Todos los capítulos de Sold to the Disfigured Billionaire: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

The Yukon Territory, Canada. An Abandoned Mining Town. Two Days After Deepwater 9.The heavy-lift helicopter sat smoking in the snow. Its fuel tanks were dry. Jack had piloted them to the only place he knew in this sector: Silver Creek, a ghost town from the Gold Rush era.Inside the dilapidated Saloon (which still had a roof and a wood stove), the air smelled of burning flesh and ozone.Sebastian sat on a sturdy oak table. He was conscious, but barely. The Ratnik-3 Exoskeleton was dead. The battle with the Warden and the explosion had fused parts of the metal chassis to his underlying tactical suit, and in some places, through to his skin. He was trapped in his own armor."The servos are locked," Dr. Braun said, his hands shaking as he held an industrial angle grinder (found in the town's workshop). "I can't unclasp it. I have to cut it off." "And I have no anesthesia."Sebastian gripped the edge of the table. His face was pale, sweat dripping down his nose. "Just do it, Doc," he gri

Avignon, France. The Palais des Papes (Palace of the Popes). 11:00 AM.The mistral wind blew through the ancient stone arches, carrying the scent of lavender and dry earth. Tourists swarmed the massive Gothic fortress, taking selfies and listening to audio guides in a dozen languages.Among them walked a strange family, blending into the crowd. An old woman in a wheelchair (Catherine), humming quietly under a sun hat. A young couple pushing her (Sebastian and Harper). Sebastian wore a long trench coat to hide his bandages; Harper wore a simple sundress but scanned the perimeter like a hawk. A rough-looking man in a flannel shirt who looked like he wanted to punch a mime (Jack). And a nervous man reading a guidebook upside down (Dr. Braun)."This place is a fortress," Sebastian whispered, scanning the high walls. "Fourteenth-century security. Thick walls. Narrow arrow slits. Designed to keep armies out.""And to keep secrets in," Harper looked up at the towering spires. She felt a stra

The Templar Crypt. Avignon. The Nazi Laboratory. 12:30 PM.HISS. The wax seal broke. The heavy lead lid of the golden vessel slid open with a sound like a dying breath. Cold, blue mist poured out, heavier than air, cascading down the sides of the altar.They leaned in. Inside the vessel, floating in a suspension of viscous black liquid, was a stone. But it wasn't a gemstone. It wasn't gold. It was jagged, dark, and pulsing with a faint, rhythmic blue light. A Meteorite. About the size of a human heart."It's... alive," Dr. Braun whispered, his Geiger counter clicking frantically. "Radiation levels are spiking, but it's not gamma. It's... unknown.""It fell from the sky," Catherine said softly, her eyes reflecting the blue glow. "In the year 1119. The Templars found it in a crater in the desert. They called it the Star of Bethlehem." "But it wasn't a star. It was a seed.""Panspermia," Braun realized, his scientific curiosity overriding his fear. "The theory that life exists throughout

The Catacombs. The Nullifier Chamber. 12:45 AM.HUMMMMMMM. The sound was felt before it was heard. The massive brass tuning forks of the Nullifier began to vibrate. Dust fell from the ceiling. The skulls lining the walls rattled in their sockets like chattering teeth.Harper stood at the console, her hand impaled on the needle. Her veins were glowing violet. She screamed as the machine drew bio-energy directly from her blood to calibrate the frequency. [ RESONANCE: 40%... 45%... ]"Hold them back!" Sebastian roared.He stood in the center of the room, facing the horde of Hollows. He didn't fire his gun. It was empty. He raised his hand. His skin was turning grey. Blue crystal shards were pushing through the pores of his knuckles. The infection was accelerating. The closer the machine got to the Source's frequency, the more the virus inside him reacted."HALT!" Sebastian commanded. His voice wasn't human. It was a digital, distorted growl.The front row of Hollows froze. Their glowing

New York City. Queens. A Safehouse in a Basement Apartment. Two Weeks Later. Rainy Night.The neon sign of a laundromat flickered outside the grimy window. Inside, the room was small, smelling of takeout Chinese food and damp concrete. It was a far cry from the penthouses and palaces they were used to.Jack was polishing his sniper rifle on the kitchen table. He was wearing a "I Love NY" t-shirt that was two sizes too small. "I hate this city," Jack grumbled. "Too many people. No trees. And the rats here are bigger than the wolves in Alaska.""It's a concrete jungle, Jack," Harper sat on a worn-out sofa, sewing a hem on a dress. She looked tired but focused. "You just have to learn how to hunt in it."Sebastian stood by the wall, pinning photos to a corkboard. Alexander Hale. The Media Tycoon. His face was everywhere. On TV, on billboards, on the internet. CNN was playing in the background: "...Sterling Corp stock plummets as rumors of Sebastian Sterling's death in France are confirme