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Chapter_494
Vivienne looked pale as a ghost.
Clearly, it was time to fast-track the development of the new bomb detector. They could not afford
another incident like this.
But Imogen’s face was a tapestry of tension, and Vivienne noticed.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
Imogen shook her head, troubled. “No, there should be thirty-one… Yesterday, he found one…”
She reached up, touching the headband nestled in her hair—a gift from her beloved, cherished more
than gold. Just yesterday, he had whispered to her with undying affection, “Your hair is your crowning
glory, love. With this, you’re even more radiant.”
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Three seconds remained.
Tears welled in her eyes as she dashed out of the Ellington Mansion.
Vivienne and Percival had no time to react before a deafening explosion shook the air.
When the smoke cleared, only a shattered necklace remained on the ground. It was the token Richard
had given to Imogen, a symbol of her acceptance into the Ellington family.
The bomb’s force had vaporized Imogen instantly, like a plane plummeting from the sky, obliterating
everything in its path.
Vivienne and Percival were frozen. If Imogen had not acted on her instincts, they, too, would have been
reduced to nothing.
Not far away, in a parked car, Isolde burst into tears. She had watched her beloved aunt vanish, her
waterfall of hair gone without a trace.
Cecilia nestled into her husband’s embrace.
Out of all Flynn’s sins, Imogen was the most tragic victim—a solitary girl who vanished from existence
without a last word, as if she had never been.
Vivienne stepped outside; the air still held a tinge of fire powder. She picked up the unrecognizable
necklace and wiped it clean with her hands.
Richard exited the car, addressing Percival, “We owe her a dignified farewell. The Ellington family failed
her.”
Percival nodded, drawing Vivienne close, comforting her with a gentle hold.
Vanguard Agency’s special squad cleared the Ellington Mansion and raided Flynn’s room, taking away
all related materials.
Composing herself, Vivienne entered Flynn’s bedroom.
Photos of Imogen and Flynn stood on the nightstand, everything untouched. The bed was made to
perfection, two sets of clean pajamas folded neatly.
As Vivienne approached, she noticed a hair entangled in a button of Flynn’s pajama top—likely
Imogen’s.
noveldrama
She untangled the hair, holding it between her fingers. Suddenly, her expression froze.
Carefully examining the strand, something felt off.
“What’s wrong, Vivienne?” Percival approached, concerned at her uneasy demeanor.
She plucked one of her own hairs and placed both strands in his hand. “Feel these. Notice anything
odd?”
Percival’s brow furrowed as he felt the hairs, and realization dawned on him.
The hair from Flynn’s pajama was synthetic—a wig!
…
Elsewhere in Rivenwood.
F-Poison returned to GTO headquarters, stretching her neck before firing up the helicopter.
With Flynn captured, it was time to leave Rivenwood behind.
“Vivienne, Percival, we’ll meet again another day.”
Had they been there, they would have recognized her as Imogen, supposedly dead.
Meanwhile.
Imogen’s body was nowhere to be found.
Vivienne had intended to issue an Order of Nine Mystics Society to pursue the allegedly deceased
Imogen. But she could not risk exposure with a traitor still lurking within the Nine Mystics Society.
She turned to Draven and Matthew. “Search for any trace of Imogen in secret. Report back the moment
you find something.”
Matthew hesitated. “But Vivienne, isn’t Imogen already…”
He stopped, seeing her stern face, and accepted the task.
Vivienne’s brows knitted together.
Imogen was still alive; she knew it. But her true identity within GTO and her connection to F-Poison
remained a mystery—perhaps someone even more significant than Belle.
Imogen had hidden her identity well.
Outside, Percival finally uncovered the secret of Imogen’s feigned death.
The person they saw and the bomb that exploded were real, but the person was an illusion.
He found a sophisticated projector on the Ellington Mansion’s gate. The shattered necklace was its
remote.
The concept had originated with Karen, intended to cast deceptive images to confuse enemies and
also to be employed in training exercises for the operatives of the Vanguard Agency.
It was a task not just anyone could undertake.
And yet, this piece of elite technology, which should have been secured within the Vanguard Agency
HQ’s walls, had somehow been perfected by the GTO and was now operational.
To Percival, it was nothing short of a blatant insult to Karen and the integrity of the entire Vanguard
Agency.
His brows knitted together, casting a chilling aura that could freeze the air, his visage as imposing as an
advancing glacier, compelling anyone to give a wide berth.
Many within the Vanguard Agency had the clearance to access such tech, but none would dare from
Rivenwood HQ.
This meant that neither he nor Micah could be responsible.
Who, then, was behind this? Read at
Vivienne emerged from the Ellington Mansion, catching sight of the projector in Percival’s grasp, and
instantly grasped the gravity of the situation.
A cold, steely resolve flashed in her eyes.
Whoever was responsible, she would not let them off lightly.
Her phone rang with the distinctive tone reserved for the Nine Mystics Society members.
[Young Master, the Miller family’s stronghold has been attacked. We’ve suffered heavy casualties and
need immediate backup!]
Vivienne had gathered her most trusted allies from the Nine Mystics Society that day, fortifying their
position to ensure the capture of White Tiger went off without a hitch.
Richard and the others were among those the Nine Mystics Society had snatched back from the brink
of death.
Thus, the defense deployed at the stronghold was now weaker than usual.
And yet, despite their vigilance, their stronghold had been hit when they least expected it.