Chapter 363
“Are you that boy’s brother?” Nathan asked calmly. He recalled as he met Quincey’s hate–filled gaze.
“So what if I am?” Nathan said. “Now that you know the truth, you’ll pay with your life.”
Quincey thought bitterly, his eyes filled with hatred, ‘Zick went through hell just to escape that place. He was finally about to live a peaceful life.
‘The Moore family had the power to save him, but they just watched as Zick died right in front of them.’
Quincey and Zick only ever had each other growing up. Quincey fought so hard to get Zick out of that nightmare, and Zick made it all the way to the Moore family’s doorstep.
If only the Moore family had reached out, just lifted a finger, Zick could have survived. He was so damn close. Just one more step, and he would have made it.
All they needed to do was lift a finger. It would’ve been nothing for them, just a simple gesture.
Nathan demanded, “When did you find out about Zick? Five years ago? When I destroyed that organization?”
Quincey had always treated Nathan and Zinnia kindly.
But after learning that his brother died because the Moore family stood by and did nothing, the bond he’d built over more than a decade grew complicated, now laced with a resentment he couldn’t let go of.
When Nathan’s health took a turn for the worse, Quincey secretly wished he would just die. If Nathan died, Quincey wouldn’t have to do anything.
Quincey hated Nathan, but deep down, he had truly seen Nathan as his friend all these years.
When Nathan set out to destroy that organization, Quincey joined him without hesitation. In fact, Quincey took point, entering first before letting Nathan follow.
It was only later, after Quincey learned from the leader that the Moore family had stood by and let Zick die, that he gradually grew distant from Nathan.
But after learning Nathan was poisoned, Quincey genuinely did his best to find an antidote for him.
Yet deep down, his heart was torn. Part of him hoped they’d succeed, while another part secretly wished they wouldn’t.
Quincey said flatly, “What’s the point in talking about this now?”
Nathan let out a weary sigh. “It wasn’t that we didn’t want to save him. We simply couldn’t. By the time Zick collapsed outside our house, he was already in critical condition.”
It wasn’t that they refused to help; when the little boy collapsed outside their home, his condition was already dire. Still, they brought him inside.
Quincey shouted, “Lies. The leader said you could save Zick. His injuries were only external. Even if they were serious, doesn’t the Moore family have the Flowing Technique, the life–saving skill? Why didn’t you use it?”
Quincey didn’t believe him, wondering, ‘They could have saved Zick. They just didn’t want to help.’
Zick was so young. He never even got to see the sun outside. After finally escaping that hellhole, before he could even taste a peaceful life, his life ended at just seven.
Quincey screamed, “You just didn’t want to save him. Don’t give me these pathetic excuses. Stop trying to justify it.”
“I’m not making excuses. I just want to state the facts,” Nathan sighed. “The Flowing Technique can’t cure everything.
“You know how brutally he was tortured after escaping that organization. You should understand how severe his injuries were.”
The Flowing Technique couldn’t save everyone. By the time they brought that little boy home, he was already gravely wounded, covered in injuries, with the gunshot wound being the most critical.
They really couldn’t save him. All they managed was to keep him alive for a few more days. In the end, all they could do was preserve his remains.
That organization even tried to steal his body, but the Moore family stopped them.
Quincey shouted, “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe a word you say. You’re lying to me on purpose. Nathan, you’re always so manipulative. I won’t listen to you.
“The leader said you all just abandoned Zick outside, and in the end, he was dumped in the wilderness.”
Quincey stared at Nathan’s clear, earnest eyes, the cigarette trembling in his hand, ash falling as he stared in utter disbelief.
Nathan met his gaze calmly. “We’ve known each other for years. Do you really think the Moore family would do something like that?”
Quincey remained silent. Clearly, he knew Nathan was incapable of such cruelty.
However, for years, in his midnight dreams, Zick would cry to him, “Quincey, it hurts so much. I just want to live. Why wouldn’t they save me?” The sound of those tearful pleas tormented Quincey endlessly.
That organization took them away when Zick and Quincey were just kids. The training inside was pure hell. Zick couldn’t take it anymore. One day, he pleaded, “Quincey, I want to get out of here.”
Quincey was twelve back then, staring at Zick’s tear–streaked, red eyes. He nodded. “Okay. I’ll get you out.”
At just twelve years old, Quincey had already proven himself highly capable and had even been sent out on several missions.
He had secretly mapped out escape routes, waiting for the moments when the organization’s guard was at its lowest. He knew that every so often, the organization would dispose of a batch of bodies in the ravine.
To make it convincing, Zick begged Quincey to beat him until he was covered in injuries and hovering at death’s door.
Quincey controlled the extent of the beating. Though Zick was gravely wounded, with timely medical attention, there was still a real shot at survival and escape.
Quincey’s plan went off without a hitch at first. Zick was barely clinging to life, and the guards, convinced he was as good as dead, ordered him to be dumped in the ravine.
Quincey had already arranged for someone he trusted to wait in the ravine and pick Zick up.
When Quincey heard that a renowned medical family from Mealinia, the Moore family, was coming, he told his contact to bring Zick straight to their doorstep.
With the Moore family’s legendary skills, if they stepped in, Zick would have a real shot at survival. But later, the trusted contact returned with devastating news. Zick was dead.
He said Zick had died right outside the Moore manor. At the time, Quincey could only assume Zick’s injuries had been too severe for him to survive.
But later, when Quincey returned to the organization, the leader recognized him and told him the truth. The Moore family had watched Zick die without lifting a finger.
Zick still had a pulse when he reached their doorstep. If they’d just intervened, he might have survived. Yet they chose not to.
“We could’ve treated his external wounds,” Nathan said quietly. “But his internal organs were damaged beyond repair. He’d been shot in the abdomen. By the time we found him, he was already dying.”
“Shot in the abdomen? How could he have been shot?” Quincey blurted out, his eyes ice–cold.
‘I only wounded Zick. How did he end up with a gunshot wound?’ Quincey thought, stunned.
“I don’t know,” Nathan said quietly. “But when I extracted the bullet from his wound, it had the letter Y carved into it.”
Back then, Nathan personally tended to the little boy’s injuries.
“Y?” Quincey’s mind flashed to the person he had sent. His knees buckled, and his body seemed to collapse under the weight of realization.
‘Y? The guy from the organization? You can never truly trust anyone in that organization,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Back then, I was so young, so naive to believe otherwise.’
“No, I got Zick killed.” The truth crashed over Quincey. All these years, he’d been hating the wrong person.
Nathan said, “We still have the footage of that little boy at home. He left a message for you.”
It was the first life they watched slip away after arriving in Mealinia, a memory that had haunted Nathan for years.
“Would you like to know where Zick is buried?” Nathan asked gently.
Quincey looked up, his eyes shimmering with emotion. “Y–You buried him?”
“He rests in Mealinia.” Nathan nodded and quietly told him where the grave was.
Quincey closed his eyes, hiding the pain within. ‘All these years, I’ve been hating the wrong person. From now on, there is no going back between Nathan and me,’ he wondered.
Quincey pointed weakly to the house behind him, his voice barely above a whisper. “Zinnia is inside. Go to her.”
Just as Quincey’s words faded, a force yanked him back from behind. Before he could react, a fist sent him sprawling to the ground. “Zinnia’s gone. Where is she?” Yannis demanded, his voice shaking with fury.