Chapter 4

On Conway Street, an Audi police car moved slowly through the area, and the radio played the football national derby. The commentator's voice was filled with excitement, "Bestado is making an amazing run, he's passed the goalkeeper! He shoots... Oh my god, it hits the goalpost! How did that not go in?"

"Bang! Beep beep!"

Suddenly, the police car blared its horn, causing an annoying disturbance on the street. Passersby shot uncomfortable glances at the car, ready to react if it weren't for the word "police" printed on its side. They were wary of the police, after all.

"Hey, Seth, quiet down," Smith, seated in the passenger seat, removed his wide-brimmed hat and scolded the black man driving with a frown.

"I just lost my 10 zlotys, damn it!" Seth, a third-level police officer, cursed, crumpling up his lottery ticket in frustration. He rolled down the window, tossed it out, and clenched his fist in anger. "That **** Bestado, if I ever meet him, I'll break his leg. I could score with my butt!"

Smith glanced at Seth, who had spent at least 600 zlotys of his 1,200 zloty monthly salary on lottery tickets. It was evident that such habits were making a lot of people richer at Seth's expense.

After Seth was done venting his frustration, he pressed the clutch and shifted gears to start the car. But just as he was about to drive off, a figure suddenly rushed out from a side alley and collided with the car's right hood. Both Seth and Smith were startled and looked at each other in confusion. They unfastened their seatbelts, got out of the car, and before Seth could say a word, the man grabbed Seth's leg, crying and sniffling, and pointed back at the alley, trembling, "Murder... they killed him!"

Smith and Seth were both shocked by this unexpected turn of events. They drew their CZ75 pistols and headed into the alley, determined to investigate.

Inside the alley, they found Bosman lying on the ground.

"Call for an ambulance," Smith said as he examined the situation, and Seth quickly reached for his pager to request support from headquarters.

Smith furrowed his brow, straightened up, and suddenly looked around. He spotted a figure darting past and rushed to chase after it. However, his pursuit proved futile, as there was nothing but discarded trash on the ground.

"Wait, have I seen him before?"

...

Click, click.

The door lock clicked twice, and the door was pushed open from the outside. Tang Dao tossed his coat onto the bed, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag, his eyes filled with tension.

He didn't know if Bosman was dead or alive, and causing serious harm in Poland was a criminal offense that could lead to a lengthy prison sentence. Most importantly, he wasn't sure if Smith had spotted him during that brief encounter earlier.

Tang Dao couldn't afford to go to jail, and he couldn't let that happen.

But where could he go? He furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

It's the year 1991...

At this point, the Soviet Union was in a state of terminal decline, and it wouldn't be long before the empire collapsed and descended into chaos.

Tang Dao wasn't concerned about the politics; what interested him was the opportunity to profit from the turmoil. He recalled reading an article in the "Times" in his previous life, which detailed the massive loss of hundreds of thousands of firearms in the Soviet Union during the chaos. These included advanced weapons and ammunition, and they had enriched a group of international arms dealers.

[Level 1 main task: Squeeze the wool! Obtain a source of goods from the Soviets, sell them, and receive rewards. Design blueprints for firearms and weapons, five special operations employees (teams), and one random reward draw. Failure results in death! ]

[Sub-quests: Find a base. As an arms dealer, you need a solid operational base. Rewards and randomness. ]

[Sub-quests: Build a reputation. A good reputation is essential for any successful businessman. Rewards and entry to an arms bidding event (in a random country). ]

...

This mission suddenly focused Tang Dao's wandering thoughts. He sighed softly. It appeared that he was truly going to leave this place. He knelt down, brushed away some ash, and stubbed out his cigarette in a makeshift ashtray made from a plastic bottle. His index finger still bore traces of ash.

The most pressing issue at hand was his lack of funds. He only had $600 in his possession, and it wasn't enough for a train ticket to escape.

"Do you guys know any way to quickly get some cash?" Tang Dao turned to Osborne and Robert, who were with him.

"Getting cash?" Osborne, who had been leaning against the wall, suddenly perked up upon hearing that phrase. He stood upright, lowered his voice, and said, "Robbing a bank is low risk and offers quick money. I saw a bank branch down the road when I came back. Boss, what do you say we do it?"

"Stop."

Tang Dao quickly raised his hand to halt Osborne's suggestion, his expression darkening. "Do you think we can outsmart PSK (Polish Police)? Or do you think bullets follow a set path? I'm afraid that tomorrow, we'd be all over the news, Mr. Osborne."

The last two words were almost spoken through clenched teeth, clearly expressing Tang Dao's strong dissatisfaction with Osborne's foolish suggestion.

Tang Dao understood the delicate situation in Warsaw, especially the presence of the First Assault Regiment (PSK), an elite unit under the Polish Special Command. He had no intention of provoking them before he had the strength to do so. It was essential to know one's limits in such a situation.

Osborne, however, had a rebellious streak. Upon hearing Tang Dao's response, he curled his lips disdainfully, crossed his arms, and turned away, showing his frustration.

"Boss, if the amount of money isn't too large, you can consider selling the house," Robert suggested casually. He shrugged and held up a newspaper in his right hand, which he had seemingly conjured out of thin air. He rolled it up halfway and pointed to a phone number in the classifieds section. "There's a real estate agent's number here."

Sell the house? Tang Dao hesitated momentarily. After all, this house held the memories of three generations of the Tang family. However, practicality won out, and he took a deep breath, picked up the newspaper, and circled the number with a black pen. Then, he grabbed the phone on the bedside table and dialed the number.

"Hello, this is Glenn's real estate agency. How may I assist you?" A polite but monotonous male voice answered.

Tang Dao briefly glanced at Robert and the others, then opened the balcony's sliding doors and stepped out to talk on the balcony.

"How much can I get for selling this old house?" Tang Dao inquired, his voice tense.

Smith, who had just engaged with Seth and witnessed the incident in the alley, was the officer assigned to investigate the scene. When he reached the second floor, he hesitated, raised his hand to knock on Tang Dao's door, then put it down again, adjusted his police uniform, rubbed his face, and relaxed his facial muscles. He cleared his mind of the recent unpleasant encounter and knocked on the door.

...

Inside the apartment, Tang Dao's last two words expressed his strong dissatisfaction with Osborne's ridiculous suggestion. He knew that picking a fight with the Warsaw police was a terrible idea.

Osborne, irritated by Tang Dao's response, was about to retort when Smith, a policeman, appeared. The two of them stopped, and Smith asked if they lived in the building.

Osborne, ever the provocateur, couldn't resist taunting Smith. "Do Warsaw police now restrict personal freedom? Conway Street isn't safe, but is the police station safer? Just ask Bonnie Carvel."

Smith's face turned green at the mention of Bonnie Carvel. She had been a construction site worker who was later found dead under suspicious circumstances. The incident had caused a scandal, with allegations of police misconduct. Smith had been one of the witnesses to the case, and it had been a stain on his career. He felt the urge to confront Osborne, but his current situation prevented him from doing so.

Osborne, with a smug smile, raised his hand in a fake gesture of farewell and led Robert away, leaving Smith with his anger and frustration.

Smith took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. He continued to the second floor, knocked on Tang Dao's door, and waited, suppressing his irritation.