Frederick masterfully tricked Lana into releasing him from the border security and even got her men to drop him off in the city. Since he had made the bold claim of being an FBI secret agent, there was no way to verify, because he claimed to be on a top mission. Even if he was a part of the FBI there would be no one to confirm such a bold claim. However, the events surrounding this man were not common. Lana believed he was something, but not an agent, and she would get to the bottom of it. That was her mistake. She was walking right into a trap. Fredrick knew she was planning to follow him, just as he had predicted. His whole plan was coming together nicely.
She assigned a separate car to drop him off at his chosen location, pretending like she wouldn't follow up on the case. How could border security allow such a strange and suspicious man to go without any consequences? Didn't that just mean they had another plan for him?
The city was bustling with people moving to and fro. The streets were alive with the energy of a typical afternoon, vendors calling out their wares, cars honking, and pedestrians weaving through the crowds. Fredrick decided to take a stroll, blending seamlessly into the chaos. He had left his country Tyrion where he was the supreme general and came to Kanada with nothing but short pants and flip flops. He didn't even have money. As to how he had accomplished such a feat, that was a mystery for the future. The sun beat down on the pavement as he walked casually, his eyes scanning the environment with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to assessing threats and opportunities.
"I wonder, where do I start my plan..." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. A light flashed in his eyes as his next plan became visible. He quickly thought of how to execute his masterful plan. The pieces were falling into place, and all he needed was the right opening. He walked a few more paces before deliberately bumping into a man on the street.
"Oh, am sorry, didn't see you there," Fredrick said apologetically, his voice carrying just the right amount of genuine concern. His arms swiftly flashed for a moment before he continued on his journey.
The man waved him off dismissively and continued on his way, completely unaware of what had just transpired.
Lana, who was following from behind, scoffed audibly. "What a clumsy bastard," she raged under her breath. As of this moment she didn't hate anyone as much as she hated Fredrick. He had made her look like a fool in front of her men, undermining her authority and making her question her own judgment. She watched as the man passed Fredrick, only to notice moments later that his watch was missing. Her eyes widened slightly in realization, Fredrick had actually stolen that stranger's watch.
"Ha! I knew this guy was a lowlife. He just stole that person's watch. At least now I have something to convict him by," she mused, a satisfied smirk crossing her face. Finally, she had concrete evidence of wrongdoing. But she wasn't just here to convict him, she was here to figure out what his true goals were and where had he really come from.
Fredrick meanwhile whistled as if he didn't know she was following him. His demeanor was relaxed, almost carefree, as he walked through the busy streets. He walked and walked until finally reaching a casino. The building loomed before him, its flashing lights and gaudy exterior promising fortune to some and ruin to others. In the past, after Fredrick had lost everything and traveled to Tyrion, he survived on gambling, winning and losing like every other person. Then he joined the army and discovered secrets that made him an even more dangerous gambler. Techniques of reading people, understanding probability in ways that transcended mathematics, and maintaining an iron composure under pressure. Now his gambling skills were out of the roof. He approached the door confidently and was blocked by a burly man.
The man looked at his short pants and flip flops with barely concealed disgust. His eyes traveled from Fredrick's disheveled appearance to his face, judgment written clearly across his features.
"Am sorry, but we don't allow bums in this fine establishment," the security guard said firmly.
"Bum? Who's the bum around here?" Fredrick asked, genuinely confused by the accusation.
"You are," the security answered bluntly.
"Sir, you're mistaken. Am here to place a bet, just look at my watch," Fredrick said, holding up his wrist to display the stolen timepiece.
"I don't care if it's you, or your mother that wants to make a bet. We don't allow bums," the guard repeated stubbornly.
It was incredibly difficult to get Fredrick angry as he knew how to control his emotions, but bringing his mother into this was crossing a line. Cold, boundless killing intent flowed from his body as he looked at the security with his hunter like eyes. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees, and the very air around them grew heavy with menace. The man froze. Normal people didn't usually emit killing intent. Only ruthless figures that had frozen their hearts and bathed in pools of blood could emit such a deadly aura. This was the presence of someone who had commanded armies, who had made life and death decisions that affected thousands.
"Whose mother are you talking about?" Fredrick asked, his voice low and dangerous.
The guard swallowed hard. Although the killing intent was real and terrifying, it wasn't something he was going to allow to scare him completely. He was paid to keep undesirables out, and he would do his job. He averted his gaze and threw a frantic punch out of fear, his body acting on instinct rather than reason.
"Yours!!" he shouted.
The punch looked like a pregnant turtle moving towards Fredrick. Extremely slow, telegraphed, and clumsy. He could easily lift his hands to grab the fist and crush it like a twig. That was when he remembered he was being followed. He had been so angry he almost forgot his plan. Everything depended on maintaining his cover, on appearing weak and vulnerable. He placed himself back in the direction of the punch and let it hit him squarely in the face before crashing to the ground dramatically.
"Arrghh!" he groaned, clutching his face.
Lana, who was ducking behind a parked car across the street, frowned deeply. She could have sworn she had seen Fredrick dodge the punch initially, his body moving with practiced efficiency before he somehow ended up on the ground. "I must be seeing things today," she muttered, shaking her head.
The guard slowly opened his eyes, looking at the figure sprawled on the ground. Even he was surprised he managed to drop such a man, especially after that terrifying moment of intense pressure. Perhaps he had imagined the whole thing.
"That's what you get for acting like a big shot. Now take you and that little watch your mommy bought you and get outta here!" At that moment the manager of the casino came outside, drawn by the commotion. He saw Fredrick on the floor and immediately his expression changed to one of concern and irritation.
"Luca!! What did I tell you about driving my customers away? It is not your job to determine who is properly dressed. Even the beggars sometimes have money to spend," the manager scolded. He reached forward and lifted Fredrick from the ground with surprising gentleness.
"Am sorry for the embarrassment sir. Come in, let me show you around and get you a drink on the house," the manager said warmly.
"Can I sell this watch here?" Fredrick asked, dusting himself off.
"Of course, of course sir. We accept anything of value. I'll get you your chips right away," the manager assured him.
As Fredrick passed the guard, he tried desperately not to glare at him, or else he might unknowingly unleash his death stare again. Control was everything right now. Lana, still hiding behind the car, slapped her forehead in exasperation. "That idiot. He's going to get scammed out of that watch he stole." Then she caught herself, surprised by her own reaction.
"Why am I even worried about him? It's better that way." Whenever Lana found herself struggling with decisions concerning Fredrick, she would suppress the anger and remind herself that investigating him was the mission. She sighed and ran after him, planning to follow him into the casino. She needed to see this through, to understand what his game really was.
Fredrick was not a normal existence. The amount of power and prestige he held as the supreme general could not be simply explained. This was someone who could order war on another nation through his connections, someone whose word carried the weight of armies.
Yet, to get his revenge he had taken the safer route and path where many innocents would not suffer. He could have unleashed devastation, but he chose precision instead. Yet the security at the door dared to hit him and worst of all insult his deceased family. This was not a crime he would let go unpunished, even though he was undercover. What kind of war god would he be if he let just anyone trample on his dignity? Luca didn't even know the amount of danger he was in, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just struck a man who could end him with a single phone call. Fredrick wasn't someone who liked being low key, back in Tyrion, he would patrol the streets and display is grandeur. No one would even dare insult him, that's why he would not let it go. This "Luca" would get what was coming to him.