NovelEnglishThe night was chaos incarnate.
Maja couldn't fathom Patric's endgame, but the cacophony of blasts reverberating through the air was a clear indicator that he had
rigged explosives across multiple locations.
How much of Eric's memory had he assimilated? These bombs weren't bought; they were handcrafted by the man himself.
Eric was a prodigy with a penchant for the elemental, and for him, crafting bombs was a walk in the park.
Maja furrowed her brows, as she smelled the stench of blood undeniable in the air, mingling with the howls and wails that seemed
to ride the waves of the explosions.
Patric's move was merciless, not intended to spare anyone, even the Bradshaws.
She took a deep breath, but found the sulfur hanging heavy and acrid in the air made her stomach churn.
Patric held her close with one arm, while the other hastily wrapped a torn piece of cloth around his bleeding wound.
"Patric, where the hell are you taking me?" Maja's voice was tinged with a mix of fear and confusion.
Why stir up this hornet's nest?
If he wanted to get out, why not just team up with lan? After all, they had entered this mess together.
Why go to such lengths, planting bombs everywhere?
Was his plan to let lan die, to throw the Bradshaws into disarray, and to cause an uproar on Forbidden Island so as to make it
slipping away in the chaos?
And why take her along? If he had left her behind, he could already be in ssafe haven by now.
"Shut up!" Patric barked, as he hoisted her up and trudged forward.
The thick dust in the air choked him and made him cough a bit, and suddenly, faint footsteps caught his attention.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThen, a man's voice cut through the turmoil.
"Hand her over."
It was lan's voice.
Patric stiffened, half-convinced that he was hallucinating.
lan was supposed to be at the Bradshaws' tonight, where the bombs were the thickest; he should have been blown to smithereens.
How could he be here?
As the dust settled slightly, Patric could see the figure next to him clearly—it was indeed lan.
Dressed in a black cloak, lan wielded a gun with steely intent.
The bullet that had whizzed by earlier had been his doing.
Patric clutched Maja tighter, his face draining of color.
"Why are you here?"
With the number of bombs he'd set, there should've been no survivors from the Bradshaws.
Why was lan so damn lucky?
Without warning, lan fired, and the bullet stroke Patric in the shoulder.
Patric's grip failed, and Maja slipped from his arms.
lan caught her effortlessly.
Maja was still paralyzed, her lips quivering with unvoiced terror.
Patric, already wounded in the leg, now took a hit to the shoulder, but he felt no pain—all he did was fixing his eyes on lan with a
silent scrutiny.
lan frowned, as he recalled the moment they had entered Forbidden Island together; back then, Patric's eyes didn't harbor such
resentment.
What had happened in such a short span to make Patric hate him this much?
Holding Maja securely, lan commanded his men.
"Take him. We leave now to pick up Oliver Porter, and then it's off to the South District Mental Hospital on Outer Island."
"Understood, Mr. Raymond."
These were the forces mobilized by the head of the Porter family at lan's behest, part of his pact with Oliver.
He had promised to get Oliver off Forbidden Island.
Now with Inner Island in disarray and the Bradshaws nearly decimated, no one paid mind to lan's whereabouts. Everyone was
scrambling to investigate the night's explosions.
In the aftermath, Inner Island would be licking its wounds, and too preoccupied to concern itself with Outer Island affairs.
And for that, lan had Patric's machinations to thank.
Someone approached Patric and helped him to his feet, but Patric could only glare at lan, consumed with frustration.
He had planned everything perfectly for tonight, by successfully turning Timothy and trapping the so-called elder and lan at the
Bradshaws.
He had planted bombs all over Inner Island, but somewhere, somehow, it had all gone wrong.
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