Chapter 24: Fully Prepared

Fletcher yanked Verak off the bed. "Go into the bathroom and stay there. Do not come out without my permission."

Verak walked into the bathroom, covering his face without a word.

Once the bathroom door was shut, Fletcher began searching every corner of the bedroom. From inside, Verak could clearly hear the sound of drawers being pulled open and cabinets being rummaged through. His gaze was icy as he stared at his own half-red, swollen face in the mirror.

*Splash.*

The faucet ran with cold water. He cupped his hands, wetted them, and pressed them against his face to soothe the burning pain and reduce the swelling as quickly as possible.

Three slaps had brought back every humiliation he had ever endured, further igniting the hatred and rage within a Verak whose temperament had already shifted during this period.

The man outside was a devil who would trample him underfoot at will, a man who had pushed him and his best friend into the abyss.

*Kill him!*
*Kill him!*
*He’s just an old man!*
*Just plunge a knife into his chest, and you will have avenged Nord and Dempsey!*
*Trample him underfoot, drive him like a dog, and throw him into the sewer to feed the rats!*

Having killed once before, Verak began to feel that murder was a simple way to resolve any problem.

As his facial expressions threatened to slip out of control and his fury began to consume his reason, he took a deep breath and plunged his head into the water-filled basin.

The freezing water stung his head. He opened his eyes wide underwater, his hands gripping the edge of the sink tightly.

*Endure.*
*Everything has only just begun; you cannot let all your hard work go to waste.*
*Killing him now serves no purpose. Wait. Wait just a little longer. Give yourself two more months.*

"Huff... huff..." Verak lifted his head, water streaming down his hair and cheeks, soaking his collar.

Looking into the mirror, his face transformed from a strained mask to a pitiful expression in the blink of an eye.

"Come out." After a long silence, Fletcher’s voice came from outside.

Verak pushed open the door and stepped out. He looked at Fletcher, who had left the bedroom in shambles, with a mix of confusion and fear. "Mr. Fletcher..."

"Clean up the bedroom." Fletcher brushed past Verak and into the bathroom to continue his search.

Verak walked slowly to the desk, rearranged the books, and closed the cabinets and drawers.

There were few places to hide anything in the bathroom, and before long, Fletcher emerged. He clearly had no intention of apologizing or offering an explanation; he simply ordered Verak to get to sleep early and strode out of the room.

Hearing the door close, Verak, who was facing away while tidying the bed, curled his lips into a smile.

The search was over.

Tomorrow, he would retrieve the files from Julia’s room, and the plan would officially be on track. If things progressed smoothly, he might not even need two months to get everything he wanted.

Verak glanced at the clock. It was only eleven o’clock. He guessed that Carmine had discovered the theft of the files sometime after ten. Although he couldn't hear the commotion outside, he could easily imagine the chaos unfolding.

Dempsey had been assassinated in the mansion last night, and before that matter was even resolved, the rebel organization’s documents and secret financial ledgers had been stolen from the study’s hidden compartment.

The sprawling Thomas family estate had become a place where the rebels could come and go as they pleased. Even the hiding place for Carmine’s greatest secrets had been ransacked, which undoubtedly struck a sensitive nerve.

Furthermore, since several important documents had been taken, who could be sure that others hadn't been read? And if they could kill someone silently, who could guarantee that the family wouldn't be in danger?

Verak could sleep soundly tonight to recharge, but for the Thomas family, it would be a sleepless night.

Having ruled out Verak as a suspect, the only people they could now suspect were the servants who entered the study at ten o'clock each night to clean.

Unfortunately, the servants had no real background; they were destined to find no clues there.

In the end, it was likely that Fletcher would also be implicated.

With things having reached this point, and with no other options, Carmine might eventually suspect that Fletcher was an inside man for the rebels; otherwise, too many things remained unexplained.

Having reached this stage, Verak—the man who had left the Thomas family in a state of panic—gradually began to harbor greater ambitions.

He didn't dwell too deeply on their affairs. Let them scramble like ants on a hot pan tonight. As for the plan, which was growing increasingly complex, he would take it one step at a time.

For the first time in a long while, Verak stretched comfortably and lay down on the bed.

Wednesday, July 26th.

Verak was not woken by Fletcher this morning, but by a servant.

When he went down to the dining room for breakfast, neither Carmine nor Mela was present; only the two daughters, Kellerman and Julia, were there.

Kellerman must have been in on the situation, as she ate listlessly and hurried away after only a few bites. Julia had a late start for school today and also left in a rush halfway through her meal.

Verak ate at his leisure.

With the Thomas family and Fletcher absent, no one here knew he was an impostor playing the role of Chris.

"Bring me a bottle of Julai wine," Verak commanded the servant with an air of ease.

The servant brought the wine and poured it. Verak took a sip, surveyed the dining room and the servants waiting nearby, and his smile deepened.

This was the life he had risked everything to attain. For now, he could only enjoy a moment of aristocratic leisure while the Thomas family was away. To truly live this life and truly enjoy these things, he still had more work to do.

He didn't dwell on the feeling for too long. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he went upstairs. While the servants were busy cleaning the dining room, he slipped into Julia’s room, retrieved the files from under the bed, and returned to his bedroom.

From today on, he could read these contents without worry.

With no one around, Verak didn't bother pretending to study the books he had no interest in, as Fletcher had demanded. Instead, he began reviewing the files according to the three-stage plan he had formulated yesterday.

He started with the list of names, filtering out those who were core members of the rebel organization and had some connection to his current identity.

This screening alone took three or four hours. Verak identified over two hundred people who met the criteria to varying degrees.

He would need to investigate all of them, but the workload was too immense. To achieve the highest efficiency, he would have to filter the list further.

He would gain different levels of understanding through different levels of contact.

After transcribing the list of over two hundred rebel members into a new notebook, Verak shook his aching hand and checked the time.

It was already nearly noon.

*I need to hurry,* Verak thought.

On Thursday—tomorrow night—Colin was going to invite him to the underground boxing arena to watch a match.

When Verak had gone out with Colin last time, he had already prepared to recruit someone reliable at this underground arena to take his place in doing business with Colin.

But this outing was not just about that. The rebel organization would certainly contact him as well, and Verak needed to finish his preparations before tomorrow night to conduct a second, more in-depth contact.