Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women
Chapter 850 - 852

Chapter 850: Chapter 852

This time, it wasn’t a tarot. It was a photo. Black and white. Of Jude.

He stared at it for a long time. His younger self, maybe ten years ago, standing beside two people he couldn’t bear to remember. The edges of the photo were burned. On the back, a message scrawled in red ink:

"They remember. Do you?"

Jude pocketed the photo and stood up. This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was personal. Someone was pulling his past back into the light, and he didn’t know why. He pulled out his phone and called Elias.

"Found another clue," Jude said without preamble.

"Where are you?"

"Near St. Mirin’s. I’ll send you the location."

"I’ll bring gear."

"No. Come alone."

Elias paused. "What did you find?"

"Me," Jude said. "They’re coming for me now."

An hour later, they met at a diner two blocks away. Elias slid into the booth across from Jude, his coat damp with rain.

"You sure it’s him?"

"It’s him. But he’s not alone. Someone’s helping him. Someone with access to old files."

Elias frowned. "You think there’s a leak?"

"I think there’s a mole. And I think they’re digging through our ghosts."

Elias pulled out his own phone and scrolled through something. "I’ve been running background checks on the old crew. A few went dark. One died last year. But two... two turned mercenary."

"Names?"

Elias turned the screen toward him. Jude’s eyes narrowed.

"No way," he muttered. "She’s dead."

"She faked it. Changed her name. Working under the alias ’Lynx’ now."

Jude leaned back. "She was there. The night it all fell apart."

"And now she’s back."

They stared at each other, the weight of the past pressing down like fog. Jude remembered her eyes, cold, calculating, the kind that could lie without blinking. If she was back, it meant more than revenge. It meant strategy. Planning. Control.

"I’ll find her," Jude said, standing.

"You won’t be able to do it alone."

"I don’t plan to," he replied, but there was a hollowness in his voice that told Elias otherwise.

Before Elias could press him, Jude was already walking out. The rain had started. Light at first, then heavier. It soaked through his jacket as he moved through the city, his steps slower now, more deliberate. The picture in his pocket felt like a weight. A reminder. They weren’t just killing again. They were rewinding the tape. Making him watch the past in reverse.

He went home just long enough to grab his gear. A gun, a knife, two spare clips, and a flash drive he hadn’t touched in years. It contained files no one was supposed to see, evidence of the operation that had broken everything, sealed away because the truth was too ugly for even the system that created it.

He would use it now.

Not to bring justice.

To bring them out.

That night, Jude didn’t sleep either. But he wasn’t alone in that.

Somewhere across the city, in a dimly lit room, a woman watched surveillance feeds on three monitors. She tapped her fingers in rhythm to a song no one else could hear. On the screen, Jude walked the streets. On another, Elias argued with someone on the phone. And on the third, the missing boy, Liam, sat tied to a chair, eyes wide, a gag in his mouth.

She smiled.

Behind her, a shadow moved.

"We’re almost ready," she said without turning.

The shadow stepped closer, revealing a face hidden behind a mask.

"Soon," the figure replied. "He’ll come to us."

"And when he does?" she asked.

The figure leaned in. "We’ll give him the ending he deserves."

The night had not yet lifted its grip from the city, and the dawn had only begun to color the horizon with a faint gray light when Jude stood on the rooftop of an abandoned factory, watching the fog roll through the alleyways below like silent ghosts. He hadn’t returned home. There was no time. After everything he had uncovered yesterday, the card, the photo, Liam’s shoe, he knew the net was tightening. There was no way back now, only forward, deeper into the shadows that refused to let him go. He checked his weapon, the comforting weight of it reminding him he wasn’t powerless, just cornered. Somewhere out there, Liam was still alive. He had to believe that. Because if he didn’t, the rage building inside him would become a wildfire, and there would be no room for control. Control was what had kept him alive this long.

The factory had once been a hub of life, churning with machines and workers. Now, it was a skeleton of its former self, a maze of rusted pipes and dust-covered floors. But Jude knew it held more than memories. According to an encrypted message Elias had sent last night, the signal they had traced, the one connected to the photo of Jude, had originated here, or close to it. Someone had used this place as a base. Maybe they still were. He moved silently across the roof, eyes scanning for signs of life, and then crouched near a rusted ventilation shaft. The metal gave a quiet creak under his fingers as he opened the hatch and dropped inside.

Inside, the air was thick with age. He navigated the vents like a shadow, descending through levels of forgotten infrastructure until he reached a corridor lit faintly by a flickering overhead bulb. Footsteps echoed below, soft and measured. Jude froze. He counted two distinct rhythms. One heavy, the other lighter, less experienced. He slipped from the vent and landed quietly behind a pile of crates. Two figures walked past, a man with a limp and a teenage girl carrying a duffel bag. Neither looked armed, but Jude didn’t trust appearances.

He waited until they disappeared down the corridor, then followed. As he moved, he spotted signs of recent use, discarded food wrappers, a still-warm coffee mug, a phone charger plugged into a portable battery. Someone was living here. Or staging something. He turned a corner and found a metal door with a keypad. No camera, but the keypad had fresh smudges. He didn’t hesitate. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tool Elias had given him, a small device that could mimic keystrokes once calibrated. He attached it to the pad, waited for the light to turn green, and stepped inside.