Chapter 689: Struggle has always been part of human instinct

"He’s old... so no one would suspect if he had a little accident, right?"

A moment of silence filled the air as the other man on the line didn’t speak. Meanwhile, Sven’s face remained blank, but he knew what he had said was something he was willing to do. It was something he had to do.

After all, his life was more important.

When Sven first found the suspicious card in his car, he had been skeptical. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t even consider it at first. But because of Atlas and Chairman Bennet’s arrogance, anger and vengeance blinded him.

Sven knew he’d settle scores, whether or not the card was just a silly prank. However, after calling that number and making contact with this person, Sven didn’t realize what kind of trap he had walked into.

Only now, after everything that had happened, did he realize it wasn’t just a hole he jumped into. It was quicksand. The more he struggled, the faster it would pull him under. This realization came too late, and now he had no choice but to do what he was told.

"Hahaha!" Out of nowhere, just as Sven was thinking about how to deal with the witness from last night, the man on the other end of the line burst into laughter.

Sven furrowed his brows, staring at the phone in confusion. ’Did I say something funny?’

"Oh, Sven Bennet," the man said, as his laughter subsided. "You’re a little amusing. It just shows you deserve a second chance."

"A second chance...?" Sven asked, still confused.

"Haha. You messed up, but I’m just kidding. You’re not in trouble... yet."

Sven’s brows furrowed even deeper. "So the file —?"

"They’re just as useless as I said before, but that isn’t your fault," the man replied. "From what I heard, Atlas had something installed yesterday to prevent a data breach."

"Uh..." Sven’s mouth opened slightly, unsure if this was good news or bad.

"Don’t worry about the security guard. I’ve handled it."

"You did?"

"Of course! If I hadn’t, the police would’ve already barged into your home and taken you away."

Sven closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, his entire body feeling like it had thawed. All his strength seemed to slip away, and before he knew it, he had melted onto the edge of the bed and down to the floor, his forehead resting on the mattress.

"But don’t relax yet," the man continued. "Although I’ve taken care of things for now, there’s still something else you need to do."

"Anything!" Sven blurted out, lifting his eyes to the phone. "I’ll do anything! Whatever it is!"

The man on the other end smirked. "That little assistant... he’s still breathing. Even though he’s in a coma, you wouldn’t want him waking up and running his mouth, would you?"

"..."

"Get it done, and make sure you don’t screw this up," the man added, his tone shifting to a more serious one. "Don’t waste the second chance I’m giving you, Sven Bennet."

Sven opened and closed his mouth before finally stuttering, "Y-yes. I won’t mess this up this time."

"Good boy."

The call ended abruptly, with no further pleasantries. It took Sven a moment to realize the conversation was over, and that, for now, he was safe.

"Hah..." Sven let out a heavy sigh, pushing himself away from the bed weakly. He turned around until his back rested against the bedframe, facing the luggage he had packed not long ago. "Sven Bennet..."

Bitterness filled his eyes as he clenched his hands into tight fists. "... just what kind of people have I let into my life?"

Though Sven had always antagonized Atlas, his main agenda was to bring the company down. If he couldn’t succeed, he didn’t want Atlas to succeed either. Tarnishing Atlas’s reputation would hurt Chairman Bennet, and perhaps even make their grandfather feel remorse.

That was what Sven had intended when he wanted to bring down Atlas — not this, not having to literally and physically harm someone.

"I’m scared..." he whimpered through gritted teeth, hugging his knees and burying his face in them. "I’m terrified."

Because deep down, Sven knew one thing: there was no way out anymore. The moment he considered that invitation, and the second he made that call, he was granted a one-way ticket.

Unless he accepted death, perhaps there was no escape. But then again, who in their right mind would accept death without a fight? Struggle has always been part of human instinct.

******

[GLOBAL PRIME LOGISTICS]

"Are you sure you didn’t see anyone suspicious or someone who shouldn’t have been in the building last night?" the officer asked the security guard as the investigation continued, despite already having enough evidence.

The old security guard, who had been called into the office for questioning, thought for a moment. "Well, I saw Mr. Allen come back. We even talked."

"Did he say anything unusual? Was he acting strange or anything like that?"

"Well... I don’t think so," the security guard shook his head and smiled. "We just talked for a bit, since he usually doesn’t come back once he leaves."

"Did he tell you what he was doing here?"

The security guard nodded. "He said he forgot his briefcase. Sir Allen sometimes forgets his things, but he doesn’t usually come back for them."

"But last night, he did?"

"Yes... for some reason. I found it a bit odd, too."

"I see," the officer nodded in understanding, while the security guard looked at him with conflicted eyes. "Anything else you remember from last night?"

The security guard opened his mouth, then closed it and smiled. "Nothing, Officer."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. After working for this company for decades and managing to send my children to good schools because of this job, I would’ve known if something was amiss," the old security guard replied.

"Well, contact me if anything comes to mind..."

The old security guard listened to the officer’s reminder as the latter moved on to question others. Once he was free to go, the old man quietly walked out of the building.

Looking around the open parking space near a restaurant, he stopped beside a black car. He folded his hands in front of him, his head lowered.

When the backseat window rolled down just a few inches, all he heard was, "Good job."

"Th-thank you," the old security guard stammered. "Sir, how about my... my family?"

"They’re fine. They should be home when you get there."

"Thank you, thank you, sir. Thank you." Despite the words of gratitude, the old man’s voice was filled with fear. He kept thanking them even as the window rolled up and an envelope was tossed out of the car, which then sped away.