For the next few weeks, it was as if the entire city had forgotten how to stay calm. Every morning, every night, a new piece of explosive news shook the internet, the arrest of high-ranking officials, raids on major corporations, the reopening of long-buried cases that were previously “untouchable,” and so much more.Social media overflowed with speculation, wild theories, and nonstop noise.To ordinary citizens, this was simply a period where the police had “suddenly become diligent.” They knew nothing. They never did.But to certain people with access, connections, or simply enough wit to see the patterns, none of this was coincidence.Because if they dug just a little deeper, examined the links between the cases, or traced the names that kept appearing almost all of them pointed to one person.Tyson De Leon.A name that should have sunk into obscurity after being branded a former convict, yet now appeared in records that weren’t meant to be spoken about.Not as a perpetrator, but

 Near dawn, Tyson woke with a discomfort he couldn’t quite name. His instincts were being tugged by a strange sensation, one he almost never experienced. When his hand reached toward the space beside him, his fingers brushed only the cold bedsheet, not the warm body he had held just hours before.He opened his eyes fully. The space was empty.His brows drew together slightly as he pushed himself upright. His gaze swept the room in the dim light, no sign of Anna in the bathroom. The bedroom door was ajar, as if pushed open in a hurry.“…Anna?” he called, voice barely above a whisper.No answer.Tyson stepped out of the bedroom, checking every corner of the apartment from the living room, t

Tyson had just returned from headquarters after reporting to Commissioner General Rodriguez. The trip home felt longer than usual, his mind crowded with too many things at once.The moment the apartment door opened, a warm aroma washed over him. Not the scent of a single dish, but many. As if someone had been busy in the kitchen for hours without stopping.He lifted his head.Anna stood there in the middle of the kitchen, wearing an apron that was a size too big. Her hair was tied up messily, a few strands falling to frame a face that still showed traces of the long night she’d had. Her eyes were slightly swollen, but there was a faint spark in them again, one that made her look alive.Tyson stopped, staring at the table overflowing with dishes. “You cooked all of this?”Anna tucked a loose strand behind her ear, her cheeks turning a little pink.“I was bored,” she said simply, with a small smile that was clearly forced but still sweet. “So I cooked a lot. Besides… doing something hel

Prison No. 73 hadn’t changed much since the last time Tyson set foot there. The walls were tall and cold, and the metallic clang of the automatic doors opening was just as unpleasant as he remembered.Tyson walked past two rows of guards, heading straight to the special meeting room.The iron door opened, and inside sat a massive man whose body looked like it could topple anyone with just one shoulder, Gio Frederick.Also known as Big Boss.Gio looked at Tyson from across the table. His smile was crooked, mocking, like someone welcoming a guest he hadn’t invited but didn’t mind observing.“Tyson De Leon…” his deep voice rumbled. “Back then you came here as the ‘family sacrifice,’ and now you come as an ‘important man’ with access to the Commissioner himself.”He let out a short, rough laugh. “The world is amusing.”Tyson didn’t return the smile. He simply pulled out a chair and sat calmly.“It’s been too long since you visited,” Gio continued, half-teasing. “I thought you’d forgotten

Tyson didn’t head home right after reading Anna’s message. The moment he learned she was going to the supermarket near her apartment, he turned his car around without a second thought.He intended to pick her up. Nothing more.But as he approached the supermarket area, something immediately felt wrong.A small crowd had gathered near the entrance. People were whispering among themselves, some glancing toward the road.Tyson slowed down. His sharp eyes swept over the area, and right then a black car sped away from the curb.And in the back of his mind, a familiar mechanical voice rang quickly and clearly, as if giving an undeniable report:[Warning: Anna Mendes has been forced into that vehicle. Destination presumed to be the Mendes residence.]Tyson’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. His jaw clenched hard.“Annoying…” he muttered, low and almost like a growl.Without hesitation, he stepped on the gas. His car shot forward, tailing the black vehicle.Inside the black car, Anna str