Into the Lion's Den

Brendon's body was still heavy with exhaustion, but his mind refused to let him sleep. Everything was happening too fast—Jacob's death, the missing evidence, and now a secret meeting with Drago.

Just as he was starting to drift off, his phone buzzed violently on the nightstand. With a groggy groan, he cracked open an eye and glanced at the clock. 6:30 PM.

Sofie's name flashed on the screen.

Brendon exhaled sharply before answering.

"Hey, Sheriff! Did I disturb you?"

He rubbed his face, sitting up. "Nah, not really. You just ruined my sleep, that's all."

"Ah! Being sarcastic, huh? Okay, let that be. I called you for a serious reason." Sofie's voice grew sharper. "Bronson just called Chief Tyson. He and Judith were on patrol when a teenager stumbled out of an alley, clutching his stomach, bleeding badly."

Brendon's fingers clenched around his phone. "Who was it?"

Sofie hesitated. "Lewis Skelly. One of those BM19 kids. Someone attacked him brutally. He's in the hospital now."

Brendon was already on his feet, pulling on his jacket.

"I'll go see him." He paused. "There's something else I need to discuss with you—about the hyperlink you sent me."

"Yeah? What about it?"

"How about I come to you and tell you in person?"

"Works for me."

Brendon grabbed his keys and stormed out the door.

---

At the Police Station – Tech Department

The tech department was dimly lit, the glow of multiple screens illuminating Sofie's focused expression. She sat at her desk, fingers moving rapidly across her keyboard. Security camera feeds flickered on the screens, showing different parts of town.

Brendon walked in, noting her intense gaze.

"Before you ask why Lewis got attacked, even though I was watching them," Sofie said, not even turning to face him, "it's because our town lacks security cameras. There are too many blind spots."

Brendon leaned against the desk. "Well, I wasn't going to ask, but thanks for the explanation."

Sofie shot him a smirk. "So? What's the big deal about the hyperlink?"

Brendon pulled out his phone and opened the cloned copy of Jacob's device. "There's a chat between Jacob Williams and Bradley Norman. When I try to read it, the text gets scrambled—like someone corrupted it."

Sofie's expression shifted, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "That's definitely a problem. Someone must have installed a virus to tamper with it. Maybe…" Her eyes widened. "Wait. That's it!"

She started digging into a different file—one Brendon recognized immediately. The laptop from Room 204 in Hudson's apartment complex.

Brendon folded his arms. "What did you figure out?"

Sofie's fingers flew across the keys. "That laptop was found alongside Jacob's now-empty phone, right? That means someone hacked into Jacob's phone, wiped everything, and planted a virus that corrupted some of his online data."

Brendon's jaw tightened. "And why would someone do that?"

Sofie's eyes met his. "Because that data could expose a murderer."

Brendon nodded. "Exactly."

Sofie leaned back, taking a deep breath. "I need to find out who owns this laptop. If we can trace it, we might find out who's behind all this."

Brendon patted her shoulder. "Great work, Sofie. Keep me updated. I gotta head out."

Sofie nodded. "Be careful, Wolf."

Brendon smirked. "Aren't I always?"

---

Midnight – The Abandoned Factory

The sky was an empty void, the moon hiding behind thick clouds. A sharp breeze cut through the night as Brendon parked his car a few blocks away from the old factory. The place had been abandoned for years, standing as a hollowed-out shell of rusting steel and shattered glass.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Robert. No answer.

A sense of unease crawled up his spine. Robert wouldn't just ignore his calls—not at a time like this.

Brendon tucked his phone away and moved cautiously toward the factory.

The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and old oil. Crates and broken machinery lay scattered across the floor. Dim light filtered through holes in the roof, casting eerie shadows against the walls.

He stepped further inside, ears alert.

A scuffing noise to his left.

A low chuckle from behind.

Then, before he could react—they were on him.

Several figures emerged from the darkness, surrounding him. Their silhouettes were broad, muscular, and armed.

One of them, a bald man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "Relax, detective. No need to get all aggressive."

Brendon's fists tightened. "Where's Drago?"

The scarred man grinned. "Oh, he's been expecting you."

Brendon's heartbeat remained steady. He had walked into the lion's den, and now he had to play this carefully.

Brendon walked behind the men, his senses sharp. They led him through a series of dark, crumbling corridors before stopping at a rusted metal door. One of them rapped on it twice, and with a groan of old hinges, the door creaked open.

The air changed instantly.

The underground facility was unlike anything Brendon had expected. A massive, dimly lit chamber sprawled before him, built from reinforced concrete and metal reinforcements. Rusted pipes ran along the ceiling, dripping water onto the stained floor. The scent of oil, sweat, and something metallic—blood, maybe—hung thick in the air.

Industrial lights flickered above, casting eerie shadows on the figures moving through the space. At least two dozen anthropomorphic creatures filled the room, their eyes flashing as they noticed Brendon's presence. Some sat around battered tables, playing cards or counting stacks of cash. Others leaned against the walls, armed with blades, bats, or firearms.

Brendon took it all in without breaking stride.

Then his eyes landed on him.