Although Calista's face was smeared with grime, her striking gray-blue eyes were still unmistakable.
She stepped forward and, with a gloved hand, roughly yanked the filthy dark red silk scarf from Lorenzo's neck.
"Secure them," Calista said coldly, her voice muffled through the cloth over her face.
Leah, Carver, and Mike quickly bound Lorenzo and the other three with plastic zip ties, locking down both hands and feet before conducting a thorough search.
Bossie stood guard at the corridor with his weapon raised, watching for any movement—human or walker.
"Fuck… you're human!" Wagner spat out a mouthful of blood, shaking his dizzy head as realization hit him. The humiliation of being played surged up inside him.
Lorenzo had no weapon. But just as Carver moved in to grab him, a flash of manic madness burst into Lorenzo's eyes.
Instead of dodging, he roared and lunged forward, trying to smash his head into Carver.
"You rats! Filthy liars! Maggots ruining everything I built!"
The resistance was meaningless.
Carver twisted his arm and slammed him to the ground, grinding his face against the cold, sticky floor.
But then—
something unexpected happened.
After the initial struggle, Lorenzo's violent trembling slowly subsided.
He stopped shouting.
And then… he started laughing.
A low, suppressed laugh.
"Heh… hahaha… HAHAHAHA!"
The laughter grew louder, filled with twisted exhilaration and relief.
"So it's people… it's you! Not some curse from God… you!"
He jerked his head up.
Even with his face pressed to the floor, his eyes were terrifyingly bright, burning with excitement and a warped curiosity, like he had just discovered something fascinating beyond measure.
The hysteria was gone.
In its place was a strange, restored composure—his own version of "order," even in defeat.
"Brilliant… absolutely brilliant! Wearing walker skin, guiding a horde to destroy me… Genius. Pure genius. There's art in this!"
His voice came out distorted, but it was filled with admiration… even praise.
"So… all of this was your doing? For what? Revenge? Or… you want what I have?"
Before he could finish, Leah yanked him upright.
Lorenzo didn't care about the rough handling. He straightened as much as he could, forcing a social smile toward Calista.
"My dear lady, I must admit—you've given me a lesson I'll never forget. Now… would you satisfy my curiosity? What is it you want?"
Calista stared at him coldly.
"First, your people attacked mine a few days ago. Second, I heard your weapons production line is worth something."
Lorenzo raised a brow, his smile turning playful.
"Oh? Interested in my toys? That's a shame. The equipment and stock there are probably already—"
"The production line is under our control," Calista cut in. "And we've taken all the workers with us."
Lorenzo's smile froze.
For the first time, something real flickered in his eyes.
Pain.
The East Knoxville production line was his foundation—one of the pillars of his power in the United States.
"…Well done," he said through clenched teeth. "So now you intend to take everything I have? Including me?"
"That depends on your value."
Calista's tone didn't change.
Lorenzo immediately understood.
That unsettling smile returned.
"My dear lady… those wonderful formulas are all here."
He tapped his temple with his bound hands.
"Only here. I am a one-of-a-kind genius.
Kill me, and all you'll have is scrap and inferior imitations. Keep me… and you gain a true arsenal."
He was gambling.
Betting everything on his own worth.
And he believed she would choose correctly.
The Calabria family always had value.
Calista watched him in silence, weighing his words.
The air seemed to freeze.
Seeing that, Lorenzo added casually,
"If your camp still has any kind of security system, I can improve it. I'm not just about weapons… I know a bit of IT too."
From the look on his face, it was clearly more than "a bit."
Carver snorted.
"It's the apocalypse. What system?"
Lorenzo didn't respond. Nor was he shaken.
A man like him had absolute, almost pathological confidence in himself.
After a long moment, Calista made her decision.
"Take them. Strip this place of anything useful. We're leaving."
Leah and the others moved immediately, shoving Lorenzo, Wagner, André, and Marco forward.
Just then—
Leah, who was searching Wagner, suddenly paused.
She studied his face, smeared with blood and sweat, barely recognizable.
Her brow furrowed slightly.
Wagner noticed her gaze through the disguise. His expression shifted.
"Wait…"
Leah spoke quietly, leaning closer.
"Wagner. Two months ago—you sold weapons to Sentinel Tactical, didn't you?"
Wagner's pupils shrank.
A memory surfaced instantly.
It hadn't been a pleasant deal.
Introduced by The Pope, yes—but back then Knoxville had just started collapsing. Everyone was scrambling, no one knew what was coming.
Buyers were everywhere.
Her price wasn't the highest.
But she had been the most dangerous.
She came with a squad of brutal mercenaries and took half his stock—half deal, half robbery—leaving him with only a few hundred thousand.
Maybe out of guilt, maybe because she learned he was collecting art for someone, she gave him Van Gogh's Irises.
At the time, that still meant something.
He had planned to flip it to Lorenzo.
But then society collapsed.
Art became worthless.
Weapons became everything.
He lost big.
"Leah Shaw?!"
His voice came out hoarse, full of disbelief.
"You're still alive?!"
Leah didn't answer.
She gave him a meaningful look, then nodded slightly to Calista.
No problem.
Lorenzo caught the exchange instantly.
He looked from Wagner to Leah, interest deepening in his eyes.
"Oh? There's history here? This just keeps getting more interesting."
Despite being captured, Lorenzo seemed almost… revitalized.
He studied Calista and her team like they were works of art.
Calista rolled her eyes.
…What a lunatic.