Wolfe had ditched his previous pajamas and was now dressed in an elegant suit, looking every bit the part of a man in control. Six black-clad bodyguards stood by his side, each of them exuding a quiet but palpable aura of danger. Wolfe, however, didn’t seem the least bit worried.

  “Skye, you’ve been suspended, yet here you are, causing a scene. Do you not take the law seriously?” Wolfe said calmly, lighting up a cigar with a smirk.

  Skye raised an eyebrow. “I’m just here to watch the show. Suspension doesn’t mean resignation, Mr. Wolfe. I’ve heard plenty of juicy rumors about you. It’s pointless for you to stall—move aside.”

  Wolfe shrugged, stepping aside to let Skye pass. He had no intention of putting up any resistance. But Nash stepped forward, blocking the way of the law enforcement officers. His usual grace had vanished, replaced with a scowl.

  “Mr. Vexler, I’ve always respected you as a veteran in the field. But your subordinates are acting out of line. Never mind what happened before, just today, you—” Nash was furious.

  Vexler stepped up, made his own position clear. The two groups clashed for a few moments, the tension building, but in the end, the law enforcement team pushed through. A long line of them marched into the hotel, drawing the attention of a growing crowd of onlookers.

  “Axel, I’m Vince,” a voice interrupted Axel’s observation.

  Axel turned to see the man who had been standing next to Vexler. Vince extended his hand with a friendly smile. Axel shook it, offering a nod of acknowledgment.

  “I heard you were the one who planned this operation. Now that it’s all coming to a head, you don’t look so pleased. Why’s that?”

  Axel shrugged, his exhaustion evident. “The operation’s not going as smoothly as it should, and I’m also drained.”

  Vince seemed to probe further. “What makes you think things aren’t going to go smoothly? All the clues are pointing in the right direction.”

  Axel studied Vince for a moment. There was something about the man—his calm demeanor and probing questions—that felt like he wasn’t just curious. It was more like he was confirming something, almost like an examiner.

  “Stopping things here doesn’t make much sense,” Axel said, his voice low. “Now that everything’s in motion, there’s no turning back. Wolfe didn’t run, which means they’re not panicking. They’re just trying to delay us, probably stalling for time. They must’ve done something to cover their tracks.”

  Vince nodded, and his evaluation of Axel in his heart has improved a lot again. His thoughts aligned with Axel’s—he could tell the kid wasn’t just guessing.

  “Skye’s a careful guy,” Vince muttered to himself, “he’d have thought of this too.”

  Axel’s gaze drifted back toward the hotel. He had already studied the building thoroughly when they were inside earlier, but now something was different. He noticed a faint, greenish light flickering in the lower levels, just below the underground boxing ring.

  .....

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As the Law Enforcement Bureau swarmed into the hotel, Nash and Cross, who had been standing off to the side, made their way over to Wolfe. Unlike Wolfe, who still carried himself with an unshakable calm, both Nash and Cross were visibly on edge.

  “Mr. Wolfe, you’re so composed. I can't tell what you’re really thinking,” Nash said, his voice tight with tension.

  Wolfe looked at him with a knowing smile. He understood—Nash was in his forties, and the situation was spiraling out of his control, so it was only natural for him to feel nervous.

  Cross, the deputy director, was a blip in Wolfe’s mind, just another small player in the game.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t find anything,” Wolfe said, tossing his cigar aside with a flick of his wrist. A sharp grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Now, let’s go. Let’s watch the show.”

  Nash and Cross exchanged uneasy glances, but Wolfe’s confidence gave them a strange sense of reassurance.

  Following the witness’s testimony, Skye and his team arrived on the floor where the underground boxing ring was supposed to be. Only the emergency lights were on, casting long shadows down the narrow hallway. At the end of the corridor, they found what they were looking for: a black switch.

  Skye exchanged a quick glance with Freya before giving orders for their men to stay alert, guns at the ready. According to the testimony, this was an experimental site, which meant the likelihood of encountering infected individuals was high.

  The group moved cautiously, weapons drawn, and followed Skye and the two other captains. When they reached the end of the corridor, their path was blocked by a massive alloy door with a high-tech electronic keypad next to it.

  “Don't play tricks.” Skye growled, gesturing for the hotel manager to come forward. He was dragged to the keypad and, after hesitating for a moment, punched in the code. The door’s gears groaned, and it slowly slid open.

  What lay behind it froze everyone in place.

  “W-what is this?” Freya whispered, her voice barely audible. The law enforcement team exchanged uncertain glances, and Skye’s grip on his gun tightened, his mind racing.

  Vexler stepped forward, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.

  The room was nothing like what they expected. There was no lingering stench of decay or blood. Instead, a subtle sandalwood fragrance filled the air. A European chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. The space, around 100 square meters, was decorated with antique cabinets and framed ink paintings on the walls—nothing about it screamed a secret laboratory.

  But despite the fine decor, the reality hit like a punch to the gut. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  “They moved everything,” Freya muttered, her voice small and defeated. “We’re too late.”

  Skye knew she was right. He had been keeping the Crown Hotel under surveillance ever since Wolfe was captured. There was no way an infected person could have been snuck out without him noticing. If they had been moved, it had to have happened sometime between this afternoon and evening.

  But where did Wolfe take them? An infected person wasn’t something you could just smuggle out in the trunk of a car. These things were over two meters tall and much larger than a normal person.

  Despite having enough evidence to nail Wolfe, the way they had gotten the confession was murky—an unauthorized action. Without hard, on-site evidence, they’d have nothing. This could all spiral out of control, and Skye couldn’t afford another mistake.

  Just as the silence grew unbearable, the sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoed from behind them.

  Skye turned, his pulse skipping a beat.

  Wolfe stood there, his expression cool and composed, a sly grin playing at the edges of his lips as he walked into the room, flanked by his bodyguards.

  "Captain Skye," Wolfe said, his voice dripping with amusement, “Do you still think there’s something wrong with me?”

  Nash, Cross, and several other key officials walked into the hall, their eyes darting toward Skye with a hint of gloating.

  Skye didn’t say anything, but a wave of dizziness hit him. Though the people around him remained silent, their stares felt like daggers cutting through him.

  As the tension hung in the air, Axel slowly stepped forward. The faint green light from before became clearer, growing brighter with each step.

  It wasn’t just one green light anymore. There were two.

  But Axel couldn’t reach them, couldn’t touch them, couldn’t absorb them.

  Because the green lights were just beneath them, a mere three or four meters away, hidden below the floor.