The Mafia Empire

Pronto had stationed him here with instructions to report any large scale movemts of Wood's m directly to the police station. If anything like that happed, the officer was to notify Pronto immediately.

The young officer showed no sign of fear or tsion despite the looming threat of a gang war. Instead, his face was filled with the excitemt and anticipation typical of youth. He, too, was a young man with the same restless ergy, eager to prove himself and make a mark on the world.

In many ways, he wasn't so differt from the gang members wandering the streets, except perhaps for his fortunate upbringing, which had giv him a respectable job right after school.

Being a police officer was certainly a respectable job, but it wasn't necessarily one that satisfied the ambitions of a young man. It was a job suited for older m nearing retiremt, not for someone still full of curiosity and dreams for the future.

Three cars—no, four—quickly pulled out of Maixiang Gard, packed with people. The young officer clched his fists tightly as he watched them drive away. He immediately grabbed his unlocked bicycle, ready to follow. His older partner, however, grabbed his arm before he could leave. The younger officer tried to shake him off but couldn't.

The older officer shook his head, advising, "List to me. Don't go after them. As a police officer, you're in more danger than anyone else."

The young officer retorted, "Exactly because I'm a police officer, I have to follow them. You go back to the station and tell the chief that Wood is probably out for revge. I'll follow them." With that, he pried the older officer's hand off and pedaled away on his bike.

The older officer called out after him a few times, but the young man didn't look back. All that was left was the sight of his retreating figure and his name echoing in the air.

The older officer shook his head and mounted his own bike, pedaling hard toward the station, hoping to get back to the safety of the station as quickly as possible.

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The news soon made its way back to the Ternell City Police Station, and Pronto was informed. Faced with Wood's impding act of vgeance, Pronto had few options. He could either take all his m and try to stop the revge attack—which might force Wood to back down, but only temporarily. Wood would still march toward Que Street tomorrow, determined to find Julian.

And there was another risk: if Julian managed to escape due to Pronto's interferce, Wood might hold him responsible.

Pronto never believed that his position as police chief made him untouchable. Ev the imperial prime minister had be assassinated twice, so what made him, a mere local police chief, think he could avoid all threats?

Ignoring the situation tirely would also bring trouble.

Gang wars were always a ssitive topic, especially for politicians who wanted their territories to seem peaceful and prosperous. If something happed that shattered that illusion, the always smiling politicians wouldn't be smiling anymore. As the primary person responsible for Ternell's security, Pronto would be the first to face questioning, and he might ev be dismissed and investigated.

On one side was the possibility of angering a powerful figure, which could lead to threats. On the other was the risk of losing his position and the chair beath him. After only a brief momt of thought, Pronto made his decision.

He would interve—not to stop the conflict, but at least to manage it. That way, if anyone asked later, he wouldn't bear too much responsibility. He could argue that he had done his best, but giv the outdated equipmt and the elderly officers in the Ternell police force, he simply couldn't do more.

It wouldn't be his fault!

With that in mind, he immediately had his secretary inform all officers to gear up and prepare to move out. As he did so, a troubling thought crossed his mind. Two officers from the night patrol had mysteriously disappeared rectly, and their families had be causing a commotion at the station for days before he managed to calm them down.

Whether those two had be killed or run off after doing something shady, they had left him with a mess to deal with.

Wh all the available officers were ready to move, a police sergeant in his thirties asked, "Chief, are we going on foot or driving?"

Pronto's eyes wided. "Of course we're walking!"

The older officers, who had be a bit tse, immediately relaxed upon hearing this. Walking?

No problem!

It would take about fifte minutes to walk from th Street to Que Street at a fast pace, and no more than half an hour at a slower pace. By the time they arrived, Wood's m would likely already be at Que Street. By the time they got there, the fight would probably be over, and the bodies cold. They could simply show up, clean up the mess, and that would be that.

Just as they thought, four cars packed with people stopped in front of one of Julian's properties. Wood looked at the lifeless building and felt his eyelid twitch.

"Are you sure they're inside?" he asked, glancing at Robin, who had just stepped out of the driver's seat. "Because I don't think anyone's in there."

Robin looked at the corner building with its large glass windows, which showed off the newly furnished interior of the first floor. But there wasn't a person in sight. The curtains were drawn on the second and third floors, hiding whatever was inside. Robin hesitated and glanced a.

At that momt, a figure in a high-collared trch coat and bowler hat, wrapped tightly in layers, emerged from a nearby alley.

"Are they still inside?" Robin asked.

The figure nodded, taking one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the g and grinding it out with his foot. "I saw Julian go in with my own eyes. They hav't come out. They're definitely still in there."