Ryan Li stood silently as the middle-aged department chief rambled on in front of him. The man's words blurred into static.
But one thing was clear—Ryan was done dreaming small.
"Chief," he cut in, "you're saying the position is open?"
The chief nodded. "Lac Thanh's name is everywhere—California, even across Eagle Nation's web. You're trending like wildfire."
He grinned awkwardly. "So yeah… the higher-ups suggested we install you as the new leader of the Fifth Cell."
"The... what now?" Ryan asked.
"The elite unit of the Intelligence Division," the chief explained. "Technically, there's a vice-captain in charge—Andrew Taylor—but he's retiring next year. No one's expecting him to move up."
Ryan nodded.
Good. He wasn't here to sit in anyone's shadow.
"Come on, I'll show you your new squad," the chief said.
—
A few minutes later, Ryan stepped into the Fifth Cell's bullpen. The moment he appeared, the team snapped to attention.
The chief clapped his hands. "Team, meet your new cell captain—Ryan Li."
Every eye turned toward him.
There were five members:
Nina: tall, lean, black-haired with hints of Indian blood—legs that could cause car accidents.
Thomas: blonde, pale, sharply cut features. Calm and sharp-eyed.
Jeremy Davis: Latin roots, sun-kissed skin, gaze like a hawk.
Giselle: quarter-Gypsy, charming and intuitive.
Grace: cold as ice, smart as hell, dressed like a courtroom assassin. She was the vice-captain—and she barely spared Ryan a glance.
After a round of brief introductions, the squad got back to work. Or tried to.
They quickly surrounded Ryan, throwing questions like darts.
"Captain, are you really not scared? I mean, you faced down a thousand people like it was nothing!"
"Captain, can I scan your vitals? Just for curiosity…"
"Nina, are you flirting with the boss again?"
Ryan waved them off. "Enough. Get back to work."
Grace didn't say a word. She simply dropped a massive case file on Ryan's desk and walked off.
"This one's yours," she said coolly.
Ryan raised a brow. "That's it? No breakdown?"
"You're smart. You'll figure it out."
The moment she turned her back, the rest of the team exploded in whispers.
"She just handed him the hardest file we've got..."
"Think she's testing him?"
"More like trying to break him."
Ryan ignored them. He opened the folder—and his eyes narrowed.
A serial murder.
Victims stabbed through the heart. No fingerprints. No DNA. No entry signs.
Nina stepped closer, her voice hushed. "We've been working that case for months. Still nothing."
Ryan's fingers flew across the notes. His eyes flicked from timestamp to motive. From victim to missing spouse. From odd clues… to overlooked footage.
Then he stopped.
"There," he muttered. "The killer's not the husband. It's her ballet instructor."
"What?" Nina blinked.
"She claimed he was out working. But the timestamps show overlap. More importantly, there's a giraffe puppet in every scene. But one was missing an arm."
"...What does that have to do with—?"
"She used the puppet to smuggle the murder weapon. Hollow wood. Sharp enough to pierce a heart."
The room went silent.
Then erupted.
"Holy sh*t—he cracked it!"
"Captain just solved a triple homicide!"
"No way—how did he even connect the puppet?!"
"Did we just get Sherlock Holmes'd?"
Grace, standing by the glass window, didn't say a word.
But her eyes were no longer cold.
They were burning.
—
Half an hour later, the entire Fifth Cell was out in the field, hunting suspects and chasing down leads based on Ryan's deductions.
The Intelligence Division was buzzing.
"He solved ten cold cases in a day?!"
"How the hell is that possible?"
"This guy's not a detective—he's a damn miracle."
Meanwhile, Captain Erin smirked as she watched the chaos unfold.
Finally. Someone who can shake up this dusty place.
And shake it, Ryan did.
By sundown, the name Ryan Li had become legend inside the division.
They didn't just call him captain.
They started calling him:
The God-Tier Detective.