Nurses run out of the room as pillows and other items are thrown after them. They look at Dr. Jason Lanes with pleading eyes as he approaches.
"Ms. Haler's condition is getting worse, Doctor!" the nurses tell him. "We think we should move her to psychiatry."
"Hm, a large part of her memories had been distorted for a long time, replaced by the criminal memories of a psychopath, no less." Jason looks worriedly at Rachel's room door. "I wonder who can fix it, now that the one who caused it is gone."
___
"What did you say? Kensington died?" Kyle yells in disbelief, too shocked to remember to communicate telepathically.
"Shhh! Keep it down!" James covers the young detective's mouth, pulling him away.
"You want to inform the whole world that we lost our final lead?" James whispers to Kyle in his mind.
"But this is unacceptable!" Kyle looks at his leader in disbelief. "How?"
"They reported that he had an adverse reaction to the blinding drug used on him," James sighs. "He had a seizure and died after that."
"No way, did the NET not test it first?" Kyle questions. "Even if they are just executioners, how could they carry out such a sloppy job? We tried so hard to catch him. We even lost Marcus. How... how could they?"
James looks at Kyle's vexed expression silently, trying to contain his own rising temper. Even the usually calm and rational detective leader finds it hard to keep his cool now.
"The NET will surely have to take responsibility for this." James' expression becomes darker and exceptionally hostile. "I'll make sure they do."
___
In a dark, cold room hidden from the outside world, a figure sits silently, his face shrouded in darkness. The man's clothes and leather shoes are of luxury brands, matching the high-end furniture around him, but everything feels strangely chilly and ominous.
This is the man who orchestrated William Kensington's escape and tasked the serial murderer with killing Anna in exchange for his freedom. Unfortunately, the plan didn't succeed... No, actually, it went exactly as he wanted.
Someone knocks on the door and speaks respectfully, "This is Roland, sir."
"Come in," the man replies.
The door clicks open, and a tall man in his thirties walks in, dressed in a tailored suit, looking every bit the gentleman.
Looking at him, no one can imagine what he did. This man drove the pickup truck that crashed into the police car transporting Kensington, and stabbed Detective Marcus to help the serial murderer escape. When Kensington preyed upon Sarah Ryler in the suburban alley, Roland was also monitoring him from a distance.
"Kensington died, as you commanded," Roland reports to the man before him. "The insider made it look like it was caused by the NET."
"That useless thing," the man snorts. "I went through the trouble of getting him out, backing him up, and even setting up an insider to give a fake alarm at the last minute. Yet he still failed so pathetically."
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Roland stands silently, agreeing with his boss.
"What about William's memory records of us?" the man asks.
___
At the Coldor Police Department, Kyle stared at the records obtained from the dead serial murderer on his laptop, frustration filling his eyes. "There's nothing here. Who helped him, what made him able to kill. Nothing!"
___
"They were already taken care of, sir," Roland calmly responds. "The day you met him, the barrier-removing medicine you gave him, the lock-laced shoes, all of it."
"Okay, good," the man in the dark nods nonchalantly.
"But sir," Roland hesitates, "I have to remind you that it was reckless of you to approach Gabriel Lanes like that."
"Oh, that?" the man shrugs. "I just wanted to give him a welcome-home present, you know."
"It was too risky, sir," Roland says. "What if they find out about your real identity because of it?"
"What? Isn't it your job to conceal it?" The man's voice suddenly turns ice-cold, revealing a hint of his true nature, enough to make Roland shudder. Roland immediately lowers his head, knowing he overstepped his boundaries.
"I told you," the man's voice softens, with a strange sense of affection, "if it's for my friend, I can do anything!"
___
Gabriel stands before a closed door, familiar but uncomfortable to him. He looks at the sign plate: "Chief Officer - Anthony Grant - National Execution Taskforce", hesitating. But as if reading his thoughts, a voice comes from inside.
"Come in, Gab! I know you're here!"
Gabriel sighs and opens the door. A man sits at the desk, waiting for him with a teasing smile, not matching his formal black uniform at all.
That's Anthony, the head of the NET and Gabriel's superior. He speaks with his uniquely humorous, sarcastic tone.
"Hi, my top dog! How have you been?"
"I came to return my badge and weapon," Gabriel says frankly, placing his items on the desk. "Have you signed my resignation letter?"
"Nooo, how can you be so cold?" Anthony groans like a child, despite his fifty-year-old face. "I came to save you from that cold cell when you were in distress, remember?"
Anthony, the mysterious man who visited Gabriel at the Coldor Police Station, provided him with solid alibis in the Black Hood case.
"Well, thank you for helping me keep the secret of being an executioner," Gabriel stands firm. "But I've decided. I'm leaving the NET. I completed my service here."
"But why?" Anthony insists. "You did so well! Out of all my team leaders, you are the youngest, but also the best. It's as if you were born to do this job. Why would you want to quit it?"
"You make it sound as if I've been enjoying it," Gabriel smiles bitterly. "Actually, I haven't. I just tried my best to return to my family as soon as possible. Now that I'm home, there's no reason for me to keep working here anymore."
"Hmm, is that so?" Anthony stares at Gabriel with his sharp green eyes. "Are you sure you are not endangering the family that you love so much?"
That statement makes Gabriel flinch, immediately becoming alert.
"That guy who keeps sending threat letters to you," Anthony replies, placing a stack of letters and photos of the Lanes' other members on his desk. The photos look like they were taken in secret, and the letter envelopes have no sender information except a single letter "R".
"Or should I say, fan letters? Anyway, this R guy," Anthony continues, "we've been trying to find him, but nothing so far. He must be one hell of a stalker, or a powerful psycho. Who knows what on earth he could do."
___
In the dark room, Roland walks out, leaving the mysterious man alone. The man stands up from his chair and opens a bookshelf in the corner, revealing a secret chamber behind it. Humming happily, he enters the dimly lit space, which is fully covered with photos of Gabriel—his everyday commute, his duty trips, his sad expressions, his smiles—all showing an unsettling obsession.
The man looks around the room with contentment, then steps closer to the largest photo at the center of the wall. It features Gabriel in his NET uniform, carrying a long sword at his side, with droplets of blood on his face that look like the remnants of an execution he just carried out. The man caresses Gabriel's cold, indifferent face in the picture, a twisted, elated smile spreading across his own.
"Hi, Gab, it's me, R." he says with a disturbingly gentle voice. "My dear friend. For you, I'd do anything!"