LOGINThe gunpowder smoke on the overpass had been washed away by the rain. Obsidian City welcomed a rare, clear sky. The morning light fell across the buildings, clean and bright, as if the city itself had been reborn. The wet streets glistened under the pale sun, and the distant hum of the harbor carried a note of calm that had been absent for years.With the International Special Investigation Bureau and the Morris family's heavy blockade, the web of black-market interests that had entrenched itself in Obsidian City for years was uprooted. One by one, the old channels were shut down, the hidden accounts frozen, the shadow networks dismantled. North Port was orderly. Ships moved in and out on schedule. The old world's poison had been cleansed by absolute force.Inside the underground command center, the air was cold
Six in the morning. The coastal overpass at Obsidian Port.The rain had not stopped. The sea wind whipped up towering waves that crashed violently against the cliffs below the overpass, sending plumes of white spray high into the air. Sirens and ambulance alarms tore through the rainy night, painting the sky with streaks of red and blue light. The emergency vehicles' flashing beacons reflected off the wet asphalt, casting long, distorted shadows across the bridge. Rainwater streamed down the concrete barriers in thin, relentless rivulets, pooling in the cracks and running toward the edges.Under international judicial procedure, after the interrogation at Kessler Estate, Victor had to be transferred to the International Special Investigation Bureau and Obsidian City's joint police escort. He was to be taken to a
Morning light pierced through the thin morning mist, slanting across the balcony of the hillside villa's master bedroom. The pale gold rays spilled across the wooden floor, catching the dust motes floating in the still air. Outside, the garden was lush and green, the leaves still glistening with droplets from the night before.The air was fresh with the scent of damp grass and earth, carrying the clean smell of rain-washed leaves and early-blooming flowers. The gunpowder and blood of yesterday's dock and interrogation room seemed to have been washed away entirely by the morning sun, leaving behind only the quiet peace of a new day.Dominic leaned back in a soft chair, his left shoulder wrapped in thick white bandages, the buttons of his shirt slightly undone, revealing the strong lines of his collarbone and the
Kessler Estate, underground high-security interrogation room.The walls were cast from heavy blast-proof steel, their surfaces cold and unyielding. The air carried the sharp, metallic tang of reinforced alloy, mixed with the sterile bite of diluted nitric disinfectant that lingered at the back of the throat. The room was windowless, sealed, cut off from the outside world. A single overhead light cast a harsh, unforgiving glare across the space, leaving no shadows for anything to hide in.In the corner above, a silent surveillance camera tracked every movement, its small red indicator light blinking in steady, deliberate pulses.Victor was secured to a custom titanium interrogation chair, its restraints designed to hold even the strongest man. His wri
Late at night, after the rain, at Dock Seven of Obsidian Port's international waters.The salt-laden sea wind swept across the dock, carrying the heavy, acrid smell of rust and brine that clung to the back of the throat. The dock was a maze of towering shipping containers, their metal walls gleaming dully under the harsh, blinding white lights. The gaps between them yawned like dark mouths, casting deep, jagged shadows across the wet concrete. The only sound was the rhythmic slap of waves against the pilings and the distant groan of a ship's hull shifting against its moorings.Victor lay slumped against a container, his face ghostly pale, slick with cold sweat. Blood was still seeping from the wounds on his right leg and the side of his face, dark patches spreading across the fabric of his clothes. His chest hea
Morning sunlight broke through the thin clouds, slanting into the master bedroom of the hillside villa. Pale gold light pooled across the wooden floor, catching the dust motes floating in the still air. The lingering scent of antiseptic from the night before had been washed away by the fresh smell of rain-soaked grass drifting in through the open window, carrying the distant sound of birdsong from the garden below.Dominic was propped against the pillows, dressed in a clean, loose black shirt. His left shoulder was tightly wrapped in thick white bandages, the stark white fabric standing out against the dark cotton of his shirt. His hair was still slightly damp from a morning wash, a few strands falling across his forehead.Avery had just finished organizing the documents on the desk. The files were stacked neatl
Avery stared at those words. Her phone hit the carpet. Before she could pick it up, Dominic was already moving."Drake. Clear the entire second floor. Inside and out." His brow was tight, his face stone serious."Dorothea's room. Now."Footsteps surged from every direction.The living room lights a
Morning came.Dominic's chair was empty.When Avery woke up, he was already dressed. Hearing her stir, he turned."Let's go. The lab."He didn't give her time to hesitate.Drake stayed behind to watch the house. The car waited at the gate.Dominic walked ahead in a dark tactical jacket. Avery follo
Dorothea lowered her head and went back to drawing. The crayon scratched across the paper."Dorothea." Avery crouched beside her daughter."Who told you that number?"Dorothea didn't look up. "I saw it.""Where did you see it?"The little girl's hand stopped. She put down the crayon, picked up her
A gunshot cracked through the air.Before Avery could react, a hand shoved her head down. She was yanked into someone's chest, hard.The bullet hit the spot where she had been standing. Wall chips scattered everywhere.She looked up. It was Dominic.His chin pressed against the top of her head. His







