Although Spandine was confident in his status, as night deepened and his subordinates still hadn't returned, unease began to creep in.
"Could something really have happened?"
He paced anxiously back and forth across the room.
"Sir," Butler ventured cautiously, "should we ask Brian for help? After all, this is his territory."
"Ask the Navy to help find my men? If word of that spreads, I'll lose every shred of face I have as CP9's chief!"
Spandine was the very definition of a cowardly braggart — terrified of death, obsessed with saving face. There was no way he'd beg the Navy for help.
Besides, he was planning to shake Brian down for money soon. Asking for his help first would ruin the plan.
Butler fell silent. He wanted to argue further, but seeing Spandine pacing more frantically by the second, he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
Then Spandine suddenly stopped, eyes lighting up with an idea.
"Sir?" Butler asked warily, sensing the scheme forming in his superior's mind.
"Tomorrow," Spandine said with a sly grin, "we'll go see Brian — and demand he return my men."
"What? You're going to Brian for them? But didn't you just say—"
"I'm not asking the Navy for help," Spandine snapped. "I'm saying it's Brian who probably captured them!"
"But… we don't have any proof…"
"When," Spandine cut him off smugly, "has CP9 ever needed proof to handle a case?"
Butler grimaced. "Well… that's true, but still—"
"No more buts. We're going first thing in the morning. Besides, our people vanished on his turf — he's responsible either way."
Butler suddenly understood. Spandine didn't really believe Brian had done anything — he was planning to frame him.
If Brian was smart, he'd pay to make the problem go away. If not, Spandine could accuse him of whatever he pleased.
It wasn't Spandine's first time running this kind of racket. He'd shaken down officials, businessmen, and nobles before —
but trying it on a naval officer? That would be a first.
The next morning, Spandine marched toward the Ganaba Fortress temporary encampment, flanked by more than thirty black-suited agents, exuding an air of arrogant authority.
Seeing the CP9 commander and his entourage approaching, Lieutenant Colonel Caesar, who was on patrol duty, felt his scalp prickle and his knees go weak. Cold sweat soaked through his uniform.
"I'm Spandine, Director of CP9," Spandine announced loudly.
"Tell your commanding officer, Major General Brian, to come see me immediately."
This is bad, Caesar thought, heart pounding faster by the second.
"What's wrong? Need to verify my identity?" Spandine said coldly, pulling out his badge.
Caesar took it, pretending to check it carefully before turning to a nearby marine.
"Go notify Lord Brian."
"Yes, sir!" The marine sprinted off toward Brian's quarters.
Inside Brian's tent, his uniform lay scattered across the floor — along with a woman's stockings and undergarments.
The previous night, Brian had spent the entire evening entangled with the mayor's daughter from Ganaba Port.
Her name was Sherry, a beauty Brian had seduced half a year earlier at a banquet.
What began as coy glances and hesitant smiles had quickly evolved into heated passion — and she'd long since become his lover.
Everyone in the camp knew exactly what their commanding officer had been doing the night before,
so the marine who came to deliver the message didn't dare enter the tent. He stopped outside and shouted,
"Lord Brian! Lord Brian!"
Brian's hand slipped from under Sherry's neck. He lit a cigar, took a long drag, and said lazily,
"What is it?"
"Sir, there's a man outside claiming to be the CP9 commander. He wants to see you."
"Tell him I went out last night to hunt pirates and haven't returned yet. He can come back after lunch—"
Before he could finish, Sherry pressed herself back against his chest, biting lightly at his skin, her lips trailing downward until she disappeared beneath the sheets.
"Hsss…" Brian sucked in a sharp breath — that sting, that heat.
"Forget lunch," he muttered. "Tell him to come back after dinner."
Though the marine couldn't see inside, the sounds coming from the tent were unmistakable —
so vivid that his face flushed bright red. Heart pounding, he ran back to report.
"Apologies," Caesar said awkwardly, "Lord Brian went out last night to suppress pirates. He won't be back until after dinner."
Spandine's smile froze.
"Suppress pirates? Last night?"
He laughed coldly.
"What a convenient story."
"Yes… sir," Caesar stammered, forcing a weak smile.
Spandine jabbed a finger at him, trembling with fury.
"Good. Very good. Major General Brian is quite something."
Caesar could only bow his head, grinning nervously.
Then Spandine's face turned stony. Raising his badge, he shouted to the nearby marines:
"I am Spandine, Director of CP9 — an intelligence bureau directly under the World Government!
I have reason to suspect that the disappearances of two government legal officers and three administrative officials last April and August are linked to Major General Brian!
Effective immediately, I am ordering a full search of this camp!"
He gave Butler a subtle signal.
Butler nodded and led the agents forward, ready to barge in.
The marines behind Caesar instinctively drew their swords and raised their rifles.
Spandine thrust his credentials into their faces.
"Are you trying to obstruct a CP9 investigation? Or do you intend to betray the World Government?"
Betray the World Government.
The words froze them in terror — that was treason, punishable by execution, with their families enslaved.
The marines faltered, lowering their weapons.
"Out of my way."
Under Spandine's threats, even the roughneck soldiers Brian had trained began to back down.
"Step aside."
"Let them through!"
"A-Squad, search left! B-Squad, right! C-Squad, with me — in the center!"
Spandine strode in smoking a cigarette, cloak billowing, radiating arrogance.
As he headed for Brian's tent, Caesar nearly fainted from panic.
"Sir, please — search anywhere else, but not that tent! It's Major General Brian's private quarters—"
"Out of the way!" Butler barked, shoving Caesar aside and storming into the tent.
"Ah!" came a woman's shriek from inside.
"What—there's a woman in there?" Spandine exclaimed, leaning forward to peek.
But before he could take another step—
BOOM!
A blur shot out of the tent. Butler's body hit the ground with a sickening thud — his head burst open like a crushed watermelon, blood and brain matter splattering across the dirt, red and white and yellow, grotesquely vivid.
The courtyard went dead silent.
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