Chapter 3

The warehouse was dimly lit. The air reeked of blood so strongly that it made everyone frown and fight back the urge to vomit. Dark bloodstains covered the walls, and broken chains and rusted blunt instruments lay scattered across the floor.

It wasn't hard to tell that someone had been subjected to inhuman torture here.

Jordyn was the first to regain her composure. She issued an order in a low voice.

"Stay calm and stay alert. Split into groups and conduct a thorough search. Report immediately if you find anything."

Before long, one of the officers shouted, "We've found something!"

Jordyn rushed over right away.

A pile of shattered bones lay scattered across the floor, broken into countless pieces. Beside them was a faded police uniform bearing my badge number.

Someone couldn't help asking, "Could it be… the suspect was telling the truth?"

"Impossible!" Jordyn immediately cut him off with her eyes fixed on the pile of bones.

Her voice was firm and absolute as she analyzed, "Judging by how weathered these bones are, the person has been dead for at least two years. But when we arrested those criminals a year ago, they had repeatedly evaded our surveillance and containment efforts.

"Someone with an intimate knowledge of police tactics was clearly advising them from the shadows. That person had to be Christopher. It's more likely that they kidnapped an innocent civilian and tortured him to death. The uniform was nothing more than a deliberate decoy. Don't let it fool you!"

She immediately turned to the officers beside her and instructed, "Send these remains for DNA testing immediately. We have to identify the victim and notify the family. Everyone else, keep expanding the search area.

"Christopher must have gotten word in advance and fled. Don't let him get away!"

The officers immediately sprang into action. Jordyn turned and walked out of the warehouse. She lit a cigarette and leaned against a police car.

I never thought she'd taken up smoking. After all, she'd always hated the smell of cigarettes.

Her gaze fell on the sealed evidence bag containing the police uniform, and a mocking smirk appeared on her face.

She remarked dryly, "Christopher, your counter-surveillance skills are still as good as ever. You really should have joined the CID."

Her words instantly brought back a memory from years ago.

The first time Jordyn and I met was during a joint training exercise between different departments. My team had been playing the role of the criminals. Using our familiarity with the terrain, we'd nearly wiped out the opposing police team.

In the end, only she and I remained. We faced each other on the roof of an abandoned building.

I held a training pistol in my hand. My palm was slick with sweat, but I forced myself to stay calm, staring intently at the spot where she was hiding.

She crouched behind cover, her breathing steady.

She said, "Christopher, right? What a waste. With tactical instincts like yours, you should've joined the CID."

I froze for a split second, and that was all the opening she needed. She sprang out like a hunting predator, moving so fast that all I saw was a blur.

The world spun as she slammed me to the ground. Pain through my back when it hit the floor.

"On the battlefield, one second of hesitation gets you killed," she said quietly.

Then she released me and pulled me to my feet, brushing the dust off my shoulder.

My heart pounded strongly against my ribcage, and I could feel my ears burning.

I later learned that she was the legendary Jordyn Croft from the Criminal Investigation program. She was the promising young officer Dad was always praising.

After that, she kept finding excuses to stick around wherever I was. She claimed that Dad had asked her to look after me.

If I trained late, she'd bring me a bottle of water that she'd warmed to room temperature. She'd stay to practice hand-to-hand combat with me for another half hour.

If I got nervous before an evaluation, she'd stand below the platform and give me an encouraging look, secretly raising her fist in a little "You've got this" gesture.

The next time she handed me a tube of ointment for scrapes and helped treat the abrasion on my arm from training, I stopped her in a corner of the training grounds.

"Jordyn, do you have a crush on me?"

She froze. The tips of her ears immediately turned red. Her eyes darted everywhere except toward me. After a long silence, she finally took a deep breath and looked me straight in the eye.

Her voice was taut as a wire. "Yes, Officer Savile. I've fallen for you. Does that violate regulations? If it does, I… I can file a request…"

I burst out laughing and reached over to ruffle her hair.

After graduation, we naturally ended up in the same unit. We became the police department's famous power couple, fighting side by side with perfect coordination.

Then everything changed with a kidnapping case that made national headlines.

When a group of drug traffickers was exposed, they kidnapped a group of hostages. Milo and his parents were among them. His parents were brutally murdered while trying to protect him.

I took a slash across the chest while protecting him. It left behind a scar that never fully healed. A bullet also grazed my arm.

Afterward, Milo, now orphaned, clutched the hem of my shirt with tearful eyes.

His voice was hoarse and broken as he said, "Chris, I don't have a home anymore…"

My heart softened, and I started bringing him home.

Mom took a liking to him. She cooked his favorite dishes and even prepared a spare bedroom for him. I taught him self-defense, brought him to the police station to watch us train, and tried to help him move past his trauma so that he could get on with life.

Seeing how kind I was to him, Jordyn looked after him too. She taught him basic self-defense techniques and helped him get in touch with a therapist.

Milo often tagged along wherever we went. He was docile and considerate, like a small kitten that simply needed someone to protect it.

But I never imagined that this seemingly gentle kitten had been sharpening its claws in the shadows.