2025-11-05 00:36:55
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TARGETS CONFIRMED
The precinct gym was a world of sweat, echoing punches, and bad tempers. Officers trained under dim lights, their laughter was sharp and mean.In the center stood Sergeant Calderón, Argüello’s pet bulldog — a thick-armed man with scars and no mercy. He was forcing a rookie to do push-ups while shouting insults loud enough to shake the walls.Calderón’s voice thundered across the gym. “Fifty more! You call that a push-up, rookie? My grandmother could do better with one arm!”The rookie’s arms trembled, sweat dripping onto the mat. “Sir, I… I can’t—”Calderón kicked his boot lightly against the rookie’s ribs. “Can’t? You think the streets care about can’t? Down and up, boy!”The rookie gritted his teeth, his voice cracking. “It hurts, Sergeant.”“Good,” Calderón snarled. “Pain is the only honest thing you’ll ever learn in this job.”A junior officer nearby muttered, “He’s gonna pass out, sir.”Calderón turned sharply. “Then he’ll pass out stronger than he woke up. Now shut your mouth an
THE 5TH PRECINCT
The night after the market scandal felt like a storm that refused to rest.Ciudad de Sanvelis glowed under broken streetlights — the kind that flickered between light and shadow, like the city couldn’t decide if it wanted to stay clean or dirty.News vans still lingered outside cafés, broadcasting the aftershocks of Tobias’s revelation. “Fake Valdeza Volunteers Exposed.” The people had chosen their side. But Tobias knew this was only round one.It was already election week, and tension ran through Ciudad de Sanvelis like a live wire.Partial results from Montierra County were out — Doña Valdeza was leading by 12%, a fragile victory that could still vanish if they lost control of the streets.Voting continued across other counties, and every rally, every headline, every rumor now mattered.That’s why Tobias and his team were here — standing under the dripping awning of the 5th Precinct, where the permits for Valdeza’s next rally waited behind crooked smiles and dirty hands.Rain tapped
TRUTH IN THE SMOKE
She nodded and opened her bag. The drone came out like a tiny bird. Its eyes blinked green.“Ricardo,” Tobias said softly into his earpiece, “see them?”“Clear as daylight,” Ricardo replied from above. “Four total. One watching from the car shop behind you. They’re armed, but light.”“Don’t hit them,” Tobias said. “Just stay sharp.”Cielo released the drone. It rose quietly, hiding behind the tarps and smoke. The small camera turned, recording everything — the fake volunteers shouting, the old woman crying, the men collecting money in sacks.Tobias walked forward slowly. His coat brushed against the side of a vegetable stand. He stopped in front of the three men and spoke in a calm, deep tone.“Morning, gentlemen,” he said. “Who sent you?”The leader smiled, pretending to be confident. “We already said, sir — we’re working for Doña Valdeza’s campaign.”Tobias tilted his head slightly. “Oh? That’s interesting. Because Doña Valdeza doesn’t charge the poor for loyalty.”The man frowned.
THE MARKET OF BROKEN TRUST
Within ten minutes, they arrived at the Central Sanvelis market.Tobias clapped his hands once. “It’s time. Let’s move,” he said quietly. “We’ll find where Saavedra’s men are doing their dirty work.”The car door opened, and heat and noise rushed in like a storm. The smell of fish, sweat, and smoke filled the air. The narrow streets were alive with voices — traders calling customers, bus horns screaming, radios shouting the latest lies about Doña Valdeza.Posters of her face hung crooked on poles. Some had been scratched through, with words written in red ink: “THIEF.” “BLACK HAND.” “FAKE MOTHER OF THE POOR.”Tobias’s jaw tightened. “They’re really trying to break her,” he said under his breath.Cielo, small and fierce as ever, adjusted her hoodie and held the drone bag tight. “Then we’ll show them what truth looks like.”Nico nodded. “Let’s go hunt.”Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez stayed back, climbing the stairs of an old building for a better view. His rifle wasn’t with him — only bino
SMOKE OVER SANVELIS
The city woke up angry.Gray smoke rolled over Ciudad de Sanvelis like a dirty blanket.Election posters hung torn on the highways. Those posters contained smiling faces promising peace to people of Sanvelis. Even to the ones who still fought to buy bread.Tobias stood by his black car, smoking slowly. The red tip of his cigarette glowed in the cold.Cielo sat near him, fixing her small drone.Nico wrapped tape around his hands like he was ready for a fight.Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez sat high on a broken billboard, his scope pointed at the city below.“We’ll put Doña Valdeza in the Governor’s chair,” Tobias said. His voice was calm but sharp. “Not for love — for power. We need a voice in the state government.”Cielo looked up. “Politics is dirtier than the docks.”“Then we’ll learn to swim in dirt,” Tobias said.Nico asked, “And if we drown?”Tobias took a long drag. “Then we rebuild from what’s left.”No one laughed.A truck passed by and shook the bridge.Ricardo stayed quiet.Tobi
THE WATCHER JOINS
The rain had washed the night away, but the bridge still smelled of metallic bullets and regret.When dawn broke, a pale light crawled across the horizon like an exhausted soldier.Ricardo “Ghost Eye” Valdez followed Tobias without asking where they were going.Every step echoed on the wet road, every silence between them felt like a test he hadn’t yet passed.They stopped at an abandoned railyard at the edge of Sanvelis — rusted trains, shattered glass, and tracks that led nowhere.A cold wind blew through the broken windows, stirring dust like ghosts of steel.Tobias set a heavy case on a crate.“Two hundred meters,” he said quietly, pointing to a bent iron beam half-hidden by fog. “There’s a bird on that wall.”Ricardo frowned. “A bird?”Tobias’s lips barely curved. “Take it.”Ricardo hesitated, then knelt by the case and opened it.The rifle gleamed inside, black and smooth, smelling faintly of oil and rain.His fingers trembled when he touched it — as if the weapon recognized him
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