Episode 5 — The Wolves in Uniform
Nexus City glittered above like a neon crown, but down in the depths of HQ, the air smelled like metal, whiskey, and rot.
Kairo Shin sat in the briefing room, cigarette smoke curling above him. His boots were still red from last night's nightclub massacre. Nobody said a word about it. Nobody asked. They just stared, whispering behind his back: psycho, butcher, demon with a badge.
He didn't give a shit.
The Commander strode in, eyes glowing under cybernetic lids. "Attention. We've got a bigger problem. Files are leaking again. Evidence. Witness lists. Someone high up is selling out entire worlds to cartels."
Murmurs spread through the squad. Captains, lieutenants, commissioners—these weren't street rats. This was the brass.
Kairo smirked. "Looks like your bosses are just as dirty as your dealers."
A few officers glared at him. One spat, "Watch your mouth, Shin."
Kairo blew smoke in his face. "Or what? You gonna file a complaint? I'll file you in a morgue."
The room went dead quiet. Even the Commander cracked a grin.
⸻
The Meeting
That night, the Commander pulled Kairo aside, whiskey on his breath.
"You're not wrong," he muttered. "Commissioner Veyra. She runs the Nexus armory. Reports say she's been selling plasma cannons to gangs across five galaxies."
Kairo leaned against the wall, arms folded, calm. "So why the fuck is she still breathing?"
"Because she's a commissioner," the Commander said bitterly. "She's untouchable. Politicians protect her. Media loves her. The law bends around her."
Kairo grinned coldly. "Good thing I don't give a fuck about law."
The Commander poured him a drink, eyes gleaming. "That's why I like you, Shin. Go pay her a visit. And don't hold back."
Kairo downed the whiskey, lit another cigarette. "I never do."
The Commissioner's Palace
Commissioner Veyra lived like royalty. Her penthouse rose above Nexus like a spire, glass walls glowing in soft blues, filled with gold statues and silk carpets. Outside, guards with rifles stood watch, eyes sharp.
Kairo strolled right up, hands in pockets.
One guard sneered. "Hey, rookie, where's your warrant?"
Kairo smirked, calm as ever. "Right here."
The tentacle burst from his arm, slicing the man in half. The second guard screamed, raising his gun—tentacle through the eye, brain splattering the marble wall.
Inside, alarms blared. Servants screamed. Kairo walked through the carnage like he owned the place.
⸻
Commissioner Veyra
She waited in her office, a towering woman draped in jewels, drink in hand, legs crossed. She didn't flinch as he entered, stepping over blood.
"Kairo Shin," she said smoothly. "The psycho rookie. The Commander's dog. I've heard the stories."
Kairo leaned on her desk, blowing smoke in her face. "Stories are boring. Truth's worse."
She smirked. "Do you know how many worlds I control? How many politicians bend for me? I could buy and sell your soul ten times over."
Kairo chuckled. "Lady, I don't have a soul. Just tentacles and bad manners."
Her eyes narrowed. "The Commander sent you, didn't he?"
"Didn't need to," Kairo said calmly. "I smelled the rot."
The Offer
She stood, leaning close, perfume sharp and sweet. "You don't have to kill me. Work with me. I can make you rich beyond dreams. Women, power, drugs—everything. You're wasted playing errand boy for a half-cyborg drunk. You should be running this department."
Kairo's eyes narrowed, cold. "Tempting."
"Then take it," she whispered, brushing his chest. "We could rule together. You and me. Think of the blood we'd spill."
Kairo took a long drag, exhaled smoke in her face. "You smell desperate."
Her eyes widened.
The tentacle ripped through her stomach, lifting her off the ground. She gasped, blood dripping down her dress, jewels rattling as her body shook.
"You—you idiot," she coughed. "Kill me and you'll have the whole department hunting you."
Kairo smirked. "Let 'em try."
The tentacle split into a dozen blades and tore her apart, jewels scattering across the floor like broken teeth.
[Assassination Confirmed.]
[Level Up: 8.]
[Intelligence Increased.]
His brain clicked sharper again—political connections, financial trails, who else was dirty, who would try to cover this up. He saw betrayal spiraling upward like a ladder he was meant to climb.
The Joke of Power
As her guards burst in, Kairo turned, drenched in blood.
One guard froze, eyes wide. "Holy fuck…"
Kairo pointed at him with the cigarette. "Go ahead. Clean this up. Say she choked on a dick the size of a plasma cannon for all I care."
The guard swallowed hard, nodded frantically.
Kairo strolled out of the penthouse, calm, smoking.
⸻
Back at HQ
The Commander poured two glasses of whiskey when Kairo returned. "Ugly?" he asked.
Kairo set the commissioner's severed ring, still dripping, on the desk. "Beautiful."
The Commander smirked. "The higher-ups are gonna come for you, Shin. They'll call you rogue. Dangerous. Unstable."
Kairo grinned. "They're right."
The Commander raised his glass. "Good. That's what we need."
The Anti-Hero's Path
Later, Kairo stood on the balcony of HQ, smoke curling against the neon skyline. He thought of his parents for half a second, then shrugged it off. Dead was dead.
All that mattered was the climb. Every crime solved, every betrayal crushed, every kill sharpened him further. He wasn't a cop. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't even human anymore.
He was the inevitable.
And the department was rotten enough to keep feeding him forever.
⸻
[Current Level: 8 | Intelligence Status: Political strategist. Sees corruption webs instantly. Colder, smoother, untouchable.]