The young man, having reverted to his original appearance, turned to his superior and asked, "Sir, what should we do with the box they delivered?"
The middle-aged man thought for a moment before replying, "Report everything we've encountered to headquarters. Then give the box a thorough check."
"Should we open it, sir?" the young man asked.
"No, that's too risky. The contents should be dealt with by personnel from HQ. For now, we'll confirm that there's no immediate danger."
The burly Black man pulled a data cable from the back of his neck and plugged it into a device.
He then ran the device carefully over every surface of the box, inspecting it with meticulous precision.
Soon after, he reported his findings to the middle-aged man. "Sir, chemical analysis shows no traces of gas or explosives on the box's surface."
The middle-aged man looked toward the younger subordinate. The young man nodded and reported, "No traces of electronic devices either."
The man turned back to the Black technician. "Thomas, what about the X-ray?"
The glow in Thomas's cybernetic eyes dimmed briefly. "Just finished the scan, sir. Nothing unusual. Looks like just a few books inside."
"You sure there aren't any disguised coatings or camouflage?"
"Unfortunately, our current equipment isn't capable of such detailed analysis," Thomas replied.
The middle-aged officer gave a short nod. "Alright then, let's leave it at that for now. Ben, store the box safely. We'll proceed with our mission from HQ. The rest is up to the people they send."
---
Arasaka Counterintelligence Division.
The earlier crisis regarding leaked classified intel had gradually settled down within the division. But now, the sudden blaring of a special alarm once again threw the entire floor into chaos.
"Quick, report to Director Jenkins! That person's account just showed activity again!"
"Explain clearly! What exactly happened?"
"A sum of money was just transferred out from the leaker's account. It went to a small-time intermediary in the Valley District. Wait, the hackers just traced it—he anonymously hired two street mercs to deliver a package to an apartment. That transfer was the payment for this job!"
"Finally! That bastard has slipped up. Get in touch with the local field operatives now!"
Just then, Jenkins's communication line connected to the command center.
"What's the situation?" he asked.
"Director, there's been more activity from the suspect's bank account. It links to two street mercenaries and an apartment. We've already dispatched operatives in the Valley District to investigate."
Jenkins nodded in approval. "Split the team into three groups. One investigates the apartment. Another detains the two mercs for questioning. The last one searches their residences. Also, have HQ assemble a support squad."
"Yes, Director!"
The Arasaka counterintel staff scrambled into action. Amid the flurry of movement, no one noticed the subtle motions of Qiu Shui Xue Yue. Not even the hackers raising hell in cyberspace picked up the faint flicker along the department's external communication line.
Qiu Shui Xue Yue sent a message to a contact. This contact had no alias, just a dragon avatar with a metallic sheen.
"The counterintel division is moving."
The reply came quickly, a simple period—indicating acknowledgment.
Moments later, another message followed:
"I thought you'd object to this plan. Those mercs are at least acquaintances of yours, aren't they?"
"You once asked me how far I was willing to go for vengeance. This is my answer."
A long pause passed before the Iron Dragon finally responded.
"You don't sound like someone addressing their superior."
"You said you wanted me as a friend and comrade, not a subordinate."
This time, the Iron Dragon responded quickly.
"Then go ahead. I trust I haven't misjudged you."
---
Inside V's Apartment.
Two Arasaka field agents quietly unlocked the front door and slipped inside.
They scanned the area carefully, noting that there was no sign of anyone inside.
One agent holstered his weapon first. "Clear. No one's home."
The other agent frowned, clearly irritated by his partner's recklessness. "We haven't even searched the whole place yet."
The first agent waved him off. "Those two mercs are a pair. If they're not here, they're probably still outside. Quit dragging your feet—let's find what we need."
The reluctant agent sighed, tucked his weapon away, and started rummaging through the living room for the intel their boss demanded.
Upstairs, Yogan was in the middle of a nightmare.
In his dream, he hadn't escaped the Scavengers' lair. Instead, he had been strapped to an operating table.
In the nightmare, Yogan lay paralyzed, helpless, as a Scavenger with blood seeping from every orifice loomed over him, surgical blade in hand, aiming directly for his eyes.
"Huff… Huff…"
Yogan's eyes snapped open, and he jerked awake, drenched in cold sweat.
He didn't have time to calm down. From downstairs, a voice reached his ears:
"Quit dragging your feet—let's find what we need."
At that very instant, Yogan's system activated. Stronger than ever before, it now gave him a time-slowing effect reminiscent of Sandevistan.
Barefoot, he slid silently out of bed and crept to the door.
Using precise control, he opened it without making a sound.
Peeking through, he caught sight of the living room: two men in Arasaka suits were tossing everything about, documents and belongings scattered all over the floor.
Suddenly, one of the agents seemed to sense something. He turned toward the upstairs hallway—but it was empty. He saw nothing.
His partner noticed the movement. "What's wrong? See something?"
The first agent replied, "I think someone else is here. You keep searching—I'll check upstairs." He drew his gun and started toward the second floor.
The other agent, still kneeling among the clutter, didn't argue. He bent back down to continue the search.
Then a gunshot rang out from upstairs.
Startled, the downstairs agent dropped what he was holding, yanked out his firearm, and shouted, "What happened?"
There was no response. Just silence.
The eerie stillness set off every alarm in his head. Without another word, he bolted up the stairs.