Nathan leaned back in the car seat, his fingers rolling the earrings between them, the metal glinting under the dusky light.
"What kind of earrings are these?" he murmured, puzzled by the intricate craftsmanship.
A rustle in the bushes interrupted his thoughts. Instinctively, he stepped out of the vehicle, eyes narrowing. The paralyzed goons were still sprawled out on the forest floor like discarded mannequins, their limbs limp, eyes blinking.
He scanned the ground—phones? Only the dead one had one… ringing.
Karen.
He canceled the call, coldly. Used the corpse's face for Face ID. The screen unlocked.
He tried calling out—nothing. No signal. A laugh erupted—low and mocking. Nathan's eyes snapped to the source.
"You think this is funny?" he snapped, and without hesitation, kicked the man hard in the ribs.
"Pathetic."
He tossed the phone on the ground and walked away, fists clenched, jaw tight.
Behind him, the paralyzed men whispered among themselves.
"How long do you think this will wear off?" Andre muttered, voice strained.
"Long enough for us to become the jungle's dinner," Kyle replied bitterly. "Hyenas. Maybe a lion or two…"
"I can't move a damn thing… Is this what it's like being dead? Just lying still while the world moves on without you?" Jake added, eyes staring into the canopy beside.
"You're an idiot," Kyle scoffed. "Even if we survive this, the boss… He'll finish the job."
"I'd rather not think about that," Andre sighed.
"Let's run," Jake said suddenly. "As long as we don't trigger the location device, maybe… maybe we stand a chance."
Andre snorted. "For thirty seconds, maybe."
"What do you mean?" Kyle asked, wary.
"You know the truth. The boss sees everything. When we joined, we signed our souls away. There's no 'out'."
"I wish Nathan had killed us," Andre muttered darkly.
"My thoughts exactly. Good people? Overrated trash," Kyle spat.
A long silence.
"Why're you so quiet?" Andre asked, turning his head as much as he could.
"Jake?" Kyle echoed.
Jake's voice came low, bitter. "Saving the blames. For ruining my life. Might as well sleep and wake up in hell."
Meanwhile, Vicky's plan failed. Her trap didn't work. She got caught.
"Well, well… what do we have here?" the guard sneered. "Little princess wandering off…"
Vicky froze in place, eyes wide, body trembling.
"Really? You ask questions now?" Reynold, the child, said calmly from the shadows.
He stepped forward. "Pull the trigger," he ordered, eyes locked on the guard.
Without hesitation, the man aimed at Vicky and fired.
But she wasn't there.
In a flash, she moved, dodged, and struck him with a brutal flurry of moves. He hit the ground—unconscious.
She stood panting, shocked by what she'd just done. Then she turned pale and puked on the floor.
Reynold clapped softly. "Brilliant. That was… brave."
But Vicky couldn't respond—her body was shaking, confused, afraid.
Elsewhere, Ruben stormed downstairs, fury etched into every step.
"I know you're hiding our agents," he snarled.
"Ruben," Loise began gently, "you have every right to be upset, but this time—"
"We're clean," Gabriel cut in, stepping forward.
"I'm not buying it," Ruben said, pulling out his gun and aiming it at the dog lying peacefully beside them.
"You can shoot me too, if you want. But we're no longer enemies of this country," Gabriel said firmly.
Loise pleaded, "Son, please… just tell us where the problem is."
Ruben's voice was low, but sharp as broken glass. "None of your business."
And just like that, he turned and left.
Back in the jungle, Nathan wandered aimlessly.
"How the hell did I even take this route?" he muttered, glancing at the unfamiliar terrain. But he kept walking, like a man searching for meaning in a labyrinth with no exit.
Back at the estate, Vicky sat on the floor, holding her knees. Her stomach had turned earlier—and now the mess lay splattered over one of Reynold's unopened gift boxes.
"I like you already," Reynold said with a playful smile. "Can you be my new guard?"
"I… I'm so sorry," Vicky stammered. "I ruined your gift…"
"It's okay. Dad says I'm not supposed to open them yet, anyway." Reynold shrugged. "You can have that one if you want."
"Oh… um… thanks. But I can't take it."
"Why not? Is it because I tried to kill you?" he asked, tilting his head with childlike innocence.
"You what?" Vicky's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm just… trained to protect myself. That's all."
Vicky blinked, her fear giving way to a weird admiration. "That's… wow. That's actually kind of awesome."
Reynold beamed. "Then accept my gift. So I know you understand me."
Vicky smiled faintly, but with purpose. "On one condition."