That morning, Peter sat in his worn-out chair, his fingers dancing across the laptop keyboard. The small table in front of him was cluttered with leftover food containers, empty cans, and a half-finished cup of coffee from the night before. He barely noticed the mess—his focus was on the screen.
Numbers flashed rapidly, code running in seamless precision. Then, with one final keystroke, his balance increased significantly.
Another successful job.
Peter had just siphoned money from a high-ranking official's secret account—dirty money, stolen from the people through corruption. Now, it was securely stored in his offshore accounts, split across multiple locations, hidden behind layers of encryption.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Goodbye, stolen fortune."
He knew the official would soon realize the money was gone and start scrambling for answers. But this wasn't Peter's first time, and it wouldn't be his last. He had perfected the art of covering his tracks—his transactions bouncing through hundreds of anonymous servers, forming an untraceable labyrinth.
Just as he was about to lean back and stretch, his laptop screen flickered. A new message appeared. Encrypted.
Peter's eyes narrowed. Not many people knew how to contact him. He carefully decrypted the message and read the contents.
"We need to talk. It's important. SIN is already making moves. I know you're reading this."
Sender: Zunafets.
Peter clicked his tongue. His brother.
He slammed the laptop shut, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated sigh. If SIN was making a move, something big was happening. And worse—they were still watching him.
His gaze shifted to the window of his rundown motel room, looking out at the restless city beyond. Sicnarep was heating up.
And he knew—this was just the beginning.
Peter sighed as he finally decided to meet his brother. Zunafets wouldn't stop bothering him if he kept ignoring his messages. They met in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city—a neutral location, far from the government's watchful eyes.
Zunafets stood tall, dressed in the signature black uniform of SIN, exuding authority. But his expression wasn't that of a general interrogating a fugitive—it was that of an older brother trying to convince his stubborn younger sibling.
"Peter, just hear me out."
Peter leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually. "If this is about me rejoining SIN, my answer is still the same: No."
Zunafets sighed. "It's not just that. A lot has changed. The corrupt leader you hated? He's been fired. I'm the one replacing him."
Peter paused for a moment, then chuckled. "Wow, so you're the new top dog now? Congrats, bro! Maybe now you can be even more corrupt than before."
Zunafets shot him a sharp look but didn't get angry. He was used to Peter's antics.
"I'm serious, Peter. SIN needs someone like you. You know the system is rotten, but you also know that without someone on the inside, we'll never be able to fix it. If I'm in charge, I can make real changes. But I need your help."
Peter stepped forward, patted his brother's shoulder, and smirked. "Listen, General. I'd rather live free, race cars, and steal from corrupt officials. That's way more fun than sitting in an office listening to boring meetings."
Zunafets shook his head, clearly frustrated but keeping his composure. "I know you won't accept this easily. But think about it, Peter—SIN isn't just about the government. There's something much bigger going on behind the scenes. You know that better than anyone."
Peter looked up, meeting his brother's gaze. There was something in Zunafets' tone that made him hesitate for a split second. Was this really just about SIN, or was there something even deeper at play?
But before he could ask, he decided to mess with his brother first.
Quickly, he snatched Zunafets' hat, placed it on his head, and struck a dramatic pose. "Attention, citizens of Sicnarep! I, the great General Zunafets, declare today a national holiday! No work, just fun!"
Zunafets pinched the bridge of his nose. "For god's sake, Peter…"
Peter burst out laughing. "You're still the same, bro. I thought becoming a big-shot leader would make you more serious."
Zunafets looked at his brother and let out a small smile. Annoying as ever, but still Peter—stubborn, mischievous, but always loyal to the people he cared about.
Yet behind their laughter, they both knew—this game was far from over.
Somewhere in a luxurious high-rise office, Minister Valdro slammed his fist against his desk, his face turning red with fury. His expensive cigar fell to the floor, forgotten as he glared at the terrified analyst standing before him.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY MONEY IS GONE?!" he roared.
The analyst, a thin man sweating under pressure, stammered, "S-Sir, our security team just confirmed it—your offshore accounts have been emptied. The transactions were routed through multiple servers across different countries. The hacker… covered their tracks perfectly."
Valdro's breathing grew heavy. This wasn't just some random cyber attack—someone had targeted him specifically.
Before he could compose himself, another aide rushed in, holding a tablet. "Sir, there's something worse. A new rumor just exploded online an hour ago… and it's already made its way to national news."
Valdro snatched the tablet and scanned the headlines. His heart sank.
"Minister Valdro Linked to Massive Bribery Scandal—Leaked Evidence Surfaces"
Below the headline were screenshots of confidential emails, transaction records, and surveillance footage showing him meeting with criminal figures.
His hands trembled. How? How did this get out?!
"Who leaked this?!" he demanded.
The aide gulped. "It—It appears to be the work of... Teerces."
Silence. A cold, heavy silence filled the room.
Valdro clenched his jaw. The hacker wasn't just after money. He was after destruction.
His rage boiled over as he grabbed his phone and dialed a private number. The call connected almost instantly.
"Find this bastard," Valdro growled. "I don't care what it takes. I want him erased."
On the other end, a deep voice chuckled. "Consider it done, Minister."
As the call ended, Valdro exhaled sharply. His career, his fortune, his power—everything was at stake.
And now, Teerces had just made himself the most wanted man in Sicnarep.
The roar of engines filled the air as Peter and Odlan, his childhood friend, watched the final race of the night. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the illegal racing circuit on the outskirts of Sicnarep. The air smelled of burning rubber and gasoline.
Odlan leaned against Peter's car, lighting a cigarette. "Listen, Peter," he said, exhaling smoke. "If you really want to shake up this country, there's another way."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what insane idea do you have this time?"
Odlan smirked. "The cartel. If you can infiltrate their ranks, you can manipulate them, drain their dirty money, and expose everything to the public. Imagine the chaos."
Peter chuckled. "You want me to scam the most dangerous criminals in the country? Sounds like suicide."
"Since when did you ever play it safe?" Odlan shot back.
Peter sighed, then nodded. "Fine. Let's pay them a visit."
That evening, they drove deep into the cartel's territory—a massive abandoned factory repurposed into a fortress. As they entered, hundreds of cartel members turned to face them.
Peter and Odlan stepped forward confidently, but the gangsters were already on edge. Men wielding bats, knives, and even axes surrounded them.
Odlan muttered under his breath, "Okay… maybe this wasn't the best idea."
One of the thugs shouted, "Who the hell are you? You think you can just walk in here?"
Peter smirked. "Relax, we just came to talk."
The gangsters weren't interested in talking. They moved in aggressively, ready to attack.
And then—it happened.
The crowd suddenly parted, as if the sea itself had split in two. A man in a sharp, black suit walked forward, his polished shoes echoing against the concrete floor.
Peter's smirk vanished. His breath hitched.
It was his father.
The legendary leader of the cartel.
His father's cold, calculating eyes locked onto him. "Peter." His deep voice echoed through the silent room. "What are you doing here?"
Peter clenched his fists. Damn it. This just got complicated.
Peter sat on a luxurious leather couch, its elegance sharply contrasting with the brutal nature of the cartel's hideout. The room felt more like a high-end executive office than a criminal headquarters.
Odlan remained speechless, his eyes wide with shock. He clearly never imagined that the most feared cartel leader in Sicnarep was Peter's father.
Peter, on the other hand, kept his cool—or at least tried to. He grabbed a whiskey bottle from the table and poured himself a drink.
"I should've known," Peter said as he took a sip. "An abandoned factory, armed guards, a secretive operation… Of course, this is your place."
His father sat across from him, calm and composed. "And I should've known that one day, you'd walk in here with trouble."
Peter smirked. "Don't get the wrong idea—I'm not here for a family reunion."
"Then why are you here?"
Peter set his glass down and leaned back. "I want in on your network."
Odlan immediately turned to Peter, nearly choking. "Are you insane?!" he whispered.
Meanwhile, Peter's father only raised an eyebrow. "And why should I let you?"
Peter met his father's gaze. "Because I can make you more money. I have connections, I have skills. I can do things your men can't even imagine."
The cartel leader studied him for a long moment before smirking slightly. "You talk like a businessman. But I know there's something else. What's your real plan, Peter?"
Peter didn't answer right away. He simply took another sip of whiskey and smiled.
The game had just begun.
Peter smirked as he looked at his father. "If I had known things would turn out like this, I should've joined you instead of becoming a SIN agent." His voice carried a mix of sarcasm and bitterness.
His father remained expressionless.
But then Peter waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, forget it. We're leaving."
Odlan blinked in confusion. "Wait, what? We just got here—"
Peter grabbed his jacket and stood up. "Let's go."
Odlan hesitated for a second before following him.
But just as they were about to reach the door, Peter suddenly stopped, turned around, and casually said, "Oh yeah, give me some money."
His father studied him for a moment before letting out a small smirk. Without a word, he opened his desk drawer, took out a thick wad of cash, and tossed it onto the table.
Peter grabbed it without hesitation, stuffing it into his jacket. "Thanks."
That's when his father spoke again. "You and your brother will be having dinner with your grandparents and your mother's family tonight."
Peter froze. His jaw clenched. He turned around, his expression darkening.
"I'm not going."
His father remained calm. "That wasn't a request. Your mother's side of the family wants to see you both."
Peter let out a bitter chuckle. His mother's family? The same people who never acknowledged him?
He clenched his fists, forcing himself not to throw something out of frustration. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out.
Odlan, still utterly confused, hurried after him.
That night, Peter knew one thing for sure—this family dinner was going to be a disaster.
As Peter and Odlan walked out of the cartel building, a few of his father's men started whispering among themselves.
One of the tattooed men, casually flipping a knife in his hand, squinted at Peter's back. "Wait… was that really the boss's son?"
Another man chuckled. "Seriously? That's our boss's kid? He doesn't really look like one of us."
A burly man with a scar on his face smirked. "Funny. I thought the boss's son would be… I don't know, tougher?"
They laughed quietly among themselves until a senior member, leaning against the wall, shot them a sharp look. "Don't underestimate him. You've heard of 'Teerces,' right?"
The laughter died instantly.
A man with glasses, likely one of the boss's trusted lieutenants, sighed. "Listen, that kid isn't a fighter like us, but he's far more dangerous in his own way. He's not someone you joke about."
One of the younger men raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How dangerous could he be?"
The man with glasses smirked. "He could drain your bank account before you even notice. And he could destroy your entire life with just a few keystrokes on his laptop."
Silence.
Meanwhile, outside the building, Peter let out a deep sigh, unfazed by whatever was being said behind him.
Odlan, still processing everything, finally spoke. "You sure you don't wanna just join the cartel? They seem pretty entertained by you."
Peter chuckled. "I have my own way of playing in the criminal world, Odlan. And trust me, I prefer staying behind the scenes."
But deep in his mind, Peter knew—this wouldn't be the last time he had to deal with his father's cartel. And someday, he might have to decide whether to fight them… or become one of them.
On the other side of the city, inside the Sicnarep Police Headquarters, tension filled the air. Officers gathered in the briefing room, discussing a case that had just gone viral across the nation.
A brutal murder.
Images of the victim were displayed on the projector screen—too gruesome to look at for too long. A mutilated body, a cryptic message written in blood on the wall, and a strange pattern found at the crime scene.
A young detective, his face filled with anger, clenched his fists. "This is no ordinary murder! This was an execution!"
A senior officer beside him nodded. "And the victim wasn't just anyone. He was a businessman with strong political connections. But what's even stranger—his financial records were completely wiped… like someone hacked them."
Silence fell over the room.
A man in a black suit, sitting at the far end of the table, finally spoke. His voice was calm and cold. "This case will not proceed."
Everyone turned to him in shock.
The young detective immediately stood up. "What do you mean, Captain? We haven't even fully investigated it!"
The captain met his gaze with sharp eyes. "Orders from above. No one is to touch this case any further."
The detective gritted his teeth. "So we're just going to let a murderer walk free? This case is already viral! The public is demanding answers!"
The captain sighed, then stood up, straightening his suit. "You're new here, so let me give you some advice. There are cases that are better left untouched. For everyone's safety."
With that, he walked out of the room, leaving behind frustrated and confused officers.
Outside the police station, a mysterious man sat inside a sleek black car, a small smirk playing on his lips as he scrolled through the latest news on his phone.
"It looks like someone is playing behind the scenes. And I intend to find out who."
The night in Sicnarep grew darker. And somewhere in the shadows, someone was pulling the strings of a conspiracy far greater than anyone had imagined.
The elegant dining hall of the estate was filled with warm lighting and the soft clinking of silverware against fine china. At the head of the table, Peter's grandfather glanced around before turning to Zunafets.
"Where is Peter?" he asked in a firm voice.
Zunafets exhaled quietly. "He'll be here."
As if on cue, Peter walked in, dressed in a black shirt with the top buttons undone, his cap turned backward in his usual careless style. He strolled over casually, taking a seat as if he had all the time in the world.
The conversation continued as they ate. At first, it was just the usual small talk—business updates, social events, politics. But then, the topic shifted.
Peter's half-brother, the esteemed judge, had just successfully resolved a high-profile case.
"Such a brilliant young man," one of the older relatives praised. "A real asset to this family."
More praise followed. "Smart, hardworking, dedicated… We're all proud of him."
Peter let out a small, irritated smirk. He stabbed his fork into his food, but before he could say anything, Zunafets shot him a warning glance—Don't start.
Peter took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay quiet.
Then came the part he had been dreading.
His grandmother set down her glass, looking straight at him. "And then we have Peter… The boy who threw away his position in SIN, refuses to work for his father's company, and now spends his days doing nothing. What a waste of talent."
A sharp silence filled the table.
Peter chuckled under his breath. "Wow. Thanks for the warm welcome, Grandma."
Zunafets tensed slightly, already knowing where this was going.
Peter leaned back in his chair, wearing a relaxed expression despite the tension growing at the dinner table. He raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly.
"Lazy, huh?" he said, spinning his dinner knife between his fingers. "Do you all really think I do nothing?"
His grandmother kept her sharp gaze on him. Other family members exchanged curious glances, sensing something coming.
Peter let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Actually, I'm already a director of a major company. One even bigger than this family's business."
Silence. Every pair of eyes in the room turned to him.
Peter glanced at his stepfather, whose expression remained neutral but visibly uneasy.
"Don't think I don't know the dark secrets hidden in your company."
His stepfather's face tensed slightly. Other relatives whispered among themselves, murmuring in confusion and intrigue.
Zunafets stayed silent, merely observing. He knew Peter was playing a dangerous game, and he was curious to see how far his younger brother would push it.
Slowly, Peter stood up, adjusting his shirt. "Well then. I think I've had enough for tonight."
Without waiting for a response, he strolled out of the dining room. The air remained thick with suspicion and murmured conversations.
As Peter passed by Zunafets, his brother sighed. "You just love causing trouble, don't you?"
Peter grinned. "Of course. Makes life more interesting, doesn't it?"
And with that, he walked away, leaving behind a table full of uneasy whispers and growing doubts.
Peter arrived at his motel, tossing his keys onto the table before collapsing onto the couch. He let out a deep breath, his mind still lingering on the tense dinner with his family.
"Damn it. I didn't even eat enough," he muttered, glancing at the half-empty instant food scattered on the table.
But hunger wasn't his priority right now. He reached for his laptop, pulling it onto his lap and flipping it open. The bright screen illuminated his face in the dimly lit room.
His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard as he opened several news portals. One headline immediately caught his eye.
"BRUTAL MURDER CASE CLOSED WITHOUT EXPLANATION"
Peter narrowed his eyes. He had already heard whispers about this case, but now he wanted to see how the media was covering it.
The article was full of vague statements. The police refused to comment. The victim's family remained silent. No further investigation.
"Shut down just like that? Something's definitely going on behind the scenes," he thought.
He accessed his private database, the one he used for deep-diving into hidden information. His fingers moved swiftly, bypassing security systems that even law enforcement couldn't break through. Within seconds, he found something interesting.
"Hah… So this is what they're hiding?"
A security camera recording popped up on his screen. It was footage that had never been made public. Peter played the video, his eyes widening at what he saw.
That person… wasn't supposed to be there.
His heartbeat quickened. This case was far bigger than just a simple murder. And if he dug any deeper, he might become the next target.
But a small smirk formed on his lips.
"Alright. Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes."
Peter stared intently at his laptop screen. The CCTV footage clearly showed a man in an expensive suit, his face caught at the crime scene.
Minister Valdro.
A smirk tugged at Peter's lips. "So, you're not just a corrupt official, but also a murderer?" he muttered.
The irony wasn't lost on him—just hours ago, he had drained Valdro's bank account, stealing his embezzled money. And now, he had undeniable proof that the man was involved in a brutal murder case that had been mysteriously shut down.
His fingers danced across the keyboard as he pulled up Valdro's financial records. As expected, just days before the case was closed, a suspicious transfer had been made to a high-ranking police officer's account.
"Paying the cops to make the case disappear? Clever… but not clever enough to escape me."
Peter accessed his dark web network, carefully preparing to leak this information to the public. But he knew he couldn't just drop the bomb all at once. If he exposed everything too quickly, they'd try to twist the narrative. He needed to strike in a way that would shake the entire nation.
Suddenly, a warning popped up on his screen.
Someone was trying to trace his location.
Peter chuckled. "Looks like they're getting nervous."
He shut his laptop and stood up. It was time to move before someone knocked on his door—or worse, kicked it down with a gun in hand.
Grabbing his jacket and slipping a pistol inside, he headed for the door.
"Minister Valdro, the game has just begun."