Meanwhile, Thomas Green gripped his cup tightly, his hands trembling slightly. The shocking news had rattled him.
How had such a massive shipment of drugs, in collaboration with foreign groups, suddenly made its way into the country?
Four years ago, he had gone undercover in this criminal syndicate. The organization was vast, having successfully laundered its image to become the city's leading conglomerate. It boasted numerous subsidiaries across over a dozen industries. He had been ordered to infiltrate the conglomerate's logistics division due to earlier evidence suggesting its involvement in smuggling, money laundering, murder, and other organized crimes.
For four years, he had infiltrated deeper into the inner circles, painstakingly gathering fragments of clues. It felt as if he had only managed to graze the insignificant surface of a massive enigma. Exercising extreme caution, he kept his composure, knowing he couldn't rush things. As a result, he withheld information from the police during his early encounters with smuggling operations. As his importance within the organization grew, he was assigned to assist a supervisor named D in overseeing the transport of an entire shipment of drugs. The sheer scale of the shipment was staggering.
An entire shipment of drugs? The implications were mind-boggling. Scalien was notoriously strict about drug trafficking, with even small quantities resulting in execution. Furthermore, D was only one of the key figures in the transport company; above him were many other unknown higher-ups. If the transport company alone was this well-organized, the entire group must be a seamless, high-speed criminal machine.
Thomas knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No matter how terrifying this organization appeared, if he could pry open even a corner of the iceberg, it would pave the way to shattering the entire operation. He seized the opportunity to contact his superiors and passed on the information. What unsettled him even more was the audacity and aggression of these foreign criminal forces in transporting such a massive quantity of drugs so suddenly. There had to be deeper, more sinister schemes hidden behind this operation.
On the day of the delivery, the weather was calm and sunny. As the ship approached, he could hardly believe his eyes. In broad daylight, it sailed into the port like an ordinary cargo vessel, passing the maritime inspections with ease before unloading and registering its goods without a hitch. The drugs had openly entered the port—had the customs inspectors and officers not noticed anything unusual?
The date was correct, but he had assumed the drugs would arrive under the cover of night. Never had he imagined such a brazen daytime operation. As the shipment moved from customs to the warehouse, a second inspection was required. The inspectors routinely opened the containers before allowing the goods to be loaded onto trucks. Thomas silently observed as the inspectors opened the containers and meticulously checked the items. They confirmed that the goods, labeled as imported ornaments, matched the seals. How had it turned into regular cargo in broad daylight? He had only received instructions to bring the transport truck and wait. Yet, he clearly remembered D's orders for everyone to be cautious and ensure the safe delivery of this batch of drugs. Could the previous intel have been a deliberate ruse?
However, an hour before departure, all their communication devices had been confiscated, and they were confined to a single room. The transport teams were paired up, each member monitoring the other, leaving no way to relay information outside. This clearly signaled that something major was underway. Thomas was still puzzled as he drove back, unable to make sense of the situation. However, it was fortunate that the sudden development had caught the police off guard, leaving them without time to set up an ambush, thus avoiding alerting the enemy prematurely.
But by nightfall, Thomas was forced to his knees and pinned to the ground. D towered over him, speaking with scorn. "Badge number 73621? Never thought I'd find a rat in my group."
Thomas felt a chill spread through his body. He couldn't pinpoint where he had been exposed, but judging by the boldness of the daylight operation, it was clear they were wary of a police undercover. What puzzled him even more was the whereabouts of the rumored shipment of drugs—when had it actually entered the country?
"You're thinking about that batch of drugs, aren't you?" A voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts. Unnoticed until now, a middle-aged man was sitting in the center seat, smiling warmly at Thomas. Yet that smile sent a shiver down his spine.
"What's the story with that shipment? I only regret not leaking more intel over the years," Thomas replied, making no effort to resist. From the moment the man addressed him by his police badge number, he knew his cover was completely blown. But his exposure didn't matter; what mattered was protecting the other operatives embedded in the organization. He had to do everything possible to conceal their existence.
"Didn't you already deliver the drugs yourself earlier today?"
Thomas struggled to lift his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had been suspicious of the cargo earlier and had even considered risking everything to send out intel if he confirmed the drugs' presence. But during customs and inspection, he had observed from a distance—what they found were ornaments and trinkets, seemingly ordinary and unremarkable. Afraid that the situation was a mix of truth and deception, he had deliberately refrained from transmitting any information at the time. So how on earth had his cover been blown?
The man's smile vanished as he stood up and glanced at D before leaving. "Make sure to properly entertain our officer here," he instructed.
D grabbed Thomas by the hair, his face twisted in a vicious sneer. He slapped him hard and snarled, "What, you still think you can protect those other filthy cops? Let me tell you, all your secrets have been sold out. If I didn't want to make sure I cleaned house completely, you'd already be dead."
What did he mean? What did he mean by "all your secrets have been sold out"?
Thomas began to struggle violently, but a heavy blow to the head silenced him. Before he could react, a sharp knife stabbed into his palm. He didn't even have time to scream as his mouth was tightly gagged. He watched in horror as drugs were injected into his body. His world spun, his footing felt weightless, and the searing pain tearing through his body seemed distant. He was both exhilarated and tormented. Needle after needle, flail after flail, and even pipes pouring alcohol into his rectum—he was subjected to relentless abuse. By the end of an entire day and night, Thomas was left battered and broken, his body convulsing on the ground. Nearby, fierce dogs barked and growled, eager to pounce.
"Be good, babies, you're about to feast," D cooed as he let go of the leash. His subordinates followed suit, releasing the rabid dogs, which charged at the barely-breathing Thomas, tearing into him with savage bites.
Thomas's consciousness was crumbling. In fragments of awareness, he overheard conversations from the previous night, phone calls hinting that his fellow undercover colleagues had been captured and subjected to inhumane treatment. He didn't know who they were, but he knew they were just like him. Every anti-narcotics officer risked their life to uphold this belief. He couldn't help but wonder if the predecessors who had sacrificed themselves had also endured such lucid yet harrowing despair.
As he closed his eyes and succumbed to darkness, Thomas wondered if even his body would remain unfound. Though no one might ever know what they had done, he prayed that the mountains and rivers would protect his beloved homeland, ensuring it remained strong and its people free from the scourge of drugs.
Elsewhere, AE hung up the phone and turned his gaze to Nicholas, who was sitting across from him munching on a watermelon. AE sneered, "I've spoken with a few partners. The drugs entered without a hitch, and their respective organizations have flushed out all the undercover agents. You really know your way around Scalien's officials."
Nicholas casually tossed the watermelon rind onto the table and wiped his hands, speaking with indifference: "A country, you see, has its own flaws whether in chaos or peace. When people get too comfortable, they only grow greedier. Since Scalien's founding, power transitions have been too smooth—no party struggles, no military influence. Even the neighboring nations have quieted down under Marcellus's military pressure in recent years. With no external threats or internal strife, the passion for defending the homeland is only a concern for those at the top and the bottom. The officials in the middle? All they care about is power and money. To them, the people are worth nothing."
"So you're using that intel to keep Scalien's agencies in line?"
"To them, it's just a matter of mutual exchange," Nicholas continued with a smirk. "Take the police chief, for instance. All he has to do is casually let slip the number of undercover agents. He's not the one identifying them, nor the one killing and disposing of bodies. Just a simple number, and he gets the chance to erase all evidence of the corruption and bribery he's accumulated over the years through abuse of power. What a bargain." He paused, glancing at the goods nearby. "As for this batch of drugs, it doesn't quite look like the usual stuff circulating on the market."
AE removed his mask, revealing the excessively handsome face of Julius. Yet, at this moment, his face bore a malicious smile. "Doesn't it look familiar to you?" he sneered. "That drug is the same one you took from me over three years ago to deal with Merrick. I've made some improvements and mass-produced it. Originally, Arabella asked me to prepare a batch of drugs, so I planned to use this. But she didn't follow through, switching to some powdered milk instead. Hmph, someone like her still pretending to care about protecting her country?"
Nicholas was initially shocked that Julius had adapted the nerve-damaging substance into a drug, far more devastating than mere addiction. Hearing Julius complain about Arabella not using his drugs, he laughed heartily. "Who said she's protecting her country? That woman never makes a move without a reason."
Julius frowned in curiosity and asked, "But that batch of formula was smuggled into Scalien through Blade. He must have secretly inspected it to ensure it was harmless before letting it through."
Nicholas chuckled coldly. "That's exactly why having Blade smuggle it in was the most effective move."
