Perfect Omega Chapter 8.2 - Such a Noisy Courtship

It looks like he died in pain. His hands, clutching his head, seemed frozen in place as if rigor mortis had set in. The hand with the through-and-through wound was roughly bandaged. There were bloodstains on the floor, but that amount of bleeding couldn’t be the cause of death, though the visual was gruesome enough.

“You murderer!!!!”

Upon confirming his son’s irreversible death, Victor lunged. The aggressive pheromones emanating from Victor’s body reached Nick faster than his staggering run. But neither touched Nick. Instead, Victor faltered, overwhelmed by the pheromones Nick released in response. Belatedly, Victor raised a hand to cover his nose and mouth.

“What the hell is this smell?”

To mask Owen’s lingering scent, which the air purifier hadn’t fully filtered, Nick released more pheromones. The smell had been present all along, but with his defenses lowered by the recent attack, it likely felt more noxious to Victor now.

From his son’s death to Nick’s counterattack, the rapid succession of shocks seemed too much for Victor’s aging body, as he looked like he was suppressing nausea.

Nick opened one of the many pockets on his tactical pants and pulled out a pill case. He tossed it at Victor’s feet, where he seemed ready to vomit any moment. It was the suppressant Team Doc had given him earlier.

“Take it. It’ll make it easier to endure.”

Victor bent down to pick up the pill case from the floor. He turned it over, as if checking the brand, then took out a pill and swallowed it.

“How humanitarian suppressants are. They even make things easier for someone like you. They’ve passed all the clinical trials required by health authorities, so you can trust and swallow them even in a moment like this. Unlike the drugs your son made.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t know?”

“Locke didn’t even touch a single common stimulant during college. He’s a clean kid who didn’t know drugs.”

Victor seemed to be trying hard not to look at his son.

“Acid Pheromone, the nasty new drug giving the police headaches, was developed by your son. You really didn’t know?”

“Nonsense!”

Victor’s face flushed red.

“You killed my son, and now you’re trying to pin baseless accusations on him?! Who put you up to this? Owen? Was hurting my son not enough, and now you’re trying to frame him with false charges?!”

“….”

He was asking and answering himself, all wrong. Stunned, Nick just stared, and Victor, emboldened, pulled out his phone.

“I’ll call the police. I shouldn’t have been fooled into coming here by the likes of you. My lawyer knows I’m here. If you’re thinking of killing me too, you’d better think again. If I don’t contact him, he’ll bring the police here.”

The reason Victor’s lawyer knows is because Milstone told him to have one on standby. Forgetting the context in the heat of the moment, Victor pressed the call button. Hearing the dial tone, Nick walked over and pressed the end button.

“Call in ten seconds. Listen first.”

Nick took the phone from his hand.

“Your son did develop Acid Pheromone. There’s evidence in his computer proving he not only developed it but also distributed it. Evidence of illegal experiments and multiple murders is also documented in his lab logs.”

It wasn’t quite ten seconds, but Nick returned the seized phone.

“Call. If you want to call the police, go ahead. But if I were you, I’d want to verify if the evidence is real first.”

Nick jerked his chin toward the computer’s location.

“That’s your son’s computer.”

“The evidence you’re talking about could’ve been planted by you.”

Victor hesitated, not moving toward the computer, and asked back.

“John.”

At Nick’s call, John stepped up to the computer. Soon, Locke’s voice played from the monitor.

“Test Subject 4.”

Victor’s head whipped toward the sound of his son’s voice.

“Your son didn’t just keep written records. He didn’t even shy away from appearing himself. Go look at what he did. You need to see it too.”

But Victor still didn’t move.

“Thirty minutes post-administration, reactions begin. Fever. Erection. As expected from a fervent omega, rapid progression. Estimated time from full release to depletion… roughly two hours?”

Perhaps too afraid to confirm, Victor stood frozen, like someone with only his ears open.

“There are years’ worth of this. As you suspect, planting information is possible. But no matter how advanced deepfake technology is, you can’t fabricate years of video footage. There’s no training data to make deepfakes. Ask any expert. To create that level of fake data, you’d need hundreds of times more training data for AI to learn and generate fakes. But as the world knows, your son holed up on your island, meeting no one, going nowhere. He didn’t expose himself. If you want to insist otherwise, go ahead. It won’t hold up.”

The monitor continued playing Locke’s lab log video. The voice and content grated on Nick’s nerves. He signaled John to turn it off.

“Oh, did you know the recipe for Acid Pheromone is in there too?”

Victor’s head slowly turned toward Nick. His expression showed he still hadn’t decided whether to believe it. Reason and emotion were likely clashing.

“You’ll need to explain how your son could have the recipe for a new drug unknown to the world stored on his computer. Even the authorities don’t know that, but your son had it, version by version, just so you know.”

“It’s a lie.”

Victor seemed to lean toward denial. He made his choice, but his denying voice carried not an ounce of conviction.

“There’s a manufacturing lab too. Naturally, we have testimonies from staff confirming it’s your son’s lab. Evidence is secured.”

“It’s fabricated.”

“Out of curiosity, was hiring mercenaries to attack Owen just Locke’s doing, or were you in on it? You don’t appear in the experiment videos, so I know you didn’t participate there, but this part’s confusing.”

Victor looked shocked.

“Why the hell would he do that? For the chairmanship? I think I get it, but I don’t fully understand. Why torment Owen like that? Even dragging the board into it.”

“…The chairmanship doesn’t interest me.”

Victor turned to look at Locke, collapsed beyond the open door.

“Owen ruined my son. My son was stuck on this island, while Owen strutted around, thriving, doing every good deed. That’s unfair.”

“Ha! You’re living in a delusion.”

The loud scoff came from John.

“Did Owen hire you? To orchestrate all this?”

“….”

John didn’t notice, but the room’s air grew hostile. Nick clenched and unclenched his fist, restraining the pheromones trying to escape. Once he judged his anger was under control, Nick stepped forward. He strode over and roughly grabbed Victor’s arm.

Dragging the stumbling Victor, he positioned him in front of the monitor. He scrolled to the last video of the file labeled Test Subject 4 and clicked it.

“Look.”

He twisted Victor’s arm behind him to prevent him from turning away. As Victor was forced to watch, his stiff shoulders rapidly slumped.

Locke tormented an omega, referred to only as Number 4, not even by name, for a full two hours. The omega in the video was crawling on the floor after vomiting. According to Locke’s log, it was a side effect of forced imprinting. Perhaps something didn’t go as planned, as Locke shook his head and turned away. He approached the camera to turn off the recording. The final still showed a mocking but pleased expression.

“Owen didn’t ruin your son. You’re not going to claim you didn’t know Locke had sadistic tendencies, are you?”

Three broken engagements should’ve raised at least some suspicion. Catherine also recalled Locke tormenting animals as a child. Parents can’t be oblivious. Being busy is no excuse.

“Your son was broken from the start. Don’t drag my Owen into this! Locke just needed a target and an excuse. There’s plenty of evidence, so stop playing the victim!”

Nick roughly released Victor’s wrist. It wasn’t hard, but his chest heaved with excitement. While Nick paused to calm himself, Victor, now with free hands, slowly grabbed the mouse.

In the heavy silence of the lab, only intermittent clicks sounded. Lacking the courage to play videos, he read text files.

“I…”

Victor finally spoke but couldn’t continue for a while.

“…I didn’t know. Not to this extent… I didn’t know.”

“….”

He didn’t know it was this bad. So he’s admitting he knew to some extent. Nick had no response.

“Fine. I stirred up the board. It wouldn’t have made Owen step down anyway. I wasn’t interested in that position either. It was just… just.”

“Just to torment him until you felt satisfied? Now I see who Locke takes after.”

Nick finished Victor’s sentence. He knew it was harsh, but Owen was kidnapped here yesterday and nearly became one of them.

“…How did Locke die?”

“Didn’t see it. He locked himself in, and you just opened it for the first time. …Maybe an overdose of narcotic painkillers.”

“My son didn’t touch drugs.”

He says this after hearing his son developed and distributed a new drug.

“If you’re curious, call the police and get an autopsy.”

“….”

Nick is actually curious about what an autopsy would show. As the last person to confront Locke, suspicion could fall on him, but they wouldn’t link him to a definitive cause. His only issue might be some temporary hassle, but Victor’s concerns are different. Nick can guess what’s going through Victor’s silent calculations.

Calling the police would trigger an official investigation. The data here would be exposed. An autopsy might clarify the cause of death, but it would ignite a massive scandal.

Nick called Victor here to avoid that scandal and doesn’t want the police involved. Fortunately, Victor didn’t press the phone button either.

A heavy silence settled again.

“Your son is dead. Or would it have been better if he lived to face the consequences?”

“….”

The mention of his son’s death brought a flush of anger to Victor’s face, only to pale quickly.

“The records are all here. And don’t forget, there are victims.”

“….”

“You built this lab. Your money funded the development of Acid Pheromone. Kidnapping. Confinement. Assault. Murder. Of the many crimes Locke committed, how far were you involved, and from where can you prove your innocence?”

“….”

With luck, it might end with social exile. If charged as an accomplice, he’d be hauled to court for a while. That cunning mind must be vividly picturing a hellish scenario.

“Even with an invincible legal team, you can’t erase the financial records of funding Locke. Public opinion could quickly brand you a co-conspirator. As I said, Acid Pheromone has caused significant societal uproar. While you’re dragged through trials, what happens to Sarah?”

Victor, who had been listening silently, snapped his head up at his wife’s name. He hadn’t thought that far yet.

“Sarah wouldn’t handle it. She couldn’t endure it… Absolutely not!”

“….”

His voice suddenly turned resolute. It must be his omega. The bond between alpha and omega feels convenient yet somehow bitter in moments like this.

“Then shall we talk business?”

If he’s thinking, he should be wondering by now why Nick called him here.

“I don’t want to stay on this unpleasant island long, so let’s make it quick. Funerals aren’t our service, but since we’ll soon be specially related, I’ll make an exception.”

“Special relation?”

John, who had been silent, asked what that meant.

“I’m becoming part of the Rose family too.”

Victor’s eyebrows twitched disapprovingly at Nick’s response.

“Do you get now why I contacted you instead of the police? Having a nasty criminal in the family isn’t pleasant. I don’t like fact-based dishonorable scandals either.”

“…What are you proposing?”

“I’ll say this once, so listen well. Locke died in an unfortunate lab explosion. That way, society might at least show sympathy for the dead, and depending on how you play the media, he could be remembered as a young genius scientist. You and Sarah can cling to that illusion and live.”

“Explosion?”

Victor asked with a puzzled look.

“What about all the traces here?”

Nick, hands still in his pockets, gestured around with a nod.

“Security Solutions and Victor Rose have a contract. We’re blowing this place up at your personal request. We don’t know why you requested an explosion. It’s your private property, so disposal is your call. We just follow orders. But you handle silencing the few lab staff here. Use money, not murder.”

Technically, they’re accomplices too, but Nick doesn’t care to go that far. Social justice isn’t a service his company provides.

“I never thought of that. I’m not a murderer!”

Victor raised his head in protest.

Nick dismissed Victor’s excited rebuttal as odd fastidiousness in this situation.

“Material costs for the explosion will be billed separately. It’ll be in the contract. You’d better pay promptly.”

Victor nodded readily.

Imagining Victor’s shock at the invoice, one corner of Nick’s mouth curled up.

“And the service fee… I’ll take it in your Rose Pharmaceuticals shares. Transfer them to me. Conveniently, I’m your nephew-in-law.”

“What?!”

“Or are you planning to keep attending board meetings? Then this deal’s off.”

Despite the playful tone, Nick’s expression was devoid of humor. Reading it, after a brief silence, Victor slowly agreed.

“Do it now.”

“Now?”

Victor’s expression wavered, unsure if this was serious or a joke.

“Our lawyer’s on standby.”

By adding specifics, Nick made it clear this wasn’t a joke.

“But this—”

“You said your lawyer’s on standby too, right? Bring him if you want to do it face-to-face. I’ll wait. But coming here means seeing all this. Is that okay? Isn’t fewer witnesses better?”

Victor’s face flickered between embarrassment and anger before he pulled out his phone. He began dictating the contract terms.

“Tell him to coordinate fine print directly with our lawyer.”

At Nick’s interjection, Victor relayed that too before hanging up.

“Is it done now?”

“It’s done when the payment clears. I don’t move without it. Gotta trust you first. I got burned a few times early in this business.”

Victor showed displeasure, as if treated like a scammer, but Nick was stating facts. Maybe in a slightly lighter tone.

Despite their wealth, many clients delayed final payments. In the early days, unable to tolerate stalling, Nick ended up discounting to cut losses. Since service fees were mostly labor costs, it was still a loss, which made it worse.

They risked their lives, while clients haggled over the price of those lives. Who’d welcome that? After a few times, he realized they had a set price in mind from the contract’s outset.

The saying that your mindset changes between entering and leaving the bathroom still holds in this industry. So, no payment, no movement.

“Boss, Milstone.”

At the right moment, the lawyer contacted them.

The contract, negotiated between parties, didn’t take long. A few requests for wording changes came, but Victor, choosing graceful defeat, raised no major objections.

“Then, as requested, we’ll incinerate this building, Mr. Victor Rose.”

At the word “request,” Victor’s eyebrows shot up, but Nick ignored it and shifted to business mode.

“One hour. Gather what you need and leave the lab building. The mansion isn’t in the blast radius, but the explosion’s shockwave could shatter windows. You’d better leave by chopper before then.”

No sooner had Victor signed the electronic contract than Nick announced the countdown.

Surprisingly, Victor didn’t reenter Locke’s room. No final goodbye. He glanced briefly at the bedroom but left the lab without looking back.

“What, is he pissed because he had to spend his money?”

Watching, John let out an incredulous remark.

“No. That’s not it.”

It must’ve been hard to see. Defeat, loss—those feelings likely mixed together.

If Locke had even half of Victor’s pride, things might’ve been different. Nick thoroughly ignores the bedroom where Locke’s pathetic corpse lies. There’s no more anger, no feelings at all. A radio call confirmed the lab building was cleared. Only Nick’s team remains.

“Hey, Team Doc. Got the blood test results?”

Heading to Owen’s room, Nick called Team Doc.

—Yes, fortunately, no other abnormalities. Once the half-life is over, it’ll be like nothing happened.

“Best news I’ve heard. Backup team, move out first.”

—Boss, can we really use it?

Hugh’s voice, barely containing excitement, burst out.

“Contract’s signed. Use it.”

—Yee-haw!!!

Nick winced at the horse-like cry through the in-ear.

The team’s excitement was simple. They had a new rocket launcher but hadn’t fired it enough to get bored. They wanted to play with it, but it’s too expensive.

Rocket launchers are common in the field, but Javelins are rarely used. Not because of performance issues, but cost. The launcher alone costs $150,000, and each rocket is about the same. The one they’re using is a modified round with enhanced penetration and explosive power. One shot sends $400,000 into the air.

They’d been waiting for a chance, and permission just came. That was enough for a human to neigh like a horse.

“Owen?”

“No sound from inside. Since you’re here, can I go, boss?”

Cooper, pacing excitedly, was antsy for the same reason. He wanted to fire it himself.

“The Javelin strike target is Locke’s bedroom.”

“That’s a piece of cake.”

Since machine guns won’t penetrate, a rocket launcher is necessary. The data to be destroyed is concentrated in the third-floor lab, the connected bedroom, and the basement lab.

The moment Nick entered the third-floor lab, he knew the real lab was elsewhere. That room had large windows letting in too much sunlight, making it unsuitable for a lab. It looked like a living room originally connected to the bedroom, with a few instruments brought in. Nick told his team to find the real lab. Sure enough, the actual lab, doubling as the Acid Pheromone manufacturing facility, was in the basement. The server John worked on was also there.

“Since the goal is building demolition, don’t forget to set up explosives. Especially in places that look like labs, all of them.”

Nick is blowing up the structure today. The plan is to detonate explosives and rockets to melt it with flames, then pile concrete debris on top.

—That’s what we’re doing now.

Only Simon responded via radio.

“You alone?”

—Hugh and Cooper are busy picking prime viewing spots.

“….”

—Simon, what’s the observation distance for the flame ring?

Right on cue, Cooper called Simon over the open comms.

—Records say it’s visible from two kilometers out, and with current weather, it should be possible.

Simon, a firearms enthusiast, recited memorized figures over the comms.

From that brief exchange, Nick understood what was happening.

The modified Javelin is known not only for its performance but also for the spectacular flame it produces post-explosion. Unfortunately, it’s rarely used, so few on Nick’s team have seen it in action. They’re likely talking about observing the flame ring.

—It’s already feeling emotional.

—Who’s firing it?

“Take the chatter off comms.”

—Yes, boss. But did Victor really sign the contract? Is John right? Can we destroy it all?

“Yeah, it’s true. So stop talking and get to work.”

Nick hadn’t even entered the room where Owen was sleeping due to this, but he maxed out his patience to confirm again.

—Great. Awesome.

—But boss, an explosion that big will be visible from passing ships. It could be spotted from the air too. We should prepare a response for when Homeland Security demands an explanation.

“Why would we do that? We’re just service providers who work for the money without asking questions. If the government’s curious, the island owner answers.”

—….

—….

The comms didn’t cut out, but silence followed.

—Boss, I know your negotiation skills, but just in case, this isn’t our usual operation area. I mean, it’s too close to the city. And you were out of it worrying about Chairman Rose, then distracted by other stuff. So I’m worried.

“Why’s this so long?”

—Are you sure Victor knew what he was signing for this demolition’s cost?

Nick said it’d be blown up but didn’t specify the method. Victor might be imagining a slower, more labor-intensive demolition. Failing to clarify is his own fault.

“He’ll find out when he gets the bill. That’s pocket change for him anyway.”

Of course, the bill will include the Javelin’s cost plus all operation expenses. He’ll be shocked, but compared to spending life in prison, it’s still cheap.

—Savage, boss.

Simon chimed in.

“The company president doesn’t do losing deals, so you should be grateful. Now stop talking and work.”

—Yes, boss.

—Yessir, boss!

Nick had planned to cover it personally. But when an opportunity arises, not seizing it is incompetence.

Nick reviewed operation timing with the team once more, then turned off the comms. Finally, he twisted the doorknob he’d been holding and opened it.

Owen was still asleep. Nick carefully lifted him to avoid waking him.

“All clear. You’re the last one out, boss.”

The staff member checking the building’s interior followed Nick, cradling a rifle.

When Nick opened the rooftop door, Simon’s voice came through the comms, awaiting approval.

The chopper Nick was boarding had John and Team Doc seated. The chopper they arrived in was now waiting at the dock, set to pick up the remaining staff after the job.

Nick settled in, holding Owen. Despite the propeller noise, Owen didn’t wake, but Nick wasn’t worried. Team Doc said he was fine, and above all, Nick could sense Owen was just sleeping.

“Take off.”

“Taking off.”

“Hold position once safe distance is secured.”

Nick ordered the pilot.

—Boss, we’re ready.

“Distance?”

Since the goal is building destruction, blast pressure and flying debris must be considered. Nick confirmed the team’s positions.

—Four hundred meters out.

Good enough. It fits the Javelin’s recommended firing range. With guided missiles and obstacle-avoidance features, there’s no worry about missing despite the distance.

“Safe distance secured. Holding position in hover.”

The pilot confirmed.

“Clear to fire.”

—Firing.

Cooper calmly repeated the approval.

The rocket launched from the launcher and flew to the target in autopilot instantly. It seemed instantaneous, but to the team’s eyes, the flight curve, post-launch acceleration, jet formation for the first impact, and subsequent explosion were all visible.

Among various rockets, Nick chose the modified Javelin for its two-stage detonation.

To the untrained eye, it looked like the warhead exploded on impact, but it penetrated the wall before detonating inside. It doesn’t just loudly destroy the exterior. A high-pressure jet, capable of piercing armored vehicles, first creates a small hole to breach the target’s wall, and the explosion occurs internally. All evidence in that lab will vanish not from the building’s collapse but from the internal explosion. Two more rounds followed shortly.

With slight delays, flashes sparked inside the lab building. The light came from small explosives set in load-bearing walls and columns.

Security Solutions’ clients were demanding. They wanted minimal noise, low aftershock, but certain erasure, building expertise in Nick’s company.

The lab, perched on a cliff, still looked intact externally. But inside, amplified munitions triggered chain explosions. It would collapse from within, engulfed in flames.

Sudden applause erupted in the chopper.

—Yee-haw!!!

—That’s it!!

Excited shouts rang out from both the comms and inside the chopper.

“Spectacular, boss. Truly awesome.”

Even the reserved Team Doc couldn’t hide his excitement, shouting loudly.

The flame ring began forming. A pale yellow flame shadow enveloped the building. From afar, the fire’s center looked hollow, like a donut. The flame vortex swirled and spread, turning vivid scarlet at the edges, creating a massive ring shape.

Due to the shouts from every team member except Nick, Owen woke in his arms.

“Don’t be nervous, Owen. We’re heading home now.”

Nick hadn’t asked, but a chopper floating over the sea probably wasn’t comforting for Owen. To ease any alarm upon waking, he reassured him they were going home, but Owen’s eyes were already wide.

“Nick… what’s that?”

Owen’s gaze was fixed on the flames engulfing Locke’s lab.

“Oh, we decided to demolish the building.”

“…It looks just like bursting fireworks.”

“Yeah, it’s nicknamed the flame ring.”

Owen’s voice still carried sleepiness. The languid, slow tone he used briefly upon waking was pleasant to hear.

“Owen.”

Perhaps influenced by Owen’s mood, Nick felt a bit languid and uplifted too. Above all, seeing Owen’s fearless expression sparked an impromptu idea.

Though Owen acknowledged Nick’s call, his eyes remained on the flame ring. He looked captivated, like a child watching fascinating fireworks. Not a bad moment, not a bad vibe.

“Owen, I heard there’s something called a proposal ring.”

No one around Nick would know about proposal rings separate from wedding rings. The source was, naturally, a client’s family member—an overly talkative bride-to-be.

According to her, unlike wedding rings, proposal rings are for show, so they shouldn’t be too small to boast about. No one around Nick could verify this, so the statistical reliability is near zero, but does that matter now?

—…What’s this? Comms interference?

The noisy internal comms suddenly fell silent. Then Cooper called for John.

—This isn’t what I think it is, right?

Hugh, the married one, seemed to catch on first.

—…Boss.

Simon’s voice turned serious. When Nick didn’t respond, he continued.

—Flame ring is our term. That’s not a real ring. The flashy thing that loud guy mentioned was sparkling diamonds, not toxic gas. I get what you’re trying to do, but no. We’ll explain how it’s done once we’re on the ground. Don’t do it now. I’m serious, boss.

The team desperately tried to dissuade him over comms, but Nick, unconvinced, decided to finish what he started.

“A proposal ring.”

—Oh my…

—Our Neanderthal’s kicking away his blessing.

“Owen, please accept my proposal too.”

“….”

Owen’s freshly awakened eyelids blinked a few times as he looked up at Nick. Then he turned to look at Locke’s lab again. The scarlet flames were starting to fade. Soon, the building would collapse, raising an ugly dust cloud, but it still held the ring shape.

Nick held his breath, awaiting Owen’s response. Perhaps too tired, Owen rested his head on Nick’s chest. His gaze stayed fixed over there.

“It’s beautiful.”

“….”

Only the propeller’s hum echoed for a while. All the team members, who’d been shouting like primitives discovering fire, fell silent. The pleas to stop also ceased. Only Nick’s lips curved into an endless upward arc.

“I knew you’d love it.”

It was expensive and flashy enough. He never doubted it would work.

—Uh… boss, sorry to interrupt your moment, but it doesn’t seem like Chairman Rose said he liked it?

After a silence so complete it seemed the comms equipment had broken from the explosion’s aftershock, Hugh’s voice came through again.

—Isn’t he still drugged? Team Doc, as an expert, what’s your take? This isn’t him acting under diminished capacity, is it?

“Shut up.”

With a quiet but firm tone, Owen tilted his head up to look at Nick.

“That wasn’t for you, Owen.”

Smiling, Nick raised his index finger to point at the earpiece. Owen nodded slightly in understanding. Even that small nod seemed taxing, as all his movements were slow. His body was clearly weakened.

Owen’s eyelids blinked slowly as he gazed at the fading flame ring.

“Owen, don’t push yourself. Sleep more. Next time you wake, we’ll be home.”

Nick gently pulled Owen’s head closer. The weight settling on his chest felt deeply satisfying.

Just then, the building succumbed to gravity and collapsed inward. Where the three-story structure fell, only ugly soot rose. At the cliff’s edge where Locke’s lab once stood, fragments unable to withstand the explosion and flames fell into the sea.

“Simon, check the site and withdraw.”

—…Yes, boss.

Simon responded, sounding dazed.

“Let’s go home.”

At Nick’s command, the pilot ended the hover. The chopper tilted slightly to turn, then picked up speed.