The night air felt colder when Arif and Karim stepped outside Rashid Khan's mansion.
The tall iron gate slowly closed behind them with a heavy metallic sound.
Karim didn't say anything until they reached the jeep.
Then he finally spoke.
"That man is terrifying."
Arif opened the passenger door and sat down quietly.
Karim started the engine but didn't drive yet.
He turned to Arif.
"You saw his face when you mentioned the altered record."
Arif nodded.
"Yes."
Karim shook his head slowly.
"He wasn't scared."
Arif looked out toward the mansion behind them.
"No."
Karim frowned.
"He looked angry."
Arif finally turned back.
"That's even better."
Karim raised an eyebrow.
"Better?"
Arif leaned back in his seat.
"Angry people make mistakes."
Karim started driving slowly down the dark road.
The town streets were quiet.
Only a few dim streetlights illuminated the empty road ahead.
For several minutes they drove in silence.
Then Karim asked the question that had been on his mind since they left the house.
"What's the next step?"
Arif pulled the folded paper from his pocket again.
The copy of the transfer log.
Rashid Khan's signature.
Even if the record had been altered later—
The original entry still existed somewhere.
"We go back to the registry office tomorrow," Arif said.
Karim frowned.
"To check the correction notice?"
"Yes."
Karim sighed.
"That place already felt suspicious."
Arif nodded.
"Exactly."
Karim glanced at him.
"You think someone inside helped Rashid."
Arif's voice was calm.
"I'm certain of it."
The jeep turned onto the road leading back toward the town center.
But neither of them noticed the black SUV parked quietly near the corner.
Its headlights remained off.
Inside the vehicle—
Two men watched the jeep disappear down the road.
One of them picked up a phone.
"They just left the mansion."
A pause.
Then a calm voice answered from the other side.
"Follow them."
Arif didn't notice the SUV behind them until they reached the main highway.
Karim was the one who saw it first.
He looked at the rearview mirror again.
Then again.
Finally he said quietly—
"We might have a problem."
Arif turned.
"What is it?"
Karim nodded toward the mirror.
"That black SUV has been behind us for ten minutes."
Arif looked back.
The headlights of the vehicle followed them at a steady distance.
"Maybe it's just another car."
Karim shook his head.
"Not at this hour."
The road was almost empty.
Fields stretched into darkness on both sides.
Karim slowed slightly.
The SUV slowed too.
Arif's voice dropped.
"They're following us."
Karim's grip tightened on the steering wheel.
"Looks like it."
For several seconds neither of them spoke.
Then Karim asked quietly—
"What do we do?"
Arif thought for a moment.
Then he said something unexpected.
"Speed up."
Karim didn't hesitate.
The jeep engine roared as he pressed the accelerator.
The vehicle surged forward along the dark highway.
Behind them—
The SUV's headlights suddenly grew brighter.
It accelerated.
Karim cursed under his breath.
"Definitely not a coincidence."
Arif kept watching the road behind them.
"How far to town?"
"Ten minutes."
The SUV began gaining on them.
Fast.
Karim pushed the jeep harder.
The engine protested loudly.
Wind rushed through the windows.
The road curved sharply ahead.
Karim turned the wheel.
The jeep drifted slightly before stabilizing.
Behind them—
The SUV followed smoothly.
Too smoothly.
Karim's voice became tense.
"That driver knows what he's doing."
Arif said quietly—
"Yes."
The SUV suddenly moved closer.
Its headlights filled the rearview mirror.
Then—
A loud bang echoed through the night.
Karim's eyes widened.
"What the—"
Another bang.
This time the sound was unmistakable.
Gunfire.
Arif ducked instinctively.
"Drive!"
Karim pushed the accelerator to the floor.
The jeep shot forward again.
Another shot rang out.
A bullet struck the rear bumper with a metallic crack.
Karim cursed loudly.
"Now this is definitely war."
The road ahead split into two directions.
One led toward town.
The other toward the river road.
Arif pointed quickly.
"Left!"
Karim turned sharply.
The jeep skidded slightly before gripping the road again.
The river road was narrow and poorly lit.
Trees lined both sides.
The SUV followed without hesitation.
Karim's voice shook slightly.
"We can't outrun them forever."
Arif looked ahead.
Then he said—
"We don't have to."
Karim frowned.
"What?"
Arif pointed forward.
"Take the old bridge."
Karim's eyes widened.
"That bridge is half broken."
"Exactly."
Karim understood immediately.
"You're insane."
Arif didn't argue.
"Just drive."
The jeep raced toward the old wooden bridge that crossed the narrow river.
The structure was ancient.
Many of the planks had been replaced over the years.
But the bridge was barely wide enough for a single vehicle.
Karim slowed slightly.
The wood creaked loudly under the jeep's weight.
Behind them—
The SUV approached fast.
Too fast.
Karim drove halfway across the bridge.
Then suddenly he stopped.
"What now?"
Arif jumped out of the jeep.
"Come on!"
Karim didn't hesitate.
He followed Arif onto the wooden planks.
The SUV screeched to a halt at the entrance of the bridge.
Two men stepped out.
Both holding guns.
One of them shouted—
"Stop!"
Arif ignored him.
Instead he ran to the side of the bridge.
Karim looked confused.
"What are you doing?"
Arif grabbed a loose support beam near the railing.
"Help me!"
Karim quickly understood.
The old bridge was already weak.
Together they pushed the beam.
The wood cracked loudly.
The gunmen began running toward them.
"Stop!"
Another shot rang out.
The bullet struck the wooden railing.
Arif pushed harder.
The beam snapped.
Suddenly—
A section of the bridge collapsed with a thunderous crash.
The wooden planks broke apart and fell into the river below.
The gap between the two sides widened instantly.
The gunmen stopped at the edge.
They couldn't cross.
Karim laughed breathlessly.
"That worked."
Arif looked down at the broken bridge.
"Yes."
The men on the other side shouted angrily.
But there was nothing they could do.
Karim climbed back into the jeep.
"Well," he said.
"That was exciting."
Arif got in too.
Karim turned the vehicle around and drove away from the broken bridge.
This time—
No one followed.
Back at Arif's house the lights were still on.
It was nearly midnight.
Karim sat at the table drinking water.
His hands were still shaking slightly.
"That was way too close."
Arif stood near the window looking outside.
"They were professionals."
Karim nodded.
"And they had guns."
He looked up at Arif.
"Rashid sent them."
Arif didn't respond immediately.
Then he said—
"Probably."
Karim leaned back in his chair.
"That means he's scared now."
Arif shook his head slightly.
"No."
Karim frowned.
"Then why try to kill us?"
Arif turned toward him.
"Because we're getting closer."
Karim sighed.
"Closer to what?"
Arif walked to the table.
"The person inside the registry office."
Karim blinked.
"You still think someone there helped Rashid?"
Arif nodded.
"Tonight proved it."
Karim looked confused.
"How?"
Arif placed the correction document Rashid had shown them on the table.
"Think about it."
Karim leaned forward.
"That paper says the log entry was corrected three years ago."
"Yes."
"But we just saw the log today," Karim said.
Arif nodded slowly.
"And the original signature was still there."
Karim froze.
Realization slowly appeared on his face.
"Wait…"
He looked up.
"That means the correction notice is fake."
Arif's eyes hardened.
"Exactly."
Karim whistled softly.
"So Rashid is lying again."
Arif nodded.
"And that means someone inside the registry office helped him create that document."
Karim stood up.
"So tomorrow we go back there."
"Yes."
Karim smiled slightly.
"And this time we know exactly what we're looking for."
Arif nodded.
"The person who helped Rashid erase the past."
Outside—
In the darkness near the street—
A shadow moved silently.
Someone had been watching the house.
The figure slowly raised a phone.
"They survived."
A pause.
Then a cold voice answered from the other side.
"That's unfortunate."
The man spoke again.
"What should we do now?"
The voice replied calmly—
"Nothing."
The man sounded surprised.
"Nothing?"
"Yes."
The voice continued.
"Because tomorrow…"
"…they will come to us."
The line went dead.
The man disappeared into the darkness.
Morning arrived quietly.
But the calm didn't last long.
At exactly 9:15 AM—
Arif and Karim walked back into the Provincial Land Registry Office.
The same woman from the records division looked up when she saw them.
Her expression showed clear surprise.
"You again?"
Karim smiled politely.
"Morning."
Arif placed the correction document on her desk.
"We need to verify this."
She picked up the paper.
Her eyes moved across the text slowly.
Then something changed in her expression.
Very slightly.
But Arif noticed.
She looked up.
"Where did you get this?"
Arif answered calmly.
"Rashid Khan."
The woman's face became unreadable.
"I see."
Arif leaned forward slightly.
"We need to confirm if this record correction is legitimate."
For several seconds she didn't speak.
Then she stood up.
"Wait here."
She walked quickly toward the back office.
Karim leaned closer to Arif.
"You saw that."
Arif nodded.
"Yes."
Karim whispered—
"She's nervous."
Arif didn't respond.
Ten minutes passed.
Then the woman returned.
But she wasn't alone.
A tall man in a gray suit walked beside her.
His badge identified him as Deputy Director – Records Administration.
He looked directly at Arif.
"I'm told you have questions about an internal correction notice."
Arif nodded.
"Yes."
The man held out his hand.
"May I see it?"
Arif gave him the document.
The man read it slowly.
Then he looked up.
His face was completely calm.
"There is no record of this correction."
Karim blinked.
"So it's fake."
The man nodded.
"Yes."
Arif asked the question quietly.
"Then who created it?"
For a moment—
The man said nothing.
Then he looked at the woman beside him.
She suddenly looked uncomfortable.
Karim noticed.
"So someone here helped him."
The man sighed slowly.
"Yes."
Arif's voice became sharper.
"Who?"
The man looked directly at them.
Then he said something that froze both of them.
"The person who approved the transfer fifteen years ago."
Karim frowned.
"You mean Rashid?"
The man shook his head.
"No."
Then he spoke the name slowly.
"Director Hasan Ali."
Arif's eyes widened.
The Director of the entire registry office.
Karim whispered—
"You're kidding."
The Deputy Director shook his head.
"No."
Arif felt a chill run through him.
If the director himself had helped Rashid—
Then this case was far bigger than they imagined.
And far more dangerous.
The Deputy Director leaned closer.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"You two should be very careful."
Karim frowned.
"Why?"
The man answered quietly.
"Because Director Hasan Ali…"
"…is standing right behind you."
Slowly—
Arif and Karim turned around.
And saw the man watching them.
Arif and Karim turned around.
The tall man standing behind them looked calm. Too calm.
He was in his late fifties. Sharp eyes behind thin glasses. His gray hair was perfectly combed back.
Director Hasan Ali.
The most powerful man in the entire registry office.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
Karim swallowed slowly.
"So… you're the Director."
Hasan Ali smiled politely.
"Yes."
His voice was soft. Almost friendly.
But Arif immediately felt something cold in the man's presence.
Not fear.
Control.
Hasan Ali looked at the document still in his hand.
"The correction notice."
He lifted it slightly.
"Interesting paper."
Karim crossed his arms.
"Fake paper."
Hasan Ali nodded slowly.
"Yes."
He walked closer to them.
Each step calm and confident.
"Though I must say," he continued, "it is quite well made."
Arif watched him carefully.
"You helped create it."
Hasan Ali stopped walking.
Then he looked directly at Arif.
For a brief moment—
His polite smile disappeared.
Then it returned.
"You seem very confident."
Arif didn't blink.
"You approved Rashid Khan's land transfer fifteen years ago."
"Yes."
"And someone tried to erase the original log."
Hasan Ali tilted his head slightly.
"Records change over time."
Karim let out a small laugh.
"Not like that they don't."
The office lobby had suddenly become very quiet.
A few employees were watching from a distance.
But no one came closer.
Hasan Ali noticed.
Then he turned to the Deputy Director.
"Mr. Rahman."
The deputy immediately straightened.
"Yes sir."
"Please give us the conference room."
Rahman nodded quickly.
"Of course."
He gestured down the hallway.
"This way."
Arif and Karim exchanged a brief glance.
Karim whispered—
"Trap?"
Arif replied quietly—
"Probably."
But they followed anyway.
The conference room door closed behind them with a soft click.
Inside—
Only four people remained.
Arif.
Karim.
Deputy Director Rahman.
And Director Hasan Ali.
Hasan Ali placed the correction document on the table.
Then he sat down slowly.
"Let's speak openly."
Karim pulled a chair and sat.
Arif remained standing.
Hasan Ali noticed.
"You don't trust me."
Arif answered calmly.
"You sent people to kill us last night."
For the first time—
The director's eyes hardened.
"That is a serious accusation."
Karim leaned forward.
"They had guns."
Rahman looked shocked.
"What?"
Karim continued.
"Black SUV. River road."
Rahman looked at Hasan Ali.
But the director's face remained unreadable.
After a moment he spoke quietly.
"I did not send anyone."
Karim scoffed.
"Sure."
Hasan Ali folded his hands.
"But Rashid Khan might have."
Arif's eyes narrowed.
"So you admit you're connected to him."
Hasan Ali sighed softly.
"I signed a legal transfer fifteen years ago."
"That's all."
Arif finally sat down.
"No."
He pointed at the correction document.
"You tried to erase the past."
Hasan Ali tapped the paper gently.
"This document is fake."
Karim said immediately—
"Exactly."
"Yes," Hasan Ali said calmly.
"But I didn't make it."
That made both of them pause.
Arif studied his face carefully.
"You expect us to believe that?"
Hasan Ali leaned back in his chair.
"I expected you to be smarter."
The room fell silent again.
Then Hasan Ali looked at Rahman.
"Tell them."
Rahman hesitated.
"Sir…"
Hasan Ali's voice became colder.
"Tell them."
Rahman swallowed.
Then he looked at Arif.
"The correction notice was submitted three years ago."
Arif frowned.
"By who?"
Rahman answered slowly.
"An internal request."
Karim blinked.
"From which department?"
Rahman hesitated again.
Then he said the words quietly.
"Archives Division."
Arif looked confused.
"The archives store old records."
"Yes."
Rahman nodded.
"And the request was approved through a digital authorization."
Karim leaned forward.
"Authorized by who?"
Rahman looked at Hasan Ali.
Then back at them.
"The system shows the Director's approval."
Karim slammed the table lightly.
"So it WAS him."
But Hasan Ali shook his head.
"No."
Arif stared at him.
"You expect us to believe someone forged your authorization?"
"Yes."
Karim laughed.
"That's ridiculous."
Hasan Ali's eyes became sharp.
"You think corruption is simple."
Arif said quietly—
"It usually is."
Hasan Ali leaned forward.
"Then let me ask you something."
He pointed at the document.
"Why create a fake correction notice?"
Karim answered immediately.
"To erase the original transfer."
"Wrong," Hasan Ali said.
He looked at Arif.
"Someone wanted the opposite."
Arif's mind began turning.
"The opposite?"
"Yes."
Hasan Ali nodded.
"Someone wanted investigators to find it."
The realization hit Arif slowly.
"A trap."
Karim blinked.
"Wait… what?"
Hasan Ali spoke calmly.
"If the original transfer disappears completely… no one asks questions."
"But if a suspicious correction appears…"
Karim finished the thought.
"Someone comes looking."
Arif leaned back.
"And that someone was supposed to be us."
Hasan Ali nodded once.
"Yes."
Karim looked stunned.
"Why?"
The director's voice dropped.
"Because whoever created this… wanted you to reach me."
The room suddenly felt colder.
Arif asked quietly—
"Why you?"
Hasan Ali didn't answer immediately.
Then he stood up slowly.
"Because I'm the only person who can access the full archive."
Karim frowned.
"So?"
Hasan Ali walked to the window.
Outside the busy office yard could be seen.
"Fifteen years ago," he said quietly, "the Rashid Khan transfer was not the only land deal that day."
Arif's eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
Hasan Ali turned back.
"There were five transfers."
Karim blinked.
"Five?"
"Yes."
Arif leaned forward.
"And they're connected."
Hasan Ali nodded.
"Very much."
Karim asked—
"What kind of connection?"
Hasan Ali looked directly at Arif.
"All five properties sit on the same underground water line."
Arif frowned.
"That's not unusual."
"No," Hasan Ali said.
"But what lies beneath the water line is."
Karim looked confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Hasan Ali spoke one word.
"Lithium."
Silence exploded inside the room.
Karim blinked.
"Lithium?"
Arif's eyes widened slowly.
A mineral deposit.
Extremely valuable.
Hasan Ali continued.
"The geological survey discovered it seventeen years ago."
Karim whispered—
"You're saying Rashid's land sits on a lithium deposit?"
"Yes."
Arif felt the puzzle pieces moving together.
"So someone bought the land before the discovery became public."
Hasan Ali nodded.
"Exactly."
Karim said slowly—
"Rashid was one of them."
"Yes."
Arif asked the next question quietly.
"Who owns the other four pieces?"
Hasan Ali's expression darkened.
"That information is sealed."
Karim scoffed.
"Convenient."
Hasan Ali looked at Arif.
"But someone is trying to reopen the case."
Arif asked—
"The person who forged the correction notice."
"Yes."
Karim crossed his arms.
"So who is it?"
Hasan Ali shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then he added something that made the room silent again.
"But I believe…"
"…they work inside this building."
Karim looked around the room instinctively.
"Great."
Arif stood up slowly.
"Then we need the archive."
Hasan Ali nodded once.
"That's why I let you come here."
Karim frowned.
"You LET us?"
Hasan Ali's voice was calm again.
"Yes."
Then he looked at the door.
"Because if we're right…"
"…the person who started this trap is watching us right now."
At that exact moment—
The lights inside the conference room flickered once.
Then suddenly—
The entire building went dark.
Power outage.
Karim stood up instantly.
"Perfect timing."
From somewhere down the hallway—
A loud alarm began ringing.
Rahman looked terrified.
"That's the archive security alarm."
Arif's eyes hardened.
"They're destroying the records."
Without another word—
He ran for the door.
Karim followed.
And behind them—
Director Hasan Ali moved quickly for the first time.
Because the real battle for the truth—
Had just begun.