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🚨 HE CLIMBED THE CABINETS TO SAVE MY LIFE: THE VENTILATION SECRET THAT UNRAVELED MY WHOLE EXISTENCE 🚨 / Chapter 14 / 15

Chapter 14 - RACE AGAINST TIME"The old bastard locked the main elevator!" Mark yelled, scrambling to the security console. "He's sealing the facility from Tokyo!"

"Is there another way out?!" I shouted over the blaring sirens.

"The ventilation shafts!" Mark realization struck him. "The structural vents connect to the old mountain drainage system! That's how I snuck into your house through the connecting sub-lines!"

"The vents are too narrow for a grown man!" I realized.

"For one man, yes," Mark said, his eyes filled with a sudden, calm resolve. He pulled a master override keycard from his suit pocket and shoved it into my hands. "Take the key. It bypasses the mountain gate. I'll stay here and hold the manual vent doors open from the control panel—otherwise they'll seal shut when the power cuts!"

"No! I'm not leaving you behind!" I yelled.

"Leo, look at me!" Mark grabbed my shoulders, his eyes glowing with faint red static—his neural degradation was taking over. "I was built to be a monster, but let me die as a man. Save yourself. Expose him. Destroy his empire!"

Rick barked, grabbing the sleeve of my jacket and pulling me toward the open access hatch near the ceiling.

"Go!" Mark roared, slamming his fist onto the manual door override switch.

With tears streaming down my face, I hoisted myself up into the narrow metal vent. Rick leaped up right behind me, his athletic frame slipping into the dark shaft with ease.

TIME REMAINING: 60 SECONDS.

We crawled with frantic speed through the cramped, dusty ducts as the metal around us shook violently. Explosions echoed from deep within the lower levels, heat rising through the floor of the vents like an open furnace.

"Keep going, Rick! Almost there!" I wheezed, seeing a faint pinprick of daylight at the end of the long tunnel.

10... 9... 8...

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The hospital room smelled sharply of bleach and antiseptic, a stark contrast to the suffocating scent of the white roses scattered across the linoleum floor. Flynn remained frozen beside the bed, his broad shoulders slumped, the formidable CEO of Vance Global reduced to a hollow, trembling shell.

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Arthur Sterling tapped his leather-wrapped fingers against the steering wheel of his matte-black Bentley, staring at the imposing wrought-iron gates of his own estate. To the world, the Sterling name was synonymous with untouchable wealth, bleeding-edge tech investments, and a picture-perfect modern family. But as the automated gates slid open with a soft, expensive hum, Arthur didn't feel like a master of a universe; he felt like a stranger walking into a trap he had built with his own hands.

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The sound hung in the air, rhythmic and deliberate—tap, tap, tap—reverberating directly through the plaster of the master bedroom's walk-in closet wall.

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We burst through the external ventilation grille, tumbling down a steep grassy slope just as a massive, thundering explosion tore through the mountain behind us!

A column of fire and black smoke billowed into the sky, sealing Sub-Level 4 under millions of tons of rock forever.

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