7 Chapter 7: She Must Pay the Price

Everyone was indeed completely still.

They all turned their heads, frozen by the scene before them.

A group of fully armed men, each holding a menacing handgun, suddenly emerged like a raging flood, pointing their weapons at everyone in the room.

"What are you doing here!" The man leading them had a dashing demeanor, with eyebrows stern and eyes as cold as ice, exuding an intimidating aura.

"I, we, I..." Mrs. Talkington, known for her eloquence, was terrified by the sight of real guns and bullets.

Mr. Talkington, who had seen his fair share of chaos, immediately recognized the uniformed men with well-equipped weapons as some sort of special task force members. He quickly stepped forward with a friendly smile, "Hello, I am Philanthropist..."

"I don't care who you are!" The man leading interrupted arrogantly, "We are on duty here. Everyone else must leave immediately! If not, you'll be arrested for obstructing official business!"

The first to obey orders was surprisingly Victoria.

No, to be precise, she had positioned herself by the door when these men intruded. At the words of the man, she instantly, like the wind, disappeared.

The events unfolded so quickly that no one in the Talkington family noticed what had happened.

They were all shocked and terrified, too preoccupied to pay attention to what Victoria was doing.

Although the man in charge noticed Victoria's exit, he grew annoyed when he saw the others still standing in shock, especially the two women who looked terrified. "What are you doing! Are you waiting for me to fire a warning shot! Get out!"

Mr. Talkington and his son, scrambling and bowing, pointed Mrs. Talkington and Penelope Talkington towards the door, even stumbling over the severed hand of a young man named Wang.

Wang let out a pig-like shriek before the barrel of a gun was immediately pointed at his forehead.

"What are you yelling for!" One of the men barked at him, as if interrogating a criminal.

Wang's pain was stuck in his throat. His face turned the color of a liver, and he stammered, "I, I am Wang..."

"Get out!"

Within moments, everyone had clumsily evacuated from the Presidential Suite.

Once the leader of the men heard the silence outside, he picked up his walkie-talkie and softly asked, "Boss, where are you?"

Just as his question finished, the code lock on the closet door broke with a click and fell to the floor.

The closet door swung open. Hank Clegg, in his neat coat and long legs, stepped out. At this moment, the ordinary closet seemed like a palace gate opening for a king. He emerged, his eyebrows cold and stern— a king ascending his throne.

The facial expression of the leading man softened into respect, and he moved a step forward, presenting a standard military salute and a small box, "Boss, your antidote has arrived."

"No need," said Hank Clegg coldly. He dismissed the box with a glance and walked past his comrades.

"No need?" The leading man stood puzzled. The urgency on the phone earlier indicated a desperate need for the antidote, yet now it was declined.

"Logan Franklin!" Suddenly, Hank Clegg's voice resonated with steel-like authority from up front.

"Here!" The leading man immediately stood at the ready.

"Why was the antidote not delivered on time?" Hank Clegg's voice carried the weight of the death sentence.

"We were ambushed on the way and delayed." Logan Franklin was extremely clear about his boss's style, and he replied succinctly.

"Analyze the time, location, and cause of the delay. Submit a report to me before six o'clock today. If not, I will charge you with neglect of duty." Hank Clegg was known for his toughness and severity towards his subordinates. However, his iron discipline and training allowed him to triumph over the most terrifying criminal forces.

The turn of the events this evening had a lot to do with Logan's late delivery of the antidote. Hank Clegg needed a reasonable explanation, or Logan would bear the consequences.

He moved forward a few steps before pausing, "Also, look into Talkington's youngest daughter. She is preparing to study in Paris. Report all her information to me."

"Yes!" Logan stood upright once more.

At dawn, at the airport.

Victoria, carrying her luggage, ran like a squirrel chasing acorns.

The flight to Paris was scheduled for the early morning. Fortunately, her larger suitcases had already been shipped ahead of time. Only this small suitcase was kept at the airport, waiting for the coming of age ceremony to be over so she could collect it and board the flight.

After all that had just happened, she was the first to run away, hop in a taxi to the airport. The flight was about to take off; if she missed this one, the Talkingtons would surely take her back and continue to exploit her.

Earth was too dangerous. If possible, Victoria would sell everything she owned to buy a ticket to Mars.

Finally, she boarded the plane and found her window seat.

Half an hour later, the plane's door closed, and it began to ascend into the sky.

Dawn began to break; rays of golden light burst through the clouds, casting a shimmering glow on Victoria's clear eyes, illuminating her porcelain-like face.

Paris, here I come. M Country, goodbye.

Farewell to my unbearable past...

From now on, I will enjoy a new life and a beautiful life.

All the hardships and difficulties of the past decade and more were left behind in the deep sky as the plane soared...

...

Wait! Something feels wrong. Did I forget something?

Victoria bit her finger. Leaving the hotel, it seemed she had forgotten something important?

She considered for a long time—the expressions of the Talkingtons, her liberation from misery, her upcoming wonderful life ... But she forgot to unlock the closet before leaving!

Victoria tried hard to remember but finally decided—according to the great law of passwords, what you can't remember you shouldn't remember...

...

Hank Clegg sat in his office, flipping through some case files he had received recently.

Seen from eye level, his focused gaze, especially his sharp, hawk-like eyes, was entrancing. After a while, he put down the file, leaned back in his wide chair, and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

Somehow, he was restless today. The small figure kept flashing before his eyes...

He had considered her reputation and locked himself in the closet, yet she dared to lock them both inside and run away!

Hank Clegg thought of her holding his arm, begging him while saying "you won't regret this", his expression immediately turned fierce.

Humph, that little woman, once he caught her, he would make her pay for each word she uttered!