Zhu and Qingyi drove in silence toward Golden Eridu Hotel, the weight of the investigation pressing down on them. No real intel had been squeezed out of the patient, and Zhu was certain he was bluffing—or HSO was hiding something crucial.
She ran through her thoughts. Gavin was from Vesta Quarters, the same place Elias had warned her to keep Mr. Hyun Li away from. Could Elias know that Vesta is too corrupted? That it's crawling with Crimson Veil?
The thought nagged at her. She wanted to ask Elias directly, but... he'd ghosted her. Typical.
Part of her really wanted to cry. This case was more emotionally taxing than any of the physical ones she'd dealt with.
"Captain," Qingyi said suddenly, breaking the silence, "no matter what happens, please hit the brakes." Her face straight dead pan.
Zhu gave her a look, one part irritation, two parts exhaustion, and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
"Qingyi, I'm not thinking about slamming our mobile," Zhu muttered, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shake off the tension. "I'm just trying to figure out what in the hollow's going on."
Her thoughts spiraled back to the case. Jane had texted them earlier about a breakthrough from the forensics team. They needed to get to the hotel, fast.
Zhu exhaled, pushing her frustration aside. Focus. Just get through this...
Qingyi tilted her head, her eyes still scanning the road, but Zhu could swear she caught a hint of amusement flicker across her face. "Sure, Captain. Whatever you say," she said, the tone light and teasing.
Zhu shot her a glance, but Qingyi was already back to being the ever-serene passenger, sipping from her cup of hot water like everything was normal.
At least somebody's relaxed.
The hotel parking lot buzzed with activity as usual, Zhu pulled in, her tires barely skidding to a halt. The PUBSEC Forensics Bus loomed over the makeshift outpost, its massive frame bustling with personnel rushing between equipment, monitors, and evidence tables. Zhu and Qingyi wasted no time, weaving through the chaos until they spotted Jane amidst a huddle around a glowing monitor.
"Jane, what's the lead?" Zhu called out, her tone a mix of determination and fatigue as she joined the circle.
Jane turned, her face lit with an urgency that mirrored Zhu's. "Zhu, you need to see this. We've found something... and it could be big."
She gestured to the monitor, where an enlarged image of a sleek dart was displayed, its metallic surface showing faint traces of residue. "This dart was recovered from the scene—it missed its target," Jane said, her voice low. "And it's not just any dart; it's got ties to your Cold Case."
Zhu's heart pounded as she flipped through her notes, images of old evidence flashing in her mind. "Chemical darts," she murmured, recalling details from past reports. "Designed to paralyze on impact... but this one didn't land."
The forensic lead spoke up, glancing between Zhu and Jane. "Exactly. Once it makes contact, the chemical gets absorbed through the skin, delivering an electric shock potent enough to incapacitate, yet leaving only needle. But this one's different—more advanced than what we've seen before."
"Which means he's upgraded," Zhu replied, the weight of the discovery pressing on her. "But could he have gained access to such advanced tech?"
Qingyi, squinting as she peered through the microscope, chimed in. "Not quite, Captain. Look at the dart's finish. This wasn't machine-manufactured—it's hand-crafted. Precise, yes, but it's a tinkerer's work, not factory-made."
Zhu's mind raced, pieces clicking into place as a possibility loomed. "So, The Pacifist's methods haven't just evolved; they've become... personal."
Zhu's mind spun with questions, even though the thoughts are absurd she's trying to remember if Elias had ever carried any sort of issued weapon. He'd always appeared unarmed at their dinner meetings—never once a hint of PUBSEC-standard gear on him. She shook her head slightly, pushing aside her doubts.
"This isn't one of our standard taser rounds," she muttered, almost to herself. "I'd know—I've got one right here." Her fingers brushed against her belt, where her own issued taser sat, feeling worlds apart from the sleek, handcrafted dart on the screen.
Jane leaned in, eyebrow raised. "So... tie this to your Cold Case, Cap?"
"It's likely," Zhu replied, glancing at the dart again. "But we can't just announce to the media that 'The Pacifist' is back. If he catches wind, he'll vanish all over again, and this case will freeze solid."
"I need more clues..." she muttered. "Have you checked their escape routes?" Zhu asked, raising an eyebrow with a hopeful glance.
"Skid marks lead to one of the Outer Ring biker gangs," Jane replied.
"It may sound absurd but, we found some tire skid marks."
"Skid marks?" Zhu's interest piqued.
"Yes a tire skid mark, small lead but we can try digging into it." Jane replied propping her hand on her chin, "My informant recognizes the pattern. We could visit that merchant in the western city and see what he knows," Jane said, her tone lively. This breakthrough seemed to lift Zhu's spirits, reminding her that having Jane on the team—despite her earlier hesitation—was proving valuable.
"Alright, I owe you a dessert box from J.D. if this works out," Zhu said, her mood lightening.
Jane chuckled. "No need, Cap. I've got my own snacks right here," she said, tapping her belt with a grin.
They drove off toward the western side of the city, chasing down their next lead. Zhu's stomach grumbled in protest—she'd missed lunch, but there was no time for that now. The clock was ticking, and every second felt like it counted. Qingyi was back at the investigation base, poring over security footage and tracking potential escape routes.
Zhu unbuttoned her PUBSEC jacket with a sigh, tossing it onto the backseat like it was a bothersome coworker she was done arguing with. Beneath, she wore a simple long-sleeved top tucked into high-waisted black pants. She gave herself a quick once-over and frowned. The look screamed "corporate pitch meeting" rather than "undercover operative." She could practically hear Jane snickering in her head, saying, "Are you trying to negotiate a merger with the gang or arrest them?"
Beside her, Jane looked perfectly in character without even trying. Her oversized jacket hung lazily off her frame, paired with a shorts and thigh-high stockings that screamed "street-savvy rebel." Zhu gave her a side-eye. "Why do you always look like you just walked off an edgy fashion blog?" she muttered, knowing full well Jane could hear her but was too focused on driving to respond.
Of course, Zhu thought, shifting uncomfortably in her too-formal outfit. I'm the one who looks like I should be signing NDAs, while Jane looks like she's about to hustle someone out of their life savings. Undercover my foot—next time, I'm wearing sneakers.
Jane while on the wheel, her attention laser-focused as she navigated through crowded streets. Zhu sat beside her, staring down at her phone, repeatedly dialing Elias's old number. The silence on the other end didn't budge. Each unanswered call seemed to knot her chest tighter.
"I need to talk to you, Elias. Don't make this harder for me, there is a lot of breakthrough on the case!" she whispered, barely loud enough for herself to hear.
Jane glanced over, noticing Zhu's distracted expression. "How're you holding up, Cap?" she asked with a knowing smirk, a playful gleam in her eye.
"I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Zhu muttered, not looking up, her gaze lost in the passing blur of buildings. She let out a long, exasperated sigh. "When this is over, I'm heading straight to Burnice's Nightro Fest. I'll drink until all these damn feelings are gone."
Jane's brow arched, curiosity lighting up her face. "Nightro Fest? What's that—some festival where the mighty Public Security Cap goes to drown her sorrows?"
Zhu waved her hand, brushing it off. "It's nothing. Just something I said."
"Right." Jane's grin widened, her voice teasing. "So, you're cultured now, huh? Drinking away your heartbreak in style. Come on, spill. Why do you keep calling him? Your secret's safe with me."
Zhu glanced at her and, for a moment, stayed silent, weighing her words. She sighed, sounding almost defeated. "I just... I needed to talk to him regarding our case. But he's gone dark."
"Obviously," Jane chuckled. "But have you considered he might be busy with a critical mission? These agents do crazy stuff, you know. Maybe he's gone dark to protect you. Imagine—you're alone in your apartment, minding your business, when some thugs kick down the door. They take you hostage, and he's not there to swoop in." She waggled her eyebrows dramatically. "Ever think of that?"
Zhu turned to her, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face. "How'd you come up with that?"
Jane's tone took on a serious edge. "I'm an undercover agent, silly goose. We always think this way. We don't just protect ourselves; we protect the people close to us too."
Zhu paused, taking that in, then muttered, "If he's gone dark, fine. But at least give me some closure. I just need to know where he stands." She shifted her gaze to the window, her mind wandering.
Jane leaned in, her smirk returning, her voice dropping to a dark whisper. "Or maybe... he's out there, captured and chained up. Tortured, calling out your name." She paused for effect, then grinned even wider. "Or—oh, maybe he's dead!" She cackled, clearly amused by her own twisted sense of humor.
Zhu's eyes went wide, her stomach doing a backflip. "Hey, stop that, Jane! IT'S NOT FUNNY!" She glared at her, her face paling as a hint of worry crept through her mask of composure.
Jane leaned back, barely holding back laughter. "Wow, you're already picturing your wedding with this guy, aren't you?"
"No! I'm just not into morbid jokes, okay? My anxiety doesn't need help," Zhu shot back, her voice shaking slightly.
"Alright, alright. My bad," Jane chuckled, raising her hands in mock surrender. "But hey, what if he really is just trying to keep everyone safe? Give it a thought."
Zhu shifted uncomfortably, catching herself biting her nails, her nerves still prickling from Jane's twisted joke. Well, she's definitely right?
Jane, clearly enjoying herself, leaned back with a mischievous grin. "Y'know, I once ghosted a guy for a year—for a mission. It's a rite of passage."
Zhu rolled her eyes, the skepticism evident. "Another story? Seriously, I'm not buying it." She raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the lingering tension from Jane's dramatics.
They slowed to a stop at a dusty stop-over gas station, the kind that looked like it had been around longer than anyone cared to admit, well obviously this is familiar to Zhu. Mirage Motors loomed ahead, a gritty pit stop for anyone who called the Outer Ring home.
The place had an unpolished charm—neon signs that barely blinked, the hum of a refrigerator that sounded like it was on its last legs, and a lingering mix of gasoline and greasy food in the air. Jane cruised through the parking lot, her eyes narrowing at the group of bikers sprawled across the lot.
Most were women, their leather jackets and scuffed boots giving them an air of both defiance and nonchalance. The Sons of Calydon were definitely staking their claim today.
Jane couldn't resist. "Sons of Calydon? More like Chics of Calydon if you ask me."
Zhu shot her a quick glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I already said that line," she muttered, her gaze flickering briefly to the memory of her last visit. This place had a way of sticking in her head—too well, in fact.
The faint scent of greasy food from the nearby diner and the hum of engines revving brought back the echoes of an undercover mission that almost went sideways. She had barely made it out unscathed last time. Her hand unconsciously tightened around the door handle, but she quickly shoved the thought aside.
"Hey, don't park directly in front of the convenience store," Zhu suggested, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Park next to one of those Calydon bikes. Trust me."
Jane shot her a confused glance, grip tight on the steering wheel. "What? Are you sure?"
Zhu's eyes flicked toward the two familiar bikers leaning against the back wall. They were doing that thing again—too casual for comfort, yet clearly keeping an eye on things. Classic biker gang move: collecting "voluntary" parking fees. Zhu's stomach twisted, not because of the bikers themselves, but because of what could go wrong if she got spotted again.
"They're friendly," she muttered, though the word felt more like a quiet prayer than a reassurance. This place brought out the tension in her, and she wasn't about to take any chances.
Jane eyed the bikers skeptically. "Friendly? Yeah, sure, that's exactly the word I'd use."
Zhu exhaled softly. "Just park."
With a resigned sigh, Jane maneuvered the car into a spot beside a gleaming black motorcycle. Its chrome handlebars caught the weak sunlight, almost too shiny for the rest of the gas station's rusted chaos. The murmur of idle chatter from the bikers surrounded them as they stepped out of the car. Despite its modest size, the place had a strange, almost eerie vibe to it, like something was always simmering beneath the surface.
Zhu, ever the chameleon, slipped into the scene without a hitch. She knew how to blend in here, moving with practiced ease. Jane, on the other hand, felt like an outsider in a world of leather jackets and engine grease. But today, she'd follow Zhu's lead—she always did.
"Alright, Cap," Jane said with a grin, "you've got the wheel. I'm just here for the ride."
Zhu gave her a quick glance, a playful spark in her eyes. "Let's just hope the ride doesn't end in a brawl."
Jane handed over the tablet, their fingers brushing briefly as she passed it to Zhu. "Back of the convenience store, there's a motorbike workshop," she said, totally chill about it.
Zhu barely heard her. She was too busy scanning the scene ahead. The energy in the parking lot shifted the moment they stepped onto the lot. The Sons of Calydon were here in full force, and they didn't just stand around. They owned the place. The way they carried themselves—casual yet full of confidence—reminded Zhu of one person in particular: Caesar King.
Her pulse picked up.
And just as if the Hollow gods themselves were messing with her, there she was—Caesar, leaning confidently on a bike, back of the workshop, talking to a mechanic with a cigar hanging out of his mouth. Her presence was commanding, not because she was trying to be, but because she didn't have to try. Even in the midst of a casual conversation, there was something sharp about her—like she could read the room with one glance.
Zhu froze.
Author's Note: Hi Readers, some of you may have come from Wattpad and noticed small discrepancies in the story. A few parts, especially the 'uncut' chapters, are raw straight from my word processor.
Please leave a review on my story! Sorry to anyone who isn't a fan of OCs—because honestly, fanfics are way more fun when you can introduce your own character into the mix. And hey, adding your own twist is what makes fanfiction, well, fiction! Cheers, thank you, and you're truly appreciated!