Contract Marriage with My Secret Partner in Crime-Chapter 77: Real Trouble

[Underground Chamber – Still Locked In]

Jeric paced near the sealed door, every few seconds glancing back at the empty containment pod in the center of the room. Reynold hadn’t moved from where he stood. His eyes were locked on the blue smear on the glass—his instincts were screaming.

"This place is wrong," Jeric muttered. "It’s like we’re being watched."

Reynold didn’t answer. He could feel it too. That pressure. That silence that wasn’t silent at all. It felt like standing in the center of a breathing machine, something huge and hidden, coiling in the dark.

"I’m calling for backup," Jeric said, pulling out his comm.

Nothing.

No signal.

Reynold finally spoke, his voice low. "They’ve jammed us."

"How are they jamming us underground? There’s no visible tower."

"We’re not underground anymore."

Jeric blinked. "What?"

Reynold stepped slowly toward the far wall, tapping it lightly. It didn’t sound like concrete. It was hollow. Synthetic.

And it pulsed, barely noticeable.

Suddenly, a soft chime echoed around the room.

Lights flickered on. But not in the chamber they stood in.

Behind the glass wall, a new corridor lit up. Dim, cold-white lights led further into the unknown.

Then came the sound.

Drip... drip... drip.

Jeric spun toward the sound, flashlight ready.

A pipe overhead was leaking faint blue liquid. Thick. Almost glowing.

They both backed away.

Then came a sharp clack.

A panel opened at the far end of the corridor behind the glass, revealing a hallway with fog spilling from the threshold. Another chime followed.

An invitation.

Or a trap.

Jeric looked at Reynold. "We follow it?"

Reynold didn’t hesitate. "We’re already in."

They walked in silence. The lights flickered behind them after each step they took forward, like the place was guiding them, herding them. The hallway narrowed before opening into what looked like a lounge.

Sleek chairs. A coffee table. Magazines. A fake window showing a city skyline that didn’t match their own.

Everything was too perfect. Too staged.

A screen on the wall turned on automatically.

A logo flashed—an unfamiliar insignia of a diamond with circuitry beneath it.

Then static.

Then a soothing voice:

"Welcome. We hope you enjoy your orientation."

Jeric laughed once, dryly. "Orientation for what?"

Reynold wasn’t laughing. He spotted something on the table. A photo.

Of Ted Frin.

Smiling.

Standing beside someone who looked eerily familiar.

But the face was blurred.

He flipped it over. On the back, only a symbol—three intersecting circles and a single phrase:

"The cycle never breaks. Only resets."

Jeric peered over. "What does that mean?"

Reynold slipped the photo into his coat. "Let’s keep moving."

---

[Elsewhere – Watching Room]

Sophia stood silently behind Cassius, arms crossed, as she stared at the feed.

"He took the photo," she said coolly.

Cassius gave a grin. "Told you he would. Reynold’s predictable. Too curious for his own good."

Sophia narrowed her eyes. "But not stupid."

"No," Cassius agreed. "Which makes this fun."

She tapped her nail against a glass screen. "Do you think they’ll survive the next room?"

Cassius leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "That depends. On her."

---

[Back with Reynold and Jeric – The Next Room]

The next door opened into a large space.

Walls lined with mirrors.

No windows.

No lights—just reflections bouncing back at them from every angle.

Reynold stepped forward and the door behind them slammed shut.

Jeric turned, cursed under his breath.

Then the room began to shift.

The mirrors rotated silently, sliding, locking, sliding again until it was impossible to tell where they entered or where the path even was.

"We’re being tested," Reynold murmured.

Jeric’s voice was tense. "Tested for what?"

Suddenly, a sharp tone rang out.

Then came the voice again. But this time, it was different.

It wasn’t calm.

It wasn’t welcoming.

It was amused.

"Tell us your fears."

Jeric’s flashlight flickered violently. "What the hell is going on?"

"Tell us what you regret."

The voice echoed again, closer, coming from every mirror.

Reynold stared at his reflection.

But it wasn’t moving with him anymore.

The reflection smirked.

"We already know."

Then the lights cut out.

Darkness swallowed everything.

And in the pitch black, Jeric whispered, "Reynold... someone’s in here."

A breath. Not his. Too close.

Too real.

Then came a scream.

Not from Jeric.

Not from Reynold.

A third voice—unseen.

Male. Weak. Agonized.

"Get out... get out... before they take you too."

And then silence.

--- freewebnøvel.coɱ

[Watching Room Again]

Cassius stood, suddenly serious.

Sophia looked up. "That wasn’t part of the simulation."

Cassius didn’t smile this time. "No. It wasn’t."

Sophia’s voice dropped. "You think he’s still in there?"

Cassius stared at the screen.

The one that now showed only static.

And a red warning:

"Subject #11 breach. Unknown error. Containment compromised."

Sophia spoke quietly.

"Looks like this is real trouble."

Cassius stood still for a beat, his hands resting against the edge of the console. The screen remained in static, the red warning pulsing softly like a heartbeat.

"Go," he said without turning. His voice was calm, but the edge in it was unmistakable. "Call our men. Save those two before it’s too late."

Sophia didn’t question it. She moved quickly, heels silent on the floor as she tapped in a sequence on a separate panel. Red lights lit up. A quiet alarm began to pulse through the room, low and rhythmic.

Cassius leaned closer to the main screen, whispering almost to himself. "Let’s see what they’ll do now."

---

[Underground Facility – Mirror Room]

The scream had left the air thinner somehow. Jeric’s breath came in short bursts, eyes darting between dark reflections that had gone still again.

Then the mirrors began to shift.

One by one, they folded back into the walls, melting into darkness. In just a few seconds, the maze was gone.

The space was plain now. A large empty room.

No mirrors. No lights. No sound.

Just Reynold and Jeric standing at the center.

And one more.

He was there. Standing near the far corner of the room.

Ted Frin.

Alive. Unmoving. Staring straight at them.

Reynold’s breath caught.

Jeric took a small step back, his voice barely above a whisper. "That’s... that’s him. Ted."

Ted didn’t speak. His face was expressionless, his eyes hollow. There was something different about him. Something off. His body looked tense. Like a wire stretched too far.

Jeric slowly raised his hands, palms out. "Ted? You alright? We’re here to help. You’ve been missing for weeks. Your family’s looking for you."

Ted blinked once.

And then moved.

Fast.

No warning. No sound.