Crack!

The suppressed round found its mark, tearing through the fugitive's thigh. The man stumbled mid-stride, momentum collapsing as he pitched forward into the dirt beside the water's edge.

"Aghhh!" he screamed, clutching his leg, writhing on the ground.

The trailing operators reached her side, rifles raised. They swept their flashlights forward, catching the downed figure in overlapping cones of light.

Moments later, more movement stirred from the shadows at the base of the villa. The trio of exterior operators—still focused on the subdued fugitive—glanced up and saw three more Spirit Fox members emerging from a concealed exit, half-crouched and alert.

It was the tunnel team.

"Target down and secured," one of them confirmed, kneeling beside the wounded man to check him for weapons and secure restraints.

"Tunnel's clear. It led out to the edge of the drainage line," another operator added. "This was their escape route."

The exterior trio exchanged brief nods, flashing a thumbs-up signal to the operators above who were watching from the high ground. In response, the upper team shut off their flashlights to avoid further attention from the surrounding residents.

Meanwhile, the captain of the entire operation keyed her radio, voice calm but firm as she summarized the results to Su Ruomei.

"Villa secured. One wounded escapee apprehended behind the perimeter. All rooms and the tunnel have been cleared. Machinery confirmed in the basement. We've taken multiple detainees—preparing exfil."

Su Ruomei responded almost instantly.

"Copy that. Get a full sweep and handover protocol started. I'll inform the higher-up to coordinate with the local police for post-operation sealing. That villa needs to be airtight—no stragglers, no equipment left unsecured."

The captain acknowledged. "Understood. We'll mark it and stay until the handover."

She turned to her team with a grim glance. "We're not leaving any holes behind. This place—no matter how unfriendly the neighbors—must be sealed tight. If we walk away without proper clearance, the locals or criminal sympathizers will scavenge the machinery the moment we turn our backs."

Nobody needed convincing. They had experienced the local's speciality and treatment toward them.

If not for the intimidating presence of guns and tactical gear, even the average troublemaker might have harassed the perimeter—and ordinary police officers would've been forced to retreat in shame.

That changed the moment the two Aegis armored vehicles arrived.

They no longer bothered to conceal themselves, rolling up with steady force to link with the previously parked vans. Their reinforced chassis gleamed under the slum's dim lighting, their engine rumbles swallowing the murmurs of the watching crowd.

The Spirit Fox operators guarding the vans allowed themselves a slight breath of relief. Not because they were afraid—none of them feared the gathering civilians—but because the armored vehicles sent a message.

A silent one: We're untouchable.

The hostility that lingered in the eyes of the locals dulled. The braver few, those considering taking photos or provoking a scene, faded into the background. Nobody wanted to throw eggs at a wall, especially one made of reinforced steel and backed by elite forces.

Even if tensions had escalated, these operators wouldn't have flinched. Firearms aside, their sheer physical prowess and unit coordination were enough to scatter a crowd.

Meanwhile, in a high-security operations center, Su Ruomei finished her report and transferred the line to Cai Ning, who was already pacing with anxiety. Upon hearing the details, her voice caught for a moment.

"You're telling me… someone was manufacturing firearms locally?"

"Yes," Su Ruomei said grimly. "Confirmed by multiple captures. DIY weapon assembly, full underground setup, tunnel escape included."

Cai Ning didn't hesitate. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the central command room.

"Qingyue, we have a situation."

When Yang Qingyue heard the full report, her expression stiffened. Neither of the police chiefs had ever anticipated such a blatant provocation—not in Province N. And certainly not an operation bold enough to manufacture weapons under their noses.

"What was the goal?" Yang muttered. "This isn't just revenge against Spirit Fox."

"No," Cai Ning agreed. "Even if the sky falls, that explanation doesn't hold water."

They stared at the screen in silence for a long beat.

But if the threat shocked them, Spirit Fox's response stunned them even more. The precision. The speed. The ruthlessness. Not that they had never seen before but the current one broadened their understanding limits. Maybe revenge played a big role here.

Within hours, all known threats had been captured, incapacitated, or neutralized.

What remained now wasn't combat—but the hunt for the true mastermind behind the curtain.

"Okay, contact the local police and surrounding stations. Send reinforcements as requested. Spirit Fox executed their part flawlessly while we've barely lifted a finger," Yang Qingyue said, her voice cool but edged with urgency. Then she paused, tapping her pen against the table. "Deploy our SWAT teams too. That slum's been a festering headache for years. This is the perfect moment to assert our police presence."

"Understood," Cai Ning nodded, already pulling out her device to issue orders.

Yang leaned back in her chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "And we still don't have a solid lead, do we? Nothing except the suspects' testimonies and the physical evidence from the villa, which all came from Spirt Fox's handover?"

Cai Ning offered another nod, slower this time, her lips pressed into a line.

Yang sighed heavily, the weight of uncertainty palpable. "Alright. You take charge of the department for now. I'm heading to Qingyu's residence. I want to see what's happening there with my own eyes."

She pushed back from the desk and began straightening her jacket and gathering a few files.

But when she looked up, Cai Ning was still standing there.

Yang raised a brow. "What?"

"Seriously?" Cai Ning crossed her arms. "There's no way I'm cleaning up the mess here on my own. I'm coming with you."

Yang blinked in brief surprise, then let out a low chuckle. Of course. Cai Ning had known her too long—and endured being dumped with paperwork far too often.

"Fine, fine. Assign the administrative load to the other deputy. You can ride with me."

"Yes, Chief!" Cai Ning grinned and offered a mock salute before turning on her heel and skipping out.

Yang Qingyue watched her go, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Poor Zhang," she murmured, lighting a silent candle of sympathy in her heart for the remaining deputy chief—who was, unfortunately, about to inherit a mountain of bureaucracy.

Of all the decisions she had made in her career, Yang Qingyue always felt most gratified by the one to enlist Ling Qingyu as her ally. What once seemed like a devil's bargain—a desperate sip of poison to fight a greater toxin—had instead transformed into the most effective partnership she could have hoped for.

Sometimes, in the stillness between crises, she found herself wondering: What would her world look like if she hadn't taken that risk? If she had chosen safety over strategy, convention over conviction?

Tonight's events only reinforced that belief. The audacity of the criminals—their blatant attempt to shake the fragile stability of the reformed order—was nothing short of appalling. Their challenge had to be answered, not just with force, but with resolve.

And Spirit Fox had delivered everything, with might and speed.

As she sat in her office, shoulders tense and thoughts circling tonight's chaos, Yang Qingyue found her mind drifting—tasting and lingering on the memory of her lover's intimate gifts. A hint of longing rose in her chest. She missed Ling Qingyu more than she wanted to admit.

Hopefully, that infuriating woman wasn't off somewhere charming foreign women with that wicked smile, enjoying her rare overseas trip while Yang Qingyue was stuck here, cleaning up after her subordinates' messes.

The memory of their last night together flared warm and vivid in her thoughts. It was enough to make her breath hitch. She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat, coughing unnaturally when she noticed the subconscious rub of her thighs beneath the desk.

A beat passed. She straightened her back and mentally slapped herself.

Focus, Yang Qingyue.

Alas, thanks to that bastard's subordinates, her stress level was manageable enough to fathom worldly desires.