Somewhere in the City – On the Streets
Two petty thieves are running with a stolen phone.
Thief 1:
"Man, why are there cops everywhere today? Did we miss a memo?"
Thief 2 (panicking):
"Why is that officer wearing body armor?! Why is he carrying a rocket launcher?!"
A police van screeches to a halt in front of them. Ten officers jump out like it's a SWAT movie.
Officer (yelling):
"ON THE GROUND! DROP THE NOKIA 3310!"
Thief 1 (sobbing):
"It's unbreakable! It's indestructible! You'll never take it alive!"
---
Meanwhile – Government HQ
The Minister is watching the live security footage. Police are ziplining off buildings. Drones are flying in formation. A poor street magician is being questioned for hiding rabbits in his hat.
Minister (smiling):
"Look at this. Discipline. Fear. Control."
Advisor:
"Sir, they're arresting street performers."
Minister:
"Collateral culture casualties."
---
Meanwhile – Ren's Apartment
Ren opens a packet of snacks and tosses one at the TV.
Cartoon character on screen: "What a wacky world we live in!"
Ren nods.
"So true, man. So true."
---
A Room Inside Giant Syndicate's Hideout.
The air was thick with tension and cigarette smoke. The boss sat at the head of the table, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"Well?" he asked. "We accepted his damn condition. Where is he?"
A nervous underling stepped forward, sweat pooling under his collar.
"Boss… he's dead."
The room fell silent.
"Dead?" the boss said slowly. "He was going to tell us what White Rat means."
"Yes, sir. But the police… they're purging the city. He was on the hit list."
"I thought all the gangs went underground?"
"They did, boss. But he was holed up in an abandoned building."
The boss narrowed his eyes. "And?"
The underling hesitated. The whole room leaned in, hungry for the next line of insanity.
"And... they blasted the building with a rocket launcher before he could run."
"...WHAT!?"
A chill swept through the room like someone had turned the AC to 'apocalypse.'
"They're using rocket launchers in the city now!?"
"That's not all, boss," another member chimed in, holding a tablet. "They've got high-tech drones scanning every corner. If anyone's spotted with a weapon—even a damn kitchen knife—they're shooting on sight."
The boss stood up, nearly flipping the table. "This isn't a purge. This is warfare! Did the government figure out what White Rat is? Is that why the police have turned into a private militia?"
"It has to be something valuable," someone muttered. "You don't unleash this kind of firepower unless you're protecting something huge."
Everyone turned to the boss again.
He held up his hands. "Why are you all looking at me? What do you want me to do—declare war on the government? We're powerful, yes—but not 'invincible-vs-rocket-launchers' powerful. Even Black Bear would think twice."
He scanned the room. Some eyes gleamed—not with caution, but ambition. Greed. Madness. A dangerous cocktail.
The boss sighed.
"Fine. Before one of you idiots does something stupid—track down the remaining heads of those local gangs. We need to know what White Rat actually is. I'm not launching a war over a cryptic sentence."
"Yes, boss."
He rubbed his temples, muttering under his breath. "Control. We still have control. For now."