But then again, considering Matthew's monster-like physique, it didn't seem like much of a problem.
Roscoe was still lost in her wandering thoughts when Reacher spoke again. "Neagley, you need to hurry."
"You're starting to sound more and more like the boss, Reacher."
Neagley complained briefly, then imdiately got to work. She opened her laptop, handed it to Reacher, and turned her gaze to the overweight Eastern European man. "That's him?"
"Dreykov." Reacher gave a firm answer.
"Okay. Looks like you've put this bastard through quite a bit already."
Neagley looked at Dreykov with clear disgust. There were obvious signs of torture on him—his face pale and drained, clearly having endured severe interrogation.
She knew exactly what he had done. There wasn't a trace of sympathy in her.
"Let Antonia go. I've already told you everything." Dreykov lifted his head and looked at the intruders in his ho, speaking weakly.
"Papa…"
His eight-year-old daughter, Antonia, called out in fear, her voice trembling.
"A man like you can put on whatever act you want, but it won't earn you a speck of pity. All I see in you is cunning and posturing," Reacher said dismissively.
A scher like Dreykov had no real sense of family—only interests.
This act of his was nothing more than an attempt to gain sympathy, to secure a sliver of survival.
Natasha remained silent. The nightmare of her past now stood before her in such a state. All she felt was a sense of grim satisfaction.
As for Antonia, her feelings were complicated. She didn't know what to do.
Natasha was not soone who hesitated, but her past experiences—and the kindness she still carried deep down—left her wavering now.
Hatred… or an innocent child. Which should she choose?
"Old man, your pathetic act just makes people sick."
Neagley didn't care about any of that. She was busy enough as it was.
If not for the boss, she would still be tracking down Isaiah.
She looked at Reacher, who understood her aning. He signaled to a few soldiers, and the rest of the team imdiately escorted the servants and Antonia out of the villa.
Antonia struggled as she was taken away, crying out for her father, her small face filled with fear and unease.
Soon, only Reacher, Roscoe, Natasha, and a few core mbers remained in the living room with Dreykov.
"Now, let's witness a miracle. Let see just how many lies you've told."
Neagley interlocked her fingers and stretched them forward, her knuckles cracking sharply. Then, with one hand, she grabbed Dreykov by the hair. Under his disbelieving gaze, she drove her other hand straight into his head—her entire hand sinking inside.
Dreykov's expression instantly twisted in unbearable agony.
Natasha and Roscoe couldn't help but widen their eyes.
The scene was deeply disturbing.
Even more shocking was what ca next—when Neagley pulled her hand back out, she was holding a long strip of film. Fra after fra of images ran along it.
Even Reacher felt a chill, the corner of his mouth twitching involuntarily.
"Wow… you really are rotten to the core. Just look at how many terrible things you've done in your life—the Black Widow Program, global infiltration plans, all these hidden assets, safe houses, and the number of high-ranking figures you've brought under your control."
"The Red Room's aerial base, pheromone-based mind control research… in that regard, you're a real genius."
Neagley examined Dreykov's mories piece by piece. After finishing, she couldn't help but click her tongue in amazent.
The old man's ambitions were truly vast. Using his resources and military background, he had gradually built up his own private ard force.
From there, he began infiltrating every level of Russia, especially after cultivating the Black Widows. Through their network, he extended his reach into governnts, militaries, intelligence agencies, and financial systems across various countries.
He manipulated coups, assassinations, wars, and even energy prices.
The scale had already taken shape. Give him another ten years, and the assets under his control would likely reach a terrifying level.
By then, calling him a shadow ruler wouldn't be an exaggeration.
Neagley had seen her share of powerful figures. After all, the first person whose mories she read after obtaining her ability was Alexander Pierce—
one of Hydra's leaders.
His influence had been equally astonishing.
While Dreykov couldn't compare to Hydra, he was already far more formidable than most ordinary powers.
Especially since the path he chose was a clever one.
Dreykov had already reached the ceiling of his political career. Advancing further was nearly impossible.
So he wisely chose another path—and pursued it with determination.
And he had succeeded.
At the very least, this path could have led him to becoming a shadow dictator.
Unfortunately, the fruits he had cultivated were about to be harvested by her boss.
However, when Neagley reached a particular mory, her hand paused. Then, as if nothing had happened, she edited and cut the mory, tossing the altered strip of film back into Dreykov's head.
Dreykov imdiately collapsed unconscious.
Ignoring his limp body, Neagley took back the laptop from Reacher and walked over to the dining table in the living room, rapidly typing away.
In less than ten minutes, she had successfully stored every secret she had extracted from Dreykov's mind and retrieved a specific data file.
"Is it finished?" Reacher asked as Neagley stopped typing.
"Mm-hmm. I'll transfer all the information to you."
After speaking, Neagley looked at Natasha. She hesitated slightly before saying, "I found sothing in his mory about you. You might want to prepare yourself."
"What is it?"
Natasha's body stiffened, as if she had already guessed sothing.
As expected, Neagley let out a soft sigh before answering, "Your family."
"He told you that when you were still an infant, Dreykov bought you from your biological parents—that you were abandoned by them. That's not true. He only bought you from your father."
"Your mother didn't know about it. When she found out, she tried to get you back. She spent years desperately searching, relentlessly tracking the Red Room."
Neagley's voice was quiet, recounting a tragic past.
Natasha's alluring eyes were already glistening with tears. She bit her lower lip lightly, her expression fractured with sorrow.
Neagley continued, her words cruel yet deeply moving.
"Normally, a civilian's curiosity wouldn't get them killed. But she was too persistent. So Dreykov gave the order… your mother was killed and buried, her grave marked as 'Unknown.'"
After she finished speaking, silence fell over the room.
Reacher and Roscoe both let out quiet sighs, mourning for that great mother.
If not for Neagley, this truth might have remained buried forever in the passage of history.
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