The other party just nodded slightly. “You’re here, have a seat.”

The captain had grown old. Seeing the streaks of gray in his hair, David Carter couldn’t help but think this, but he didn’t say anything more. He sat down silently on a chair.

The other few people all nodded slightly to David Carter in greeting, but no one said a single extra word. David Carter’s eyes swept over their faces one by one: John Smith, Eric Clark, William Brooks—three faces that were somewhat familiar yet also somewhat strange, making David Carter feel a bit uncomfortable. He averted his gaze slightly and looked at the captain sitting at the head of the table. The captain’s name was William Smith, much older than the rest of them, a strict and domineering middle-aged man, but a good captain. He should be a colonel by now, right?

“Wait, someone’s not here yet.” Maybe he noticed David Carter’s confusion and offered an explanation.

The private room returned to its heavy silence, broken only occasionally by the sound of someone drinking water, and the smoky, choking smell in the air was proof that there were still a few living souls here.

David Carter didn’t smoke. Anyone who’s been to the battlefield knows that cigarettes are a good way to relieve stress—there are few soldiers who aren’t smokers. But David Carter never touched the stuff, because he was an infiltrator, and sometimes the smell of smoke could expose you to the enemy. So while the others puffed away, he was counting the hours on the big clock hanging in the room, and keeping track of how many times that rather attractive waitress had come in. Especially since every time she came in, her face looked as if she’d seen a ghost, which made him feel that people like them really were too different and out of place compared to everyone else.

The door opened. The first to come in was Tiger, who found a chair and sat down, making the chair groan in protest.

Right after him came a man in his thirties, full of energy. Compared to the rest of them, this guy seemed much more alive. But when David Carter saw him, he frowned almost imperceptibly. He knew this guy, and he didn’t like him.

But the others all stood up, even the usually stern captain showed a slight smile and nodded to the newcomer. David Carter sighed inwardly, cursed under his breath, and stood up as well.

“Brothers, you’re all here. Sorry I’m late and kept you waiting. Hey, Old Smith, why’d you pick such a dump? Took me forever to find it. Well, since you’re all on my turf now, I’ll take care of things. Let’s go, Imperial City Grand Hotel! We haven’t seen each other in years, we’ve got to have a good time…”

That authentic Beijing accent, and the unique teasing, irreverent tone of a Beijinger—sure enough, he was still the same as ever, hadn’t changed a bit.

David Carter’s dislike for this guy, Brian Foster, wasn’t just because of that. He was a typical privileged kid—his grandfather was a founding hero of the country, an old revolutionary, and his father was one of those who got rich early during the reform era. But this guy had bad luck. His grandfather, wanting to make up for his father’s regret at not being able to join the army, forced him—despite the whole family’s objections—into the military, and not just any unit, but their secret special response team. According to this guy, his grandfather said, “If a man doesn’t go to the battlefield to toughen up, he’s just a coward.” Of course, his father was the biggest coward of all, and he didn’t want to be one, so he came here.

But, truth be told, even after joining the army, in David Carter’s eyes this spoiled rich kid never became a real man. He was never sent on dangerous missions, never had to do the hard or dirty work, and his training was half-hearted at best. It was like he’d come to the army to retire. Just looking at him was annoying.

But the guy had connections everywhere, not someone an ordinary guy with a criminal record like David Carter could afford to mess with. He also knew why the others treated this guy so differently—because when they were transferred out of the army, it was Brian Foster who pulled strings so they could stay on in military positions. When David Carter was transferred, this guy also came to talk to him, saying that with his skills and experience, staying on as an instructor was a sure thing. But David Carter just couldn’t stand him, and besides, he’d had enough of army life, so he ended up in City C as a lowly traffic cop.

Chapter 0002: The Unexpected

“Brian, we’re not here to have fun this time. How’s that thing I asked you to look into?”

“Old Smith, let me tell you, what are you bringing these killing gods here for? I’m warning you, this is S City, not the army, and definitely not a battlefield. If you go too far, I can’t cover for you. The will of the people is like iron, and the law is like a furnace, you get me?” Same tone as always, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to hide.

“This has nothing to do with you. After this, it won’t have anything to do with you either. I just want to know how Old Harris died. Once you tell us, you leave immediately. Today, we never saw you, and you never saw us.” The veins on William Smith’s forehead bulged as he half-stood, looking like a lion ready to pounce. His deep voice sounded in everyone’s ears like a beast’s roar.