Chapter 306: The Ghost of Ontario

Ethan leaned back, the amber liquid in his glass swirling as he studied the man across from him. "Is there someone you care about?" Albert asked.

"Yes. Many people," Ethan said.

"Well... I only have one. My mother," Albert said.

He took a massive gulp of the whiskey, the burn of the alcohol clearly giving him the courage to speak truths he had buried for years. "I don’t expect you to pity me. I don’t expect forgiveness for my sins. I’ve done horrible things... and in truth, I deserve to die," Albert said.

Albert stared into the bottom of his glass, his eyes misting over as the memories began to bleed out.

"My father was an eighth-generation descendant. We lived in Ontario, far from the rot of the main family. He worked as a simple carpenter, and my mother was a housewife. We were happy. We were... normal. But one day, my father traveled for business and met a young lady from the Blackmoon Clan. She became obsessed with him," Albert said.

"And he refused her?" Ethan asked.

"He was a man of honor. He told her he had a wife and a son. But she didn’t care. She begged her father to investigate him, and when they found out he carried the Scavenger bloodline—even if it was diluted—the Blackmoon Patriarch saw an opportunity. He went to the Scavenger headquarters to arrange a political marriage," Albert said.

Albert’s hands began to shake violently, the glass clinking against his teeth as he took another sip.

"The Scavenger Patriarch was ecstatic. A chance to link with another powerful clan? He didn’t care about a carpenter’s life. I still remember the day they arrived at our house in Ontario. We were having dinner. The door didn’t just open; it exploded inward," Albert said.

"What happened to your mother?" Ethan asked.

"The Blackmoon woman... the moment she saw my mother, her face twisted into something demonic. She didn’t just want my father; she wanted to erase his past. She began to beat my mother brutally, screaming that a ’common peasant’ had no right to touch what belonged to a Great Clan," Albert said.

Albert choked back a sob, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

"My father tried to shield her, but he was just a man. The guards pinned him to the floor, forcing him to watch. I was only a boy, but I ran at them. I tried to bite, to scratch... one of the guards backhanded me so hard I hit the wall. They made us watch while that woman ruined my mother’s face with her own rings," Albert said.

"And the Scavengers? Your own blood?" Ethan asked.

"They stood by the door and laughed. They said it was a ’fitting lesson’ for a branch member who forgot his place.

Despite his pleas, they beat my mother until she was at death’s door. Then, the Blackmoon woman stopped the guards. She smiled—a smile I see in my nightmares—and said that dying was too light a punishment for the ’offense’ of being loved by my father. She wanted us to suffer in true, grinding misery," Albert said.

He took another shaky breath. "My father was handed over like a common slave to that woman. He was dragged to the Blackmoon estate to be her plaything, her broken prize. My mother and I? We were thrown into an Arctic prison near the border—a pit where the Scavengers send the blood-relatives they want to break. It’s a place designed to make you wish for the end," Albert said.

Ethan set his glass down on the table with a soft thud. The air in the room grew heavy as his purple Qi flickered unconsciously, reacting to the sheer injustice of the story.

"So you sabotage the shipments. You save who you can to spit in their faces," Ethan said.

"It is the only rebellion I have left," Albert said.

Ethan took another slow drink, his eyes never leaving Albert’s face. "Then tell me, Albert... how does a boy in a frozen pit become the manager of a high-security facility like this?" Ethan said.

Albert let out a dry, hollow laugh. "Survival. I spent my childhood making myself indispensable. I helped the guards, the researchers, the logistics officers—I learned everything. I learned to read their ledgers, to fix their machines, to predict their needs. I clawed my way up by being the most efficient tool they had," Albert said.

He leaned forward, the shadows under his eyes deepening. "I eventually earned their trust. A few years ago, I managed to decrypt the movement patterns of a rival family that was planning to seize our assets. I saved the clan millions. For that, they gave me this position—a taste of ’freedom.’ But they never let go of the chain. My mother is still held in that North facility, kept like a dog in a kennel to ensure I never think about running," Albert said.

Ethan watched the man, his internal scanner confirming the raw, agonizing truth in every word. This wasn’t a butcher by choice; this was a man who had been forged in a furnace of cruelty.

"You’ve spent your life learning how their machine works, Albert. That makes you more dangerous than a hundred genetic soldiers," Ethan said.

"Perhaps. But as long as she is in that cage, I am nothing," Albert said.

Albert let out a long, heavy sigh, placing the empty glass on the table.

"Kill me. End this once and for all," Albert said. He looked at Ethan with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. "I’ve never had the courage to do it myself. My mother is still in that shithole, so I can’t just run away with my life... but seeing that the end of these people is near because they messed with you, I can die in peace knowing this place will fall."

Ethan remained silent for a moment, letting the tension fill the room. There was no trace of a lie in the young man; Albert was a man who already considered himself a corpse. However, Ethan saw more than just a sinner seeking redemption; he saw the most valuable asset he could find in this frozen territory.