Chapter 1195:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

Claire stared at the surveillance screen, her nails digging into her palms. Her eyes locked onto the tall figure below, her expression shifting from thrill to doubt.

“Something’s off,” she muttered, then snapped, “Aldrin, check him!”

A broad man in a half-face mask stormed out, pushing through the basement door and crossing the courtyard toward Rodger. In the pouring rain, the two men stood face to face.

Aldrin tore open Rodger’s collar, his thumb pressing hard into Rodger’s Adam’s apple, then exposing a small cinnabar mole. After confirming it was no disguise, he drew a dagger from his waist and used its tip to flick open Rodger’s cufflinks.

“Turn around!” Aldrin barked.

Rodger spread his arms calmly, his soaked trench coat snapping in the storm. The dagger sliced through the fabric along his back, revealing a landscape of scars that sent the live chat into a frenzy.

“Whoa — those scars are real!” one viewer typed.

“Grenade shrapnel from that mission three years ago,” another added.

“No doubt — it’s him!”

Claire’s breath quickened as she studied the rain-washed scars on the screen. She snatched the walkie-talkie.

“Toss everything metal into the acid pool!”

In the corner of the courtyard, the acid pool hissed and bubbled. Rodger’s watch, belt buckle, and wedding ring dissolved into green vapor.

“Now crawl to me,” Claire’s voice blared through the loudspeaker. “Otherwise, I’ll cut off Kaelyn’s piano-playing fingers.”

𝖡𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆
Rain poured down in sheets as Rodger sank to his knees, mud splattering across his fine suit. Yet when he raised his head, his piercing eyes remained as sharp as ever.

The livestream paused for a heartbeat. Then a comment flashed across the screen: “Whoa, that’s Rodger Barnett!”

In the basement, Kaelyn thrashed against her iron chains. Tears mingled with blood and pooled on the cold floor. She had never seen Rodger yield — not even when bullets had once torn through his chest.

Claire’s lips curled into a pleased grin. She reached out and tapped the door control. “Well done. I’m impressed. Now, step right up to my little revenge party.”

The iron door creaked open with a heavy groan. As Rodger crossed the threshold, the air grew thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder.

Beneath a faint glow, Kaelyn sat bound to a chair, her face pale and streaked with blood. Her lips lifted slightly the moment she saw him.

Their eyes locked — no sobs, no wails, just a quiet smile blooming like a flower in the dark, stronger than any spoken vow. Rodger’s throat tightened, emotions swirling in his gaze. He gave a small nod, as if whispering, “I’m here. You’re safe.”

From the shadows, Claire’s silver mask glinted coldly. Watching the scene, she burst into a sharp, maniacal laugh that echoed through the confined space, eerie and spine-chilling.

“How sweet,” she mocked, raising her hand. The dark barrel of her gun pressed against Kaelyn’s temple. “Rodger, you’ve arrived at last.”

Rodger’s eyes moved from Kaelyn to Claire, his voice steady as stone. “Let her go. I’m the one you want.”

“Let her go?” Claire tilted her head, madness flashing in her eyes. “Fine — then hit that button.” She pointed to a switch on the wall. “Seal the door, and let’s have a real catch-up.”

Rodger didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room and pressed the button with steady fingers. Gears rumbled, and the iron door slid shut, snuffing out the last sliver of outside light.

The livestream chat erupted in a frenzy.

“It’s done — the door’s closed!”

“Is Claire planning a showdown with Rodger?”

“The Barnett legacy ends today!”

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