The club's parking lot was deserted. Only faint tire marks and dark oil stains remained under the dull glow of a streetlamp.
"A black sedan, plate K-47," Teddy muttered, scanning the asphalt. "If we're quick, we might still catch its trail."
Kaeliano lit a cigarette and exhaled lazily. His eyes followed the faint grooves. "Or we'll just be chasing smoke."
They followed the lead to a grimy car wash on the outskirts of the city, a known drop point for vehicles tied to dirty business. The air was sharp with gasoline and soap.
Seraphine's phone buzzed. Her face tightened as she listened.
"Zarek's headquarters is empty," she said carefully. "Not a soul left. But… we found sacks filled with bodies. Identities unknown, forensics are working on it."
Kaeliano froze mid-step. "Sacks?" he repeated, his voice low. "Zarek wouldn't abandon his ground without reason. If he's gone… it means something bigger is moving."
Seraphine met his eyes. "Kael, don't—"
"I heard you," he cut her off, flicking the cigarette to the ground. "And I'm not going to do anything stupid."
Minutes later, they pulled into a junkyard. Rusted carcasses of cars loomed like grave markers, the cawing of crows adding to the bleakness. In the corner sat a black sedan with the plate K-47. The paint was freshly washed, but the windshield bore a jagged crack.
The yard's owner, an older man with oil-stained hands, shuffled over. Teddy's voice was sharp: "Who dropped this off?"
The man scratched his neck nervously. "Young guy. About your age… maybe twenty-five, twenty-six. Tall. Looked kinda like him—" he nodded toward Kaeliano. "Quiet type, but his eyes… cold as hell."
Kaeliano narrowed his gaze. "He was alone?"
"Yeah. Came late at night, left the car here, didn't say a word."
Seraphine inhaled sharply. "That could mean he's part of the inner circle."
Kaeliano's stare lingered on the cracked windshield. His fists tightened beneath his jacket. "Or…" he muttered, "he's playing with us."
Kaeliano carefully opened the door of the K-47 sedan. The smell of burnt metal mixed with cheap perfume hit him instantly. The backseat was soaked with dried blood, sticking like rust. Teddy slid on his latex gloves, his face as cold as ever.
"This isn't just a dumped car," Teddy muttered, scanning the interior. "This is a moving crime scene."
Kaeliano crouched, inspecting the dashboard. His fingers found something hidden—a tiny flash drive, tucked beneath the steering column. He held it up.
"Whoever ditched this, either sloppy… or they wanted us to find it," he said quietly.
Seraphine stepped closer, already pulling out an evidence bag. "We'll get this to the digital lab. Could be names, bank records, surveillance footage—anything."
Kaeliano didn't respond. His eyes had locked onto something on the floor mat—a delicate chain with a broken cross pendant. He slipped it silently into his pocket.
Inside a shadowy high-rise office, a broad-shouldered man stood before a tall window. His imposing frame swallowed the dim light; his face was half-veiled in darkness, but his eyes gleamed with sharp intent.
Behind him stood a young man in his mid-twenties. His black hair was messy, his breath uneven, his hands still trembling as if stained with the memory of violence. He was the one who had carried out the murder last night.
The man finally turned slightly, his deep voice rumbling through the room.
"Peter."
The young man lifted his chin. "Yes, Father."
"I told you before… never leave witnesses."
Peter's jaw clenched as he lowered his gaze. "She ran too fast. But I left a sign behind. They'll know… I was there."
A thin smile curved the older man's lips—colder and more terrifying than anger.
"Good. Let them come to you. The sooner Kaeliano steps into this game… the sooner we end him."
The FBI briefing room was silent, only the faint hum of a computer fan breaking the stillness. Seraphine sat at the console, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she accessed the files from the flash drive Kaeliano had brought in. Teddy stood with arms crossed behind her, while Kaeliano leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable but eyes sharp, dissecting every detail.
One by one, the folders opened.
On-screen appeared encrypted documents marked with vague labels:
TRADE–ZK–K47
ASIA–NARCOTICS–NETWORK
AMERICAS–CASHFLOW
Seraphine clicked her tongue. "This isn't ordinary data. The encryption… it's military-grade."
After minutes of decrypting, the first file revealed itself. Tables of transactions—numbers, shipping routes, and glaringly clear—the name of Zarek's gang as one of the recipients.
Teddy growled under his breath. "Zarek's a bastard… but he's not the mastermind. He's just a pawn."
Kaeliano tilted his chin slightly. "Check the next one."
The second file displayed a sprawling international narcotics network. Red lines stretched across the globe—Tokyo, Hong Kong, Jakarta, snaking across the Pacific into Los Angeles, New York, Miami. All those routes converged on one center marked only as: "UNKNOWN."
Seraphine whispered, as though afraid the truth itself might hear her.
"He has branches in Asia and the Americas… This isn't just a gang. It's a shadow empire."
The final file unfolded into a flow of numbers: financial transactions, shell corporations, offshore accounts. Hundreds of millions of dollars were being funneled into stock markets, real estate, even charity foundations. All of it directed at a single purpose—to tighten the mysterious mafia's grip over the United States.
Kaeliano exhaled through his nose, voice laced with bitter amusement.
"So that's his game… Zarek gets weapons for the street wars, while the big money is used to buy officials and cops."
Teddy's jaw tightened as he stared at the screen.
"If this is real, then we're not just fighting gangsters. We're fighting a system. This man controls the guns, the drugs, the money… and the government players."
Leaning back further, Kaeliano smirked faintly, though his eyes stayed cold.
"And someone like that… never shows his face. He hides behind puppets. The question now…" He looked from Seraphine to Teddy. "…is which one of them is the puppet?"
The FBI headquarters was still buzzing with discussions about the data inside the flash drive. Agents were busy copying, decoding, and preparing reports for central command. Amid the chaos, Kaeliano slipped out quietly, his steps light yet deliberate. He didn't want anyone—especially Seraphine or Teddy—to know where he was heading.
The morning air stung his skin as he fired up his motorcycle. The engine purred low, quiet enough not to draw attention. He pulled down his black helmet and twisted the throttle, leaving behind the neon-lit building.
He didn't go straight home. Instead, he stopped on a deserted street, pulling out his phone. Rarely did he open their secret group chat—a private space shared only by him, Zarek, and one or two old contacts who were long inactive.
His fingers hovered for a moment over the screen, then began to type:
> Kaeliano: Zarek, wherever you are… I will find you.
Kaeliano: It's better if you come forward and give your testimony in detail. If not… I'll go in too deep. You know what that means.
Message sent. No typing indicator appeared. The group stayed silent, as if dead. But Kaeliano knew—Zarek had to be watching.
The FBI headquarters suddenly fell silent as Seraphine realized something.
"He's… gone," she muttered, staring at the monitor. Kaeliano's phone signal was off.
Teddy, leaning against a chair, let out a low growl. "That kid. If he turned off his phone, it means he doesn't want to be disturbed. He's focusing on doing this his way." His tone was harsh, but deep down, he knew Kaeliano wasn't reckless.
However, Kaeliano didn't realize… his message in their secret group wasn't only read by Zarek.
On screens far away, three others stared at the message with varying expressions.
Eryndal Veynor sat at his desk, fingers tapping nervously. He understood all too well: if Kaeliano pushed Zarek too far, their long-standing bond could shatter. And it wasn't just friendship—it was the foundation of trust he had watched build for years.
Hiroto Akazami sat behind the glass window of his Tokyo apartment, neon lights reflecting off his eyes. "Kaeliano… if you drag Zarek into the light, the whole network could collapse," he whispered in Japanese. "Koko kara modorenai zo…" (You won't be able to come back from here.)
Raven Elthorne, unlike the others, stared at the message longer. He held his phone with cold hands, then set it down slowly. His heart raced—not out of concern for losing a friend, but because of one dangerous secret.
The next target… was Kaeliano himself.
Raven clenched his fists under the bar where he worked. He wanted to warn Kaeliano, to break the contract—but every wrong move could drag others into danger. If Zarek or the mysterious mafia boss found out he leaked information, not only he, but everyone he cared about could be at risk.
Back at headquarters, Seraphine slammed the table. "We can't leave him alone like this! If Kael keeps doing this, he'll die on his own. We have to track him down now."
Teddy crossed his arms. "If you push him, it'll only make things worse. Let the kid do his thing. He's stubborn, but… he's no fool."
Outside, Kaeliano was already moving on his own path.
And one by one, his friends were trapped in a dilemma: save him, betray him, or kill him.