I nearly lost control as I rushed over—thankfully, he was still breathing.

"Dad! Dad!" I cried out repeatedly.

My father showed no sign of response. The ground beneath him was even stained with excrement.

Miguel walked over impatiently and smacked me hard across the back with his baton, "Stop dawdling, or I'll make sure your father never wakes up again!"

I wiped away my tears and gritted my teeth, "I have no idea where the underground passage is, I haven't been back to this house in years!"

Hearing my words, he frowned deeply.

Martha snapped angrily, "You're his daughter! How could you not know, huh?"

At that moment, my cousin, bound outside the door, timidly spoke up, "I think that's right. My mom once told me that back in the last century, they buried a lot of things here."

I glared at him, my eyes nearly killing him. He fell silent at once, terrified.

Seeing my hesitation, Miguel drew a dagger from his waist. He thrust it straight toward my shoulder blade.

Gripping the dagger in pain, I felt blood spill onto the ground. 

"You dare resist?!" He kicked me three meters away in disgust.

Lying on the ground, I stared at the clock on the Rose Cottage.

Thirty minutes left.

Struggling to my feet, I had no choice but to pretend to search.

"You wasted ten minutes! Do you really want him dead?!" Miguel suddenly grabbed my father by the throat.

I lunged forward and bit down hard on his arm.

Martha yanked my hair and screamed, "You bitch! How dare you bite him?!"

The pain made me release my grip. Miguel glanced at his bleeding arm and swiftly backhanded me across the face. "At least you've got some backbone."

Martha delivered several slaps in quick succession. My cheeks swelled instantly, blood seeping from the corner of my mouth.

She shook her hand and said angrily, "My hand hurts from hitting you, so you better talk now, how do we get into the basement, or none of us will live!"

Miguel clamped his hand around my throat, choking me nearly to the point of suffocation. Still, I forced out the words, "You're dreaming... I'd rather die than tell you!"

I did know of another way down. What lay hidden in that basement was a secret. My father had told me, as long as he was alive, no one was to open it!

Miguel sneered coldly, "So you do know." He suddenly released his grip. "You're not afraid of dying, but what about your father?"

He lunged at my father, yanked him up and slammed him hard onto the sofa. 

“Dad!” I screamed reflexively. “Miguel, let him go!”

My eyes bulged with fury, but Martha forcibly bound me to the pillar. She also shoved Lucio inside.

Lucio shouted at me, "Brenda, just tell them! I don't want to die here, please."

Seeing no response from me, his expression suddenly hardened as he screamed, "Brenda, you fucking heartless bitch! You're trying to kill me."

Seeing my cousin's distorted face, my heart turned to ice.

"Your blood relatives are all here. If you don't tell me the entrance, I'll kill them first," Miguel said as he bound my cousin and my father together.

Lucio trembled and cursed me.

"We'll start with your cousin." Miguel sneered coldly and the blade instantly pierced Lucio's chest.

"Brenda, even as a ghost, I'll never let you off!" He screamed hoarsely as the blade sank another inch deeper. 

Lucio's body convulsed violently as he begged, "I don't want to die young, please help me!"

My hands clenched into fists as my mind spun in chaos.

Five minutes left, but could reinforcements arrive in time?

Miguel noticed me checking the time and suddenly changed his mind.

He looped ropes around my father and cousin's necks. Martha tightened the one around my father's.

"I'll count to three. If you don't talk, we all die!" Without giving me any time to react, he began counting down, "Three! Two! One!"

The appointed time had come, but no one came to rescue us. 

The rope tightened violently, digging into flesh. 

I watched as Lucio's face turned a terrifying purplish-red in an instant. 

The sound of suffocation pierced my eardrums. 

"Okay, I'll talk!"

After all, I couldn't just stand by and watch them die.

After being untied, I pulled a key from the secret compartment and unlocked the hidden door.

Miguel motioned for me to lead the way, while Martha was tasked with keeping watch above.

The staircase descended over a dozen steps, the air thick with the musty scent of aged paper and dust. Yet the basement held no treasure—only rows of iron shelves stacked high with yellowed case files.

"How is this possible?!" 

Miguel couldn't believe it as he frantically flipped through the papers. His face instantly drained of color.

I caught glimpses of several file covers stamped with the vivid red word "CONFIDENTIAL."

The corners of Miguel's eyes instantly turned crimson as he roared, "You're mocking me?! How dare you mock me!" 

He spun around violently, slamming me hard against the cold iron table. The force of the impact made my vision go dark.

"I didn't know... This is my first time down here... Really..."  I gasped for breath, struggling to defend myself.

"Then die!" Rage consumed him entirely.

A cold gleam flashed as a dagger plunged into my side. I collapsed instantly.

He frantically pulled out a lighter and set fire to the stacked cardboard boxes. Flames roared upward, thick smoke spreading rapidly.

"Ah!" Through the haze of consciousness, I heard Martha's wretched scream from upstairs.

"Freeze! Everyone gets down!" A thunderous roar pierced through the chaos!

I saw a group of people in police uniforms surge into the basement!

"Brenda, hang on!"

My colleague, Hans Watson, carried me steadily out of the basement. By the time I breathed in the cool night air again, I was nearly unconscious.

When I came to again, I was lying on the familiar old bed in the house, a dull ache radiating through my lower back and abdomen.

"Brenda, don't move." Hans pressed down on me urgently. "The wound on your waist is deep and your hand bones were just reset. You need rest."

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I nodded and urgently asked, "How are my father and my cousin...?"

Hans shook his head, his expression complex, about to speak. 

The door suddenly swung open and a figure I never expected strode in. It was none other than my superior, Director Marion Alexander, who usually remained stationed in the capital.

"Mr. Alexander? Why have you come personally?" I was utterly astonished.

Mr. Alexander, however, was visibly agitated as he hurried to my bedside and said, "Brenda, do you realize what you've accomplished? You've done something truly remarkable!"

His voice trembled slightly, "Your father... was my long-lost comrade-in-arms!" 

"He was a security officer in the United Front system. After an accident back then, I never managed to find him again... I never imagined he would be your father!"

I was utterly stunned, "My dad? But he... isn't he just an old man who drives around selling groceries?"

Ever since I could remember, my father was often away. When my mother was alive, she always told me he went out to "sell goods."

Mr. Alexander's eyes welled up with tears, "That was his cover identity! His alias was Donny... All these years, I've searched so desperately for him!"

I couldn't process this news at once. That seemingly ordinary father harbored such secrets?

But as a secret archaeologist myself, I understood my father.

Mr. Alexander accepted the tissue Hans offered and said solemnly, "I've already arranged for your father to be transferred to the best hospital in the city. No matter what, I will see to it that his illness is cured!"

Through Mr. Alexander's explanation, I finally understood. The basement of the old house held top-secret archives vital to national security—treasures beyond price and my father's vegetative state wasn't caused by any traffic accident.

When those documents faced imminent danger years ago, he chose to sacrifice his own health to safeguard the secrets, voluntarily plunging into this prolonged slumber.

"Brenda, your family has safeguarded these secrets with your lives—you are true heroes!" Mr. Alexander gripped my hand tightly. "The bureau has decided to recommend you for the First Class Merit Award once you've recovered from your injuries!"

A flood of emotions washed over me as I hurriedly expressed my gratitude.

After Mr. Alexander left, Hans quietly shared the follow-up details, "Miguel escaped through the drainage channel below. Martha is already in our custody, detained in the adjacent room."

"We'll be leaving shortly." 

Hans's tone was firm as he gently helped me sit up. "The wound on your waist is too deep and your hand only received emergency treatment. You need to go to the hospital for a full examination and proper medical care."

Gritting my teeth against the throbbing pain in my shoulder, I urgently grabbed his sleeve, "Miguel must have someone backing him. He couldn't have planned this meticulously alone. You must keep investigating!"

Hans sighed, handed me a cup of warm water and continued, "Our initial investigation shows his company faced a financial crisis a year ago. Rumor has it he lost nearly 10 million dollars gambling overseas."

"He might have been exploited by certain forces, or driven to desperation and took desperate measures."

So that was how it was. 

I looked at Hans and nodded, "Hans, I really owe you this time. If you hadn't arrived with your team in time, I'd likely have perished in that inferno."

He paused slightly, a faint smile touching his lips.

That smile was gentle yet fleeting, quickly giving way to his usual composed restraint.