesitated. His lips parted, words poised on the tip of his tongue—then, just as abruptly, he swallowed them back down.

"…Forget it."

The staff member gave him an odd glance but didn't press further. Without another word, they turned and hurried into the lab, rejoining the frenzied efforts to assist Professor Finn.

Matthew lingered at the threshold, his gaze sweeping over the twenty-odd people in the lab, his mind churning with calculations.

His instincts, sharpened by years in the field, screamed mistrust.

He scanned the room—watching, waiting, assessing.

And then, he made a decision.

Matthew stepped out of the lab, swiftly activating his wrist communicator and dialing a number.

The first attempt—rejected.

He redialed. This time, the call rang, but no one picked up.

A few moments later, a message flashed across his interface, short and to the point:

"I'm in a meeting."

…

Inside Infinity Haven

As Daniel observed Liam's memories unfold, he asked in a hushed, measured tone, "Can you still hold on? We can take a break if you need to."

Liam's voice was heavy with sorrow, laden with an overwhelming sense of regret. "It's only when we grow up that we realize… how much we owe our parents."

Daniel exhaled softly. "Memories have a way of ensnaring us in their warmth. Steady yourself… and savor this moment."

Liam offered no reply, his presence dissolving further into the depths of recollection.

…

At the entrance of the laboratory

Matthew disabled his communicator's holographic display, leaning casually against the wall as he initiated a silent exchange.

"Daniel, don't try to bring Liam back just yet." His tone was low, calculated. "I believe his brief moment of consciousness earlier was meant to send me a signal. He emerged… then reentered voluntarily. He's stalling for time. Do you understand?"

…

Inside the Doctoral Research Wing—Conference Hall

Daniel, who had been presiding over the meeting, abruptly rose to his feet. "Excuse me, I need to step out for a moment. Please continue."

The others nodded in acknowledgment, allowing him to slip out through the back of the panelist's podium. He walked briskly into a private lounge, sealing the door behind him.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked without hesitation.

"Deploy security to the lab immediately," Matthew instructed, his voice clipped. "No commotion. Have them wait outside for my signal."

"Understood."

"Also, bring in network security specialists. Equip them with the necessary tools to probe the academy's independent Infinity Haven database. Focus on the third-floor lab—trace any currently active anomalies. Identify and isolate the rogue account. Shut. It. Down."

Daniel's expression darkened. "You're saying…?"

"No doubt about it—someone is inside, leading Liam deeper."** Matthew paused, his mind racing. "Whoever it is, they're impersonating either you or me. Because no one else would earn Liam's trust."

A beat of silence.

Then, Daniel's response came swift and decisive. "Understood. I'll take care of it—right now."

"Remember, only bring in people you can trust!" Matthew reminded sharply. "If you're unsure about anyone, don't involve the network security center staff. Time is of the essence, but we can't risk alarming our target."

"Wait for my signal."

"Understood."

With that, their conversation ended. Daniel stood in the lounge, his mind racing. After a brief moment of contemplation, he swiftly dialed the number of Lillian, the vice president of the student council.

"Hello, Professor!"

"Among this year's freshmen, are there any who have joined the network security club?" Daniel asked without preamble.

"Yes, there are—seven or eight students have already signed up. Why do you ask, Professor?"

"How skilled are they?"

"Top-tier, of course. If they weren't exceptional, our academy wouldn't have recruited them in the first place."

"I don't want upperclassmen. No one whose identity is unclear, no one with an unknown background. Only those you personally trust. Gather a few of them and head directly to my lab. I have an urgent task for you."

"Understood, Professor!"

Two minutes later

Grace, lounging in her dorm, absentmindedly snacking while watching a documentary, found herself abruptly yanked away by Lillian. Two other tech-savvy male students hurried along with them.

"What's going on?" Grace asked breathlessly as she jogged to keep up.

"My professor has an assignment for us—move faster!" Lillian urged.

At the entrance of the laboratory,Matthew stood with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze sweeping the room, scrutinizing every individual's expression with a keen, investigative eye.

…

Five minutes later

Lillian, Grace, and the others arrived at Daniel's laboratory, only to find that several of his graduate students were already setting up an array of advanced electronic equipment.

"What's the situation?" Lillian panted, catching her breath.

Daniel strode in from the corridor, his expression grave. He turned to Grace and the newcomers, his voice carrying an unmistakable urgency:

"If I grant you access to the academy's independent database within Infinity Haven—give you admin accounts but no passwords—can you bypass the security layers and track down any anomalous active accounts?"

Grace raised her hand almost immediately, her expression deadpan.

"Professor, I must report that I cannot."

A beat of silence.

"Because that would be illegal," she added matter-of-factly. "And would likely land me in prison."

Daniel cast a glance at her and stated calmly, "This has been authorized by the academy. We will also notify Lumora Technologies' operations division in Velmora to ensure there are no complications."

Grace adjusted her black-framed glasses, her response concise and unwavering. "Then we can absolutely obliterate their security."

"Less talk, more action!" Daniel waved a hand, signaling them to begin.

Without hesitation, the three freshmen seated themselves at the control console, swiftly connecting three sets of data cables to Ravenwick Theological Seminary's independent database within Infinity Haven.

Grace removed her wristwatch phone, linking a thin data cable to the terminal computer. Following the credentials Daniel provided, she entered a series of administrator accounts—minus the passwords.

Why didn't Daniel simply provide the passwords? Technically, with his rank, he could have coordinated with the academy to obtain them from the network security division. While these credentials had limited authority—incapable of modifying any Infinity Haven data and only useful for oversight and reporting—they would have granted the fastest access to tracking anomalous logins.

But Matthew's earlier warning had struck a nerve—unreliable individuals could not be trusted. Who knew if there was a mole lurking within the network security division? If word got out, their only opportunity would be lost.

Thus, Daniel chose to bypass protocol entirely, assembling his own team to hack into the academy's administrative accounts. The priority was clear—lock onto the rogue entity first, deal with the consequences later.

…

Time was slipping away.

While Daniel and his team conducted their investigation, Matthew was deep in thought, meticulously considering every possible location within the academy where someone could connect to a neural interface and access Infinity Haven.

He was certain of one thing—whoever was manipulating Liam was hiding somewhere within the academy, secluded in an unnoticed corner, operating in the shadows.

Inside Infinity Haven.

Liam sat cross-legged on the third floor of the virtual laboratory, his face flushed, his entire body drenched in sweat. He was forcing himself to relive the gruesome details of Sophia slaughtering his family, deliberately stoking his own fury, pushing his emotions to the brink of instability.

Yet, there was no response from the outside world. Matthew had not struck him again…

He must have figured it out by now, right?

Otherwise, for a so-called seasoned investigator, this case would be an utter disgrace…