All Chapters of My Lover Drowned Me For Greed: I'm Back To Make Him Suffer : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

​The acrid stench of methane hit Vivian's throat like a physical blow. On Evelyn’s tactical tablet, the terrain mapping lines didn't just redline; they fractured into a chaotic, pulsing web of flashing scarlet warnings.​CRACK.​Another structural iron floorboard beneath the outer row of cryogenic pods buckled upward with a sickening scream of tearing metal. The thick, dark crimson crude oil didn't just bubble; it hissed, pressurized by millions of tons of falling ice from the avalanche miles above, violently searching for any structural weakness in the deep-crust industrial core. Within seconds, the volatile liquid had pooled into an inch-deep lake around the bases of the electronic storage units.​"Julian!" Vivian’s voice cut through the panic of the rogue guards like a thin sheet of glass. Her eyes remained locked on Garrett Cross’s eldest son, who was standing on the elevated command platform. His fingers were still trembling violently over the manual detonate switch wired into the

The white glare of the plasma torch sliced through the observation glass, showering the darkened staging bay in a violent cascade of blue sparks. The heavy steel blast doors of Vault 03 shuddered, the metal groaning under the sudden, intense heat.​"He's through the primary lock pins," Leo rasped, his hands slamming onto the steering assembly of the lead transport sled. The heavy rubber tracks ground against the frost-rimed floorboards, ready to move. "The backup codes Vivian's father left behind are overriding the secondary mechanical lockdown. He’s going to drop the security perimeter within sixty seconds!"​"Let him drop it," Vivian said.​Her voice remained entirely flat, an administrative absolute that didn't waver even as the air temperature inside the cabin plunged into the deep negatives. Wrapped in the immense weight of Julian’s ballistic winter coat, she looked impossibly fragile, but her eyes were steady slates of calculation.​"Evelyn, what is the exact volume of the vented

​The crackle from the small radio receiver died into a high-pitched, metallic whine that vibrated through the close quarters of the maintenance tunnel. Mia cowered on the floorboards of her small chassis, her fingers clawed into her soot-stained gray wool coat as if she could pull the fabric over her ears to drown out Marcus's voice.​"He has my biometric signature," Vivian stated.​Her voice did not rise. It held the same calculation-driven chill that had guided her through the extraction from Vault 03. Inside the massive folds of Julian’s ballistic winter coat, she stood perfectly still, her blue eyes tracking the rapid drop in local atmospheric pressure on Evelyn’s portable terminal.​"Vivian, if he traded those frequencies to the Iron Fang syndicate, they don't just have your name," Evelyn said, her voice tight under her thermal visor. "They can use the digital handshake to bypass the external secondary perimeter valves of Aegis Hub 01 from the surface station. They’re going to dra

​The tracked industrial sled slammed into a deep depression in the unmapped transit tracks, jarring the small cabin and forcing Vivian to catch herself against the metal frame of the main vanguard bio-pod. Outside the thick, frost-patterned plexiglass windows, the freezing darkness of the continental wasteland had swallowed the mountain ridges entirely, replaced by a screaming whiteout that dropped visibility to absolute zero.​"He’s losing too much heat," Vivian said, her administrative voice dropping into a sharp, rapid register.​She didn't look at the window. Her hands—slipping slightly in the warm, dark crimson fluid slicking the floorboards—pressed a heavy, sterile gauze pad deep into the laceration across Julian’s right shoulder. The blood was trying to clot, but the severe sub-zero air leaking through the cabin's emergency seals threatened to freeze the fluids before the tissue could close.​"Evelyn, isolate the cabin’s auxiliary thermal loop," Vivian commanded without turning

​The purple strobe of the warning beacon sliced through the cabin, painting Julian’s pale, sweat-slicked face in jagged intervals of violet and shadow.​"Eighty seconds!" Evelyn’s voice crossed into a panicked register. She slammed her hand against the auxiliary diagnostic board. "The locking mandrel isn't just jammed—the surface explosion caused an entire structural support strut to cave in over the primary tracking rail. The pneumatic gates are fighting forty tons of debris!"​"Leo, cut the engine line completely," Vivian ordered. Her voice was an absolute frost, cutting through the mechanical alarms. "The kinetic momentum of the sled will only crush our own bumper against the blockage. We clear the threshold on foot."​"Vance, you aren't clearing anything on foot," Julian growled.​He forced his massive frame up from the deck plates, his left hand locking unyieldingly around her waist before her boots could even touch the exit track. His touch was a desperate, territorial anchor. Th