Chapter 325
Posted on July 05, 2025 ยท 1 mins read
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Chapter 325

A cluster of children who witnessed the scene burst into terrified tears.

In the chaos, it wasnโ€™t just the police who got hurtโ€“several villagers ended up accidentally injuring their own neighbors.

Just as things spiraled completely out of control, on the verge of turning into an even greater tragedy, the thunderous roar of an aircraft shattered the night.

Ivy looked up at the pitch-black sky. Sure enoughโ€“a helicopter was slicing through the darkness!

Overjoyed, she shoved past the bodyguards and dashed toward Jamison, shielding him with her own body.

โ€œWhat are you doing here? This is dangerous!โ€ Jamison barked as soon as he saw her, his voice sharp with worry. He immediately wrapped his arms protectively around her.

The helicopter hovered above them, its blades churning the air so violently that branches whipped in frenzy and the people below staggered, struggling to stay upright.

The elderly, the frail, and the sick lost all will to fight.

Within seconds, a team of SWAT officers rappelled down, taking swift control of the situation.

The more quick-witted villagers dropped their makeshift weapons, scooped up their children, and bolted.

The slower ones were rounded up by the police, ordered to kneel with their hands clasped behind their heads.

โ€œJamison, are you okay?โ€ As the chaos subsided, Ivy snapped back to herself, immediately turning to check on him, her voice trembling with emotion.

โ€œIโ€™m fine,โ€ Jamison replied, his face tense as he looked her over anxiously. โ€œWhat about you? Are you hurt?โ€

โ€œIโ€™m not, but you-โ€

Before she could finish, Jamison suddenly remembered the dying old man. His expression sharpened, and he rushed over without another word.

Warren, who was kneeling by the manโ€™s side, quickly moved aside to give him space.

โ€œDr. Ludwig, is there still hope?โ€ Warren asked tensely.

Jamisonโ€™s face was grave. He crouched down, listening for a heartbeat, checking the manโ€™s carotid pulse, and pulling back an eyelid.

The helicopterโ€™s spotlight blazed overhead, bathing the clearing in harsh white light. Bloodstains soaked the back of Jamisonโ€™s shirt, starkly visible now.

โ€œDr. Ludwig, youโ€™re bleeding!โ€ Warren exclaimed in shock.

Jamison ignored him. He straightened up and shook his head quietly. โ€œItโ€™s too late. His pupils are unresponsive.โ€

Upon hearing this, the kneeling villagers broke into wails, crawling desperately toward the body and sobbing, โ€œGrandpa Walter! Grandpa Walter, wake up! Please, Grandpa Walterโ€ฆโ€

Several women joined them, weeping as they shook the old man and called his name, but nothing could bring him back.

The wind swept across the hillside, carrying their anguished cries far into the night. Ivy stepped forward, her eyes cold as she took in the scene. To her, these people had brought this on themselves. Jamison, in her mind, had already done more than enough.

โ€œYouโ€™re bleeding, Jamison. Why are you still worrying about him?โ€ She gently supported his arm, her gaze full of concern and guilt as she looked at the blood soaking through his shirt.

โ€œItโ€™s nothing, just a scratchโ€ฆโ€ Jamison tried to reassure her, but the lines of pain etched into his brow betrayed how much it really hurt.

Ivy grew anxious, wanting to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. But a glance around told her that several injured officers and villagers still needed help.

Without a landing pad in the woods, the helicopter couldnโ€™t touch downโ€“it had to circle above, waiting.

Otherwise, they couldโ€™ve flown Jamison out immediately.

Fortunately, Derek called to say the mountain road blocked by falling rocks had been cleared; the convoy waiting outside was now on its way.

Sure enough, within minutes, the shrill wail of police sirens echoed through the forest, breaking the mountainโ€™s silence once more.

The reinforcements arrived, quickly handcuffing the ringleaders and hauling them away.

One of the most notorious troublemakers, seeing a familiar face among the officers, began to shout at the top of his lungs, โ€œOfficer Lewis! Mr. Lewis, help me! It was them, they started it! The police threw the first punch!โ€

The man called Mr. Lewis blanched, denying everything in a panic. โ€œWho are you?! I donโ€™t know you! Stop calling my name!โ€


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