Police sirens wailed, red and blue lights flashing against the old brick walls of the eastern district. The street was still damp from the early morning rain, carrying the heavy stench of asphalt mixed with blood. Yellow tape cordoned off the crime scene, local officers pacing nervously, their faces tense and uncertain.
Kaeliano and Teddy stepped out of the black FBI car. From the distance, music from the nightclub still pulsed faintly, clashing with the grim silence of the scene.
As Kaeliano approached, his heartbeat quickened. A woman's body lay sprawled on the pavement, her long black hair messy across her pale face. Her limbs were stiff, a faint slash along her arm, and a small stab wound beneath her ribcage.
Kaeliano froze, his steps slowing.
"That's…" he muttered under his breath.
Teddy glanced at him. "You know the victim?"
Kaeliano didn't answer right away. He lowered his head, taking a long breath. Just last night, he had seen her—beautiful, sultry, panicked, rushing out of the club while a man chased after her. And now… lying lifeless.
A local cop walked over. "We don't have a confirmed ID yet. No ID card, just a nightclub wristband. Likely came out just before… she was killed."
Kaeliano frowned, his eyes shifting to the faint tire marks on the wet asphalt. His voice dropped.
"I passed this place last night."
"She was alive. Running."
Teddy narrowed his eyes. "Did you see anything?"
Kaeliano clenched his jaw, that shadowy image of the man pursuing her flashing in his head again. He weighed whether to reveal everything—or hold back.
"Just vague," he finally replied flatly. "A car. Black. The plate was blurred."
Teddy studied him sharply, suspicion in his gaze. "Don't hold anything back, kid. Lives are at stake."
Kaeliano ignored the jab, crouching by the body instead. His gloved hand brushed over the faint scratch on her neck. His brows furrowed. The cut wasn't random. It curved slightly. Not a simple stab wound. More like… a mark.
"This wasn't some random killing," he muttered. "It's a message."
Teddy crouched beside him, his expression shifting serious. "A message from who?"
Kaeliano stood slowly, eyes lifting toward the nightclub whose neon lights still flickered against the dawn. His jaw tightened.
"From the same man… who's tearing this city apart."
The nightclub was still buzzing, even with the yellow police tape sealing the entrance. The heavy EDM beats had been muted, but the strobe lights kept flashing, painting the room in bursts of red and white. The smell of alcohol mixed with cheap perfume lingered in the air.
In the corner, a group of witnesses—bartenders, waitresses, and a few shaken patrons—sat nervously. Some trembled, others tried to act tough, but their eyes betrayed fear.
Teddy walked in first. His massive frame dominated the room, his cold gaze slicing through anyone foolish enough to meet it. The place fell into silence. Teddy was infamous—an "agency killer." Rumors claimed he had executed targets without flinching, sometimes without clearance.
He kicked a chair hard against the floor, the crack echoing.
"Listen carefully," his voice rumbled. "A woman died right outside this club. If any of you lie, if any of you waste my time…" He pressed a thick finger against a bartender's temple. "…your head will pop before the next track starts playing."
The bartender turned pale, words stuck in his throat.
Kaeliano, in contrast, didn't raise his voice. He moved silently to the waitress sobbing into her hands. He crouched down, locking eyes with her. His tone was ice-cold, surgical.
"Stop crying. You saw her last night. She ran out in a panic. Who chased her? What car? The plate?"
The waitress sniffled, trembling. "I-I… I only saw a tall man, dark suit… sharp eyes… he comes here often. Said he was someone important—"
Before she could finish, Teddy slammed a table over, the crash jolting everyone.
"WHAT'S HIS NAME?!" he roared.
"I DON'T KNOW!!" she screamed, shrinking back.
Kaeliano let out a faint scoff. Without warning, he grabbed a drunk man lounging on the VIP couch by the collar and smashed his face into the glass table. CRACK! The table split, blood dripping from the man's forehead.
"He knows something," Kaeliano muttered, as if breaking skulls was routine.
Teddy turned, glaring at him—half enraged, half unsettled. For years, Teddy had been the one others feared. Yet here, in this tense room, it was Kaeliano who held command. There was something terrifyingly calm in his eyes—something closer to a professional killer than an FBI rookie.
Shaking, the bleeding man finally croaked:
"O-okay! I saw the car! Black sedan! The plate… K and 47… but I don't remember the rest!"
Kaeliano released him, letting the man collapse onto the couch in terror.
"Good enough," he said flatly.
From the corner, Seraphine whispered to Teddy, "Strange… normally you're the most brutal in the room. But that kid—he's worse. He's in control."
Teddy clenched his jaw. He hated to admit it, but she was right. Kaeliano wasn't just reckless—he was dangerous. Stronger, sharper, almost too composed.
The truth was in his blood.
Kaeliano had been trained since childhood by his uncle, a retired combat instructor—an old master of hybrid martial arts who once specialized in military close-quarters combat. Forced to retire due to illness, the man had passed every ounce of his skill to his nephew.
Now, that legacy was staring Teddy in the face. Kaeliano wasn't just another rookie agent. He was something else entirely.
The room hung heavy in silence, broken only by Kaeliano's cold command:
"Plate K-47. That's all we need. Let's hunt."
The moment the club's back door shut behind them, the chill of dawn wrapped around the street. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky with streaks of gold and orange. Police officers moved about, pulling down yellow tape while a few reporters tried to slip past.
Kaeliano walked out first, hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket. His stride was lazy, as if he hadn't just smashed someone's head against a glass table minutes ago. Teddy followed behind, his face set in stone, muscles tense.
Kael let out a long yawn.
"Man… I'm starving. Didn't anyone think about breakfast?"
Seraphine shot him a glare.
"Are you serious, Kael? We just got a crucial lead and you're thinking about food?"
Kaeliano turned toward Teddy, flashing a mocking grin.
"Hey, Mr. Killer Agent, aren't you hungry? Or do you usually have blood for breakfast?"
Teddy froze, his jaw tightening.
"You little—"
Kael quickly raised a hand, smirking.
"Whoa, easy, old man. Chill. If I collapse from hunger in the middle of this case, who's gonna drag me back up? You? Hah, not buying it."
Seraphine rubbed her temples, clearly exasperated.
"God… you two are like kindergarten kids fighting over toys."
The sunlight grew stronger, painting their tired faces in shades of orange. Somewhere in the distance, the faint wail of police sirens still echoed. The city was waking up, but the scent of blood lingered in the air.
Kael exhaled dramatically.
"Fine, fine. We'll chase down that black sedan later. But first—I swear—I need coffee and a bagel."
Teddy growled under his breath.
"You're insufferable."
Kael's grin widened, proud.