Two days later.
The metallic hum of the hall echoed softly as Zemin tightened the straps on his gloves, pulling his hoodie over his head. The bruises had faded, and the scars were barely visible, but Kiichi's smug grin was etched in his mind, deeper than any physical wound.
He stepped into the dimly lit reception area, where the air carried a faint scent of smoke and cheap coffee.
At the head of the table sat Shuren, a cigarette dangling from her fingers, while Pixia was seated, engrossed in the mission file. Taura stood beside Shuren, her left hand resting confidently on her hip.
As soon as Shuren spotted Zemin, she exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"
Zemin shoved his hands into his pockets, unfazed. "Yeah, whatever."
He walked over to Taura, who gave him a small nod a mix of encouragement and a silent warning not to mess this up.
Pixia didn't look up at first, still scrolling through her data screen. "Alright, listen up, pupster," she finally said, her tone sharp and professional. "You're getting your first field mission. It's a duo-type, which means you ain't gonna be flying solo."
Zemin raised an eyebrow. "Duo? With who?"
"She is standing—."
"Right here," Taura chimed in, her face lighting up with pride.
"Huh."
Zemin looked utterly bewildered, tilting his head as if trying to shake off a dream. But no, he was wide awake.
"Taura, are you seriously talking about Taura?" Zemin asked, still trying to wrap his head around it.
"Yeah, you got a problem with her?" Shuren shot back.
"No problem at all."
"Good now Pixia continue."
"Alright my dear baby-daby."
She turned the city map over, her eyes locking onto the red district that lit up on Raksa Street.
"The job's straightforward," Pixia said, her tone steady. "A shipment of drugs, a high-grade street mix called SAZ, is being funneled into the city. It's coming through a front bar on Raksa. Your mission is to take out the supply and anyone guarding it. Quietly, if you can."
Zemin leaned in, studying the map intently. "And what if it's not quiet?"
Shuren chuckled softly. "Then make sure there's no one left to raise a fuss."
Pixia shot her a sharp glance but chose not to argue.
"You'll be heading out in 30 minutes. Taura, as we mentioned, will be your partner. So, have fun."
Zemin nodded once. "Understood."
Both Zemin and Taura made their way out, their footsteps gradually fading as they walked down the hallway. The door slid shut behind them, leaving Shuren and Pixia sitting at the table, the faint tendrils of smoke still dancing in the air.
Pixia leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with a playful smirk. "Honestly, Shu out of all the missions you could've thrown him into, you chose the SAZ raid?"
Shuren let out a puff of smoke through her nose. "Yeah, and? You don't get it. It's my way of putting him to the test. Sure, the main case wrapped up four days ago, but this leftover mess? It's the perfect warm-up for him."
Pixia chuckled softly. "That's my baby-daby always looking out for the hopeless. But even for you, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?"
"Who cares?" Shuren shot back, her tone flat. "If he wants to be part of the Sweepers, he's got to step up. Everyone even you went through the same initiation."
Pixia raised an eyebrow, still grinning. "Yeah, but our trials were a lot less lukewarm than this one."
Shuren shot her a sharp look, exhaled one last puff of smoke, and then stood up from her chair. She didn't bother to reply just turned and started walking down the hallway.
Pixia watched her leave, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. "Still got that stick up your ass, huh, Shu…" she muttered under her breath, unable to hide her grin.
Pixia watched as Shuren vanished down the hallway, the sound of her boots gradually fading away. The smile that had been on her lips slowly faded too.
Leaning forward, she picked up a slender folder from the table—it was Zemin's profile. Inside, the pages were marked, with blacked-out lines obscuring parts of the text. As her eyes scanned the details, her expression grew more serious.
"I really wonder…" she murmured to herself. "How could that even be explained?"
With a gentle motion, she closed the file, her gaze drifting off into the distance. "Maybe I'll have to mention it to her… when they finally meet."
The room fell into silence once more, broken only by the soft hum of the lights and the lingering curl of smoke where Shuren had just been sitting.
The wind gently caressed Zemin's face as he stood at the rooftop's edge, gazing down at the vibrant streets below. Even as twilight settled in, the city buzzed with life neon signs flickered, music spilled from nearby bars, and the mingling scents of smoke and rain hung in the air.
He couldn't deny it.
Amidst all its chaos, the city was undeniably beautiful.
"You done with your sightseeing, Zeii?"
Zemin snapped back to reality just as Taura leaned in, her playful grin sharp as a knife. The light from a nearby billboard danced in her eyes.
"First mission," she said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's make it hella fun, don't you think?"
Zemin remained unfazed, his tone steady and his gaze locked on the streets below.
"Yeah," he replied softly. "Let's."
Then—
Engines roared.
The rumble of cars reverberated through the narrow streets. Taura immediately crouched down, pulling out a pair of binoculars to scan the area.
"There," she whispered. "Three cars. Black vans. Same model. No plates."
She adjusted her focus and smirked.
"Bingo. That's our shipment. Looks like they're dropping it off sooner than we thought."
Zemin moved closer, his silver eyes narrowing as the headlights sliced through the smoke and rain below.
"Then we need to move fast," he said, his voice icy.
Down below, the scene unfolded.
Three black vans screeched to a halt outside a rundown bar with a flickering neon sign that read THE HOT SWAN. The glowing letters buzzed weakly in the damp night air a perfect cover for shady dealings.
The van doors swung open one after another.
Men began to spill out.
Not your typical drunks or street thugs these guys were organized.
Dark suits. Polished shoes. Each one armed, their weapons concealed but not subtle enough to escape a trained eye.
Taura adjusted her binoculars again, her playful grin fading into something more serious.
"Twenty in total," she muttered. "All packing heat. This isn't just a street junk run this is a full-blown operation."
Zemin crouched next to her, his gaze steady yet taking in every little detail the way the cars were lined up, the spacing of the men, their subtle movements.
Then, the last van door swung open.
A man stepped out he stood apart from the others. His suit was sharper, more tailored. In his right hand, he held a black suitcase, gripping it with careful precision.
Taura's eyes narrowed. "There's our package."
The man quickly scanned the area before raising two fingers in a deliberate gesture a silent signal. Immediately, four of his men broke away from the group and trailed behind him toward the entrance of the bar.
The Hot Swan's door creaked open, and a dim red light spilled out as they slipped inside.
"Four inside, sixteen out front," Taura whispered. "They're keeping watch while he makes the deal."
Zemin's silver eyes caught the glow of the bar's neon lights. He slowly cracked his neck, his expression unreadable.
"Then we take out the head first."