Chapter 236: What Did You Do to My Sheep?

The heavy atmosphere in the room made Vera feel even more downcast. Only now did she realize just how much more troublesome things were than she had imagined.

Yet she was reluctant to step forward and take action at this moment. Although her relationship with Gap had grown distant due to his betrayal, they were still legally married, and she still bore some responsibility.

Even a small amount of responsibility was enough to make her keep secrets—especially for the sake of their child.

In the Baylor Federation, many deep-rooted societal problems existed, though they were rarely reported.

But lack of coverage didn’t mean they didn’t exist. The most serious among them was school bullying.

Especially for children with stains on their background—they were easily targeted by other kids, and even teachers often turned a blind eye.

The number one stain was having a father who was a criminal and currently serving time.

This meant the child lacked male protection. In this male-dominated society, it was effectively an invitation to bully the child and even the mother without fear of consequences.

No aggressive man would storm into the school swinging a bat to defend them. No man in a suit and tie would show up with a lawyer to sue the bullies and the school.

On top of that, people held the absurd belief that criminal behavior was hereditary, further aggravating the problem.

Even teachers viewed such students with bias and indifference. Not all teachers were saints—most were just ordinary people, no different from anyone on the street.

For her child’s sake, at least for now, Vera would not consider exposing the truth.

Vera soon stood and took her leave. Lynch didn’t stop her—nor would it have been appropriate to. He quickly turned his attention back to the unfinished work on his desk.

At the same time, on the outskirts of the city, Gap was curled up in a sheep pen, shivering. Ironically, an absurd knight novel he’d read in school had saved his life.

As January approached, temperatures in Sabin had dropped to freezing. Without proper insulation, spending a night outside would likely mean never waking up again.

In that book, the protagonist had squeezed into a flock of sheep during winter and survived. At the time, Gap had scoffed—who would be that dumb? Just wear more clothes!

Now, he realized it wasn’t the book that was dumb. It was him—he’d never been in that situation before.

Clutching a sheep, Gap felt warmth like never before. He longed for it more than ever, yet he was also lost.

He didn’t know where he had found the courage to escape—but now that he had, he had no idea what to do next.

Report it to the police?

That might work. But as a forensic accountant, he knew that once he confessed what he’d done, even if he wasn’t the mastermind, he’d still face serious charges—and lose his CPA license.

No legitimate company would ever hire a disgraced accountant with a criminal record.

Sure, the gangs might not care, but that was a path he refused to take.

Talk to Mr. Neo?

He’d escaped from Neo and even cut a guard’s face with a shard of his glasses. If all he wanted was a talk, why hide for so long?

Besides, he had a gut feeling—if Neo ever found him again, he might truly disappear for good.

So what should he do? Pretend nothing ever happened?

Would the police or Neo buy that?

Everything had changed. For the first time, Gap felt utterly powerless, as if he had lost control of everything.

He was anxious, his heart racing, head pounding.

His mind grew sluggish, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, and eventually, he fell asleep in the warmth.

Just then, a group of young people approached the sheep pen, armed with sticks.

Leading them was a country girl in rough linen clothes, around seventeen or eighteen. She had flaxen hair in two long braids tied at her waist, a square kerchief on her head, and a heavy, dirty skirt. Freckles and dust couldn’t hide the liveliness in her eyes.

She looked like any ordinary farm girl—common and unremarkable.

Beside her was her younger brother and kids from nearby farms—natural socializers who could make friends across any distance.

They had gathered because the farm girl had recently discovered something too embarrassing to discuss with adults—she suspected someone was violating her family’s sheep.

She couldn’t bring herself to tell her parents, so she confided in her peers.

In fact, engaging in inappropriate acts with sheep or cows wasn’t unheard of in the Baylor Federation or even the world—especially in poor pastoral areas, where it had become a morbid pastime for herding children.

A small bit of twisted color in an otherwise lifeless gray world.

But the girl couldn’t accept someone doing that to her sheep. So she rallied her friends to catch the pervert who had disgraced them.

“Seems quiet now…” she muttered, peeking into the pen. The sheep pen was still and silent in the cold night.

A few rams at the edge of the flock opened their eyes, their square pupils watching the children for a moment before closing again.

It was too cold. The children tiptoed through the moonlight in search of the intruder. Before long, they stumbled upon a scene that disgusted them.

A shirtless man was sleeping while hugging a sheep. They couldn’t help but imagine the worst. The farm girl was furious. She raised her stick high—

Thud.

Gap, deep in a dream, suddenly felt the world go dark. His soul seemed to be ripped from his body by a great force, drifting in endless black.

A surge of pain snapped him awake, but before he could understand what was happening, a brutal beating began.

His anguished screams echoed for miles—so much so that, in time, a local legend emerged:

Every winter night, a ghost wanders near the sheep pen. If you encounter it, it will devour your flesh and make you its next meal.

Years later, this tale was included in Seventy-Two Strange Stories and became one of Sabin’s local horror legends.

But that’s all in the future.

As for now…Only one pitiful man had been woken by a beating in his sleep—only to be beaten unconscious again.

Neo’s private security team had nearly turned the area upside down. They had searched both sides of the highway multiple times, but not a single trace of Gap could be found.

It was as if Gap had vanished into the vast wilderness. Worse still, troubling news came from the police department.

The girl who filed the report hadn’t just accused Gap. She also named his direct superior, the department head, and two board members.

In truth, others were involved as well. In the twisted culture of corporate sexual domination games, the status of the dominated often meant less than private parts themselves. Sharing had become the norm.

Not only did Gap pass the girl along to others, others did the same with their own girls to Gap. This was a peculiar kind of “corporate culture” that people might deny out of shame, but denial didn’t erase its existence.

Currently, Gap’s direct superior had also been arrested. With the local authorities and the FBI receiving a green light from regional leaders, their methods became far more aggressive.

Gap’s slightly overweight boss didn’t last long. After slipping in the bathroom four times and provoking fellow detainees into beating him repeatedly in the holding cell, he finally broke.

He confessed to what he knew—because, for him, confessing first at least allowed him to shift part of the blame.

The investigation team reaffirmed Gap’s importance and issued a new warrant. At the same time, they launched a formal investigation centered on the girl’s case, which further delayed Liston’s relocation efforts.

They needed to resolve these issues—or at the very least, establish that the incidents had no direct ties to the company. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to move forward. But doing so would be no easy task.

Everything seemed to be spiraling against the Liston Group. Even President Neo could sense a subtle shift in attitude from the conservative governor of the neighboring state—something that only made him more anxious.

But none of it could be resolved quickly. It wasn’t like he had told others—that he could walk away anytime. The truth was, he couldn’t.

The moment he started falsifying reports years ago, his fate had become inextricably tied to Liston Group.

If the group lived, he lived.

If the group fell, there was no reason for him to exist.

Bit by bit, he felt himself being pushed to the edge of a cliff.