World of the Apocalypse: Kane’s Evolution System

Chapter 6 Promoted to Squad Lead

Kane felt not an ounce of remorse. Cold by nature, he scorned currying favor or picking sides to fit into cliques. He knew the unspoken rules of this workplace all too well: yield to unfair treatment once, and you will be manipulated and squeezed harder at every turn. Deference never earns respect—it only emboldens others to push their luck.

Though he cared little for what others thought of him, the stifling tension living side by side with hostile roommates wore on him. With the one-thousand-dollar bonus he’d earned from the Matsushita case, Kane resolved to move out of the dormitory and rent a place of his own. Unfamiliar with the local streets, he turned to Cruz—an easygoing, forthright man he clicked with—to help him hunt for housing. He only needed something affordable, powered with electricity, and livable. Cruz readily agreed without hesitation.

Early the next morning, Kane reported to work to go through shift handover procedures when he was summoned: Captain Wade wanted to see him in the cafeteria.

Wade had been waiting for a long time at a table by the cafeteria window. Slender and handsome, he carried an easy, approachable aura, lacking the arrogant condescension typical of senior officers. This was their first formal meeting. They exchanged polite greetings and sat down. Wade explained he’d been out on official business and missed Kane’s induction orientation.

When the Matsushita case came up, Wade admitted the bust was more than enough to warrant an extraordinary promotion for the officer who’d led the takedown. Superintendent Cole had originally planned to appoint Kane as a full squad lead and advance him to Class Two Constable. But since Kane had pulled off such a major arrest less than twenty-four hours after joining the force, a sudden jump in rank would spark rampant resentment and gossip across the precinct. The two administrators had discussed the matter and agreed to hold off on formal promotion to lay steady groundwork instead.

Kane accepted the decision calmly, stating he only wished to settle into his duties at a measured pace.

As they ate, Wade spoke openly and demonstrated sharp insight into department politics, fully easing Kane’s worries. He’d feared crossing Hawk would lead to petty retaliation from upper management, yet Wade remained humble and genuine the entire conversation, never leaning on his authority and showing remarkable breadth of vision. A flicker of warmth stirred in Kane’s chest; he raised his glass of water in place of alcohol and vowed to perform every duty to the fullest of his ability.

Once the pleasantries ended, Wade moved on to official business and announced Kane’s new posting: the lead of Squad Three had been suspended and investigated for dereliction of duty and embezzlement, leaving the position vacant. Kane would serve as acting squad lead, holding authority equivalent to a deputy squad leader, and be formally confirmed in the full role once his official rank paperwork was finalized.

Shortly afterward, Wade assigned him his core mission. Central Precinct had issued new wanted notices for several high-profile fugitives from the unregulated zones who had sneaked into Black Street, with Squad One tasked with stakeout and arrest operations. However, Wade had separate priority assignments lined up, so he put Kane—the new recruit—in charge of Squad Three to take over the thorny major drug-trafficking case currently underway.

Counterfeit smuggled pharmaceuticals and unlicensed medicinal supplies had flooded Black Street as of late. The rampant lawlessness and backlog of serious cases meant no one had dug deep into this racket before.

Yet two major pharmaceutical corporations jointly pressured the government, prompting orders trickling down from higher authorities. Squad One was ultimately handed a mandatory mandate: completely eradicate all drug peddlers on Black Street within a three-month deadline.

Wade issued a special warning: the Unified Government was cracking down ferociously on counterfeit pharmaceutical smuggling at present, and anyone caught with over five kilograms of contraband faced the death penalty. He stressed that Kane’s squad must resolve the case, yet all officers’ personal safety remained the top priority. The unit’s game plan was for Squad Three to first conduct groundwork to trace leads and identify key targets; once suspects were pinpointed, the full squad would mobilize for a coordinated raid, while the main force stayed focused on hunting the wanted fugitives.

Beyond operational matters, Wade volunteered to mediate the rift between Kane and Hawk. He admitted Hawk was hot-tempered and reckless, promising to facilitate a reconciliation between them later to fully put their past conflicts to rest.

After Wade paid the bill and left, Kane reflected privately that the captain possessed far greater magnanimity and a shrewd grasp of power balance than his easygoing demeanor suggested.

That afternoon, Cruz sent word that the rental arrangements were finalized, with the property located at No. 88 Tongbai Road in Black Street District. Kane headed over during his free time, yet Cruz was nowhere to be seen when he reached the courtyard gate.

A clear, soft female voice sounded from behind him. Kane turned to find Raven standing at the bottom of the steps in a tailored wool overcoat. Gone was the terrified frailty from their earlier ordeal; bathed in warm sunlight, her delicate features and graceful figure stood out as vivid as a figure from a painting.

At the gate of No. 88 Courtyard, Kane ran into Raven—the young woman he’d rescued from the kidnappers.

It turned out both had come to view the rental property, and they fell into easy conversation thanks to the coincidence. Outgoing and open-hearted, Raven stepped forward to express her gratitude. She explained she worked at the local broadcast network, whose offices sat right next to the precinct, and had already secured the rental unit here. She smiled and promised to treat him to a meal as thanks once she received her paycheck.

Kane had planned to ask for her contact information, but Raven’s colleague returned, and the two left in a hurry before he could work up the courage to speak.

When he walked back into the courtyard, Cruz, who had been waiting there, hurried over at once and pressed him about the woman he’d just spoken with. Upon learning she was the girl Kane had rescued and that she was renting a place here too, Cruz immediately grew intrigued. He quickly suggested splitting the apartment with Kane, claiming he was a decent cook and could help cut living expenses—though his real motive was to live close to Raven.

They toured the unit together afterward. The thirty-square-meter studio came fully furnished, spotlessly clean, and boasted an unbeatable location: right next to various government offices, the police precinct, and the broadcast network station, making daily commutes extremely convenient. Its only downside was the steep rent: three hundred US dollars per month, with six months’ rent due upfront in a single lump sum.

Three hundred dollars was nearly half of Kane’s monthly salary. Paltry pay paired with sky-high living costs was standard for low-ranking officers in this district, and it was the main reason many cops secretly sought under-the-table illicit income.

Cruz spoke openly about this reality without the slightest hesitation, admitting most precinct staff refused to live solely off their official wages. He personally controlled pimps within his patrol zone to line his own pockets. After weighing all the pros and cons, Kane agreed to sign the lease following Cruz’s persistent persuasion—this neighborhood was far superior to any other housing he could find anytime soon—and he paid the six-month rent deposit to secure the studio officially.

He reported back to the precinct for afternoon duty, where all members of Squad Three lined up in their work station area.

Captain Wade read out the official posting notice in front of everyone: thanks to his outstanding record of taking down the violent fugitive Matsushita and resolving the abduction case, rookie Kane had received an extraordinary promotion to Lead of Squad Three under Unit One. His Personal Class Three Merit Citation had also been submitted for review, with formal rank adjustments to follow in due course.

A murmur rippled through the room before applause broke out. Holt stood nearby with tangled emotions, his heart heavy with bitterness and resentment. Barely two days prior, he had personally brought this new recruit into the force, yet now the kid had suddenly become his direct superior; a crushing sense of disparity washed over him.

Wade laid down rules before everyone, issuing a strict order that no one was to bully the new recruit or slack off on duty. He then gestured for Kane to introduce himself and integrate into the team.

Kane snapped a neat salute with a modest demeanor. He pulled out his private stash of cigarettes to win the others over, keeping a humble profile as he admitted he was still inexperienced and would rely on all the senior officers’ guidance during future operations—his aim was to quickly solidify good rapport within the squad.

Dask, a veteran officer of Squad Three with four to five years on the force, had been the natural top candidate for the squad lead position. However, his blunt, inflexible personality had kept him from promotion year after year. He was the first to take a cigarette, speaking in a tone that mixed casual familiarity with veiled suspicion, teasing Kane for having powerful backers.

Mid-conversation, Dask clapped Kane heavily on the arm in an attempt to appear close. The sharp impact made Kane wince and stifle a quiet groan; that exact spot bore the unhealed graze from a stray bullet during the shootout with the outlaws days earlier.

Holt cut in quickly to warn Dask about Kane’s gunshot wound, yet Dask brushed the matter off carelessly. He tossed out a few perfunctory remarks, dismissing the injury as trivial and joking that medical fees were exorbitant these days, so there was no need to make a fuss over nothing.

Kane suppressed the flicker of unease inside him without showing it, quietly inviting everyone to take a seat. Through brief small talk, he mapped out Squad Three’s roster: a ten-man unit made up of six American officers, three Thai officers, and one African-American officer.

After a short period of settling into each other’s company, everyone split off to their respective tasks, sorting through leads linked to the pharmaceutical trafficking ring.

By dusk, Kane finished inspecting the police cruisers and returned to the office, only to find all other squad members gone. Holt and the African-American officer remained behind to organize case files.

When he asked what had happened, he learned there were still hours left until shift end, yet Dask had taken the entire team off to handle personal errands on his own initiative. He had neither notified Kane, their newly appointed squad lead, nor requested permission from any superior.