Flip the Coin [BL]-Chapter 445. HOW THE FUCK are you here?

I seamlessly switched between feeling helpless, fucking infuriated, and close to laughing out loud.

Besides the brainwashing tune in my ear, what the fuck am I listening to here??

When the hell did I turn into the demon that needed to be sealed away?

Am I in the wrong world? Are they going on about one of my deranged counterparts?

If they at least talked about the giant, or things I had REALLY done, and under them were quite a few unforgivable ’sins,’ then this wouldn’t feel so damn fucking absurd.

But capturing me for what exactly?

Because of my mother? Henrietta? Because he just doesn’t like the way I look, walk, or breathe?

Give me a fucking break!

I stared ahead like the earphones told me and looked at the security guy sitting across from me.

He was busy with his phone, and after the ominous prediction or threat or whatever my father had spouted, nobody talked again.

To get my thoughts away from the voice whispering in my ears, I imagined a few scenarios in which I lunged to the small window, where I would at best get my arm through, to grab my sister’s hair and give it a good yank so that the whole truck derailed, preferably to meet with a tree.

A big tree that would smash these two in the front but leave us others unharmed.

I can’t wait to tell Henry how these two motherfuckers were scheming in their little truck filled with brainwashed people, at the same time working for AND putting their petty revenge into the hands of someone WHOSE IDENTITY THEY WEREN’T EVEN CLEAR OF.

HOPING THAT THIS FAMILY WOULD CAPTURE ME AND MAKE ME PAY. WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST HEAR? WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?

Though the puppy would go ballistic and instantly get rid of them if he heard about that... pfft—it’s so cute how he nearly attacked my father in the warehouse just upon glancing at him.

Not bad having one angry little puppy that was tall and muscular and frightening if he wanted to be.

I hope he can manage to keep calm after the message I sent and doesn’t go wild there.

And... I hope my power is still working so that the rats I took out haven’t gone back to the past again.

Damn it, that would be a catastrophe, fuck.

Nonono, I did think about that before flipping the violet coin and decided it was unlikely. Every time I lost consciousness or something, my power still worked, so it had to be fine.

Though if not... fuck... No. Don’t make yourself paranoid; there were no confused gasps as we walked out of the warehouse... though everyone had stopped working to watch the show.

Anyway, it doesn’t help to think about this now that I was in Harry’s body.

–I immediately had to direct my thoughts away from the fact that this was not my own body, because the more I thought about it, the realer it became, the more panic and adrenaline I would feel, and the more I’d feel the vortex pulling on me.

But it didn’t matter how long it would take; I won’t go back until I at least know the exact location where my people are being held and have found a place without cameras and people that would be suitable to teleport to in the future—when we will be rescuing everyone.

I am so fucking relieved that my grandmother had already smashed my father’s face—with that, a tiny portion of my anger had been quelled, and the fact that he KNEW now that his mother was ’the real one’ and not some fucking imposter I had hired was also giving me plenty of satisfaction.

A grown man coming out to kiss his mother’s cheek each time we had these forceful dinners, calling her ’Mother’ so meekly—this manchild got slapped for disrespecting her, bahahahaha!

That asshole must be crying on the inside now, and the best proof was his outbursts toward the poor dashboard.

The truck stopped, surprising me as I was so focused on my own thoughts to distract myself from the voice whispering into my ears, and I nearly looked up.

If I had made any sudden motions, it would have drawn suspicion, because nobody else moved, besides the security guy putting his phone away.

The door was opened by my father after some time, and when it was my turn to stand up, I could see that outside, a caravan of cars had stopped behind us.

These cars seemed to have accompanied ours, probably in case of any attack on the road.

Ha! They had thought it through, hadn’t they?

I stepped forward, watching as more and more people gathered in front of the car until it was my turn to jump down.

I landed on grass, and what I was spotting was just another big grassy landscape, so we weren’t inside the city.

The people surrounding us apparently had guns on them and stood ready; I counted about fifty of them, all clad in black but not with the apparent fencing masks my group wore.

Everyone in our group was taken by the arm by one of the guards or security men or whatever, and we all were brought in the same direction, which was behind the parked truck and the many cars behind them.

I suppressed the urge to rip my arm away from the iron grip of the guy that had held onto Harry while staring ahead with my head bent, just like the others in front of me.

We were heading to a big factory-like building with rust-colored bricks, with more men standing in front of it, some even wearing camouflage clothing.

I tried to take notice of everything I was able to get a look at while trying not to lose focus; on this drugged body, constantly hearing the voice’s commands wasn’t easy, as I felt myself relax more and more, getting tired.

Someone from our group in the front fell; I think it was Chelsea.

"Oh no." The man gripping her arm held onto her so that she wouldn’t hit the ground.

"It is only working for so long, huh?" someone else said, but I couldn’t make out who without moving my head.

What I could make out was what dangled from the belt of someone ahead, and it gave me an adrenaline kick that chased away my sleepiness.

A collar.

To be exact, the same collar we had the joy of wearing inside the crystalline world, or rather, where the Bonedragon had been chained.

Not only this one; these fucking collars seemed to have been mass-produced—while I looked in every direction possible, I spotted quite a few people having them ready, as if the collars were just another weapon on their person.

We were still some distance away from the factory, and on our way, two more fencing-masked people fell unconscious.

"Did you note the time?" A new voice asked someone, and the other one agreed.

There was no sign of my father or Lauren, and I had no idea where exactly they were.

When we finally arrived at the factory, a queue formed, and we came to a halt.

I heard something beeping, but it was only when it was my turn that I understood what this was about.

The guy holding onto me pulled my sleeve up, and I stared at the barcode tattooed on Harry’s wrist while it was being scanned.

I don’t know; I was so goddamn speechless in that moment.

Yeah, I know; the fact that an apocalypse was ongoing was constantly shoved into my face in every way possible, so why am I horrified looking at this?

I should have already gone numb to these surprises long ago.

I don’t know why this shocked me so much; was this really worse than drugging people and brainwashing them?

No.

But the barcode tattoos that apparently weren’t only on the group’s wrists but also on every guard, security personnel, or camouflaged man rattled me quite a bit.

I felt my sanity crumble a bit, and I didn’t need the space in my mind or to see the table—which were both not available while inside another body—to know that the surface was slightly damaged.

"This one too, huh?" The voice beside me pushed me forward when I didn’t move a few steps later, frozen still, before eventually picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder to carry me inside after his own barcode had been scanned.

From this point on, everything had turned upside down, as I dangled as motionless as possible from the guy’s shoulder, now unable to see any more than his back and the wall to our side.

The factory corridor, full of the same rust-colored bricks, had apparently been renovated.

A glass wall was directly in front of the bricks, as well as over the floor.

Like a glass building inside a brick building, built as closely as possible to the original.

I heard a bit of commotion as I was carried forward, a man asking,

"How many are still conscious?"

This voice...

"Two," someone else answered.

"WHAT A SUCCESS!" the man rejoiced, and someone congratulated him.

Where did I hear that voice?

Wherewherewherewhere?

I was carried down brick steps that were also covered with a glass surface. Essentially this building was covered with glass from the inside, like my table was with the crystalline surface.

"How many commands were given?" the man asked again, falling back but also coming down the narrow stairs while talking to someone, who turned out to be my father.

"It seemed one verbal command, no other incidents; they behaved well." He answered the man but didn’t sound overly happy.

"Hmm... I had hoped for more verbal commands..."

Wherewherewherewherewhere have I heard that voice?

"...Either way. Let me take a look at your cheek when the little lambs have settled down," the man finished.

We came to the end of the long narrow staircase, and I heard different voices reverberate, telling me that this was a really big space we were now in.

The floor changed from bricks under glass to earth under glass, while the greenish neon light was shining so brightly that it hurt my eyes under the mask.

"No, it’s not necessary, Doctor," my father answered when the doctor spoke again.

"That won’t do, Mr. Howard..."

Ah.

Hearing the voice say my last name, I remembered.

No wonder I hadn’t thought of him; the last time I heard his voice, it had been a bit older, not to mention that he wasn’t talking but unleashing the most horrendous screams.

And that in a memory I had so long repressed before finally remembering the extent of the torture I inflicted on him while ripping him apart with my. own. two. hands.

Dr. Carell...

HOW THE FUCK are you here?