CHAPTER FOUR

The truth was undeniable—whether the prime minister was present or not, his residence would remain heavily guarded.

"Even in movies, operations like this require a lot of people," Lucas muttered.

"True, but the most important thing is having the right connections," John replied.

There were numerous ways the operation could unfold, and the detective was busy brainstorming the best approach.

Lucas was lost in his notebook when he noticed John on his phone. He seemed to be messaging someone, and judging by his expression, the message was important.

"What do you think of this?" Lucas asked, showing John his plan.

"Don't worry about it. There's already a plan in motion. I'll brief you a week before the operation," John said, dismissing him.

Lucas had suspected something was off, but now he was certain. Ever since they met, he had been hesitant, wondering if he was just being overly cautious. But now, he knew what he had to do next.

He stepped outside, claiming he needed some fresh air. In truth, he knew something was wrong, and he had to investigate on his own.

As he wandered the city, he searched for anyone who might have useful information. Walking up a winding road, he unconsciously absorbed his surroundings. The skyscrapers were sleek and modern, seamlessly blending into the landscape. What stood out most was the beach merging effortlessly with the city—it almost felt criminal to enjoy such fresh air in a place like this. The cool sea breeze was a welcome relief from the otherwise harsh Australian climate.

Then, he noticed a woman watching him.

She stood out—not just because she was slightly shorter than him, but because of her striking appearance. Her blonde hair was streaked with black highlights, and she wore a tight-fitting red dress as if she were heading to a midday nightclub.

"So, you're a casual guy? I always pictured you as the office type," she said, throwing him off guard.

Before he could respond, she pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of someone who looked eerily similar to him—though the image had an artificial, AI-generated quality.

"Sabrina! You look even better in person," he said carefully. He had only learned her name from the corner of her phone screen.

Without hesitation, she grabbed his hand and led him in a direction he didn't recognize—not that any direction was familiar to him.

"How could anyone see a picture like that and still believe it's real?" he thought. He was about to correct her mistake when he realized an opportunity had just presented itself.

They walked some distance before entering a restaurant. The place was extravagant, its golden decor giving it a regal air.

"How am I going to get out of this?" Lucas wondered, knowing full well he didn't have a penny to his name.

"Well, my goal comes first," he reminded himself.

They took a seat, and he observed Sabrina carefully. She didn't order right away, instead opting for small talk.

"So, what will you be having?" she finally asked.

"Anything you are," he responded reflexively.

When the food arrived, he seized his chance. He started with simple questions, gradually shifting toward more pressing matters.

"What do you think of…" He had almost said 'your prime minister' but caught himself. "…the prime minister?"

"Most people don't like him, myself included," she replied. "He made a lot of changes that negatively affected even his own government. People say he somehow forced his way into power—not that I really understand how the system works."

"Why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to hear your perspective," he answered quickly.

"What kind of books do you read?" she asked suddenly.

"I prefer mystery with a mix of romance," she added before he could answer.

"The books I read don't have physical copies."

"So, e-books?"

"Something like that," he said with a slight stutter, reluctant to admit he was referring to light novels.

She smirked but didn't press further.

"Regarding your earlier question…" she said after a pause. "There have been other countries with eerily similar stories—leaders forcing their way into power. Honestly, our situation isn't unique."

Lucas started piecing things together.

"How did I not notice this before?" he wondered.

Then again, such stories might have seemed ordinary. Corruption wasn't anything new.

They continued their conversation, keeping it light, though Lucas took every opportunity to ask meaningful questions.

His attention snapped back to reality when the waiter arrived with the bill.

Reaching into his pocket, he prayed he would find something—anything—in John's borrowed trousers. But to his surprise, Sabrina pulled out a card and paid for them both.

"I hope we can meet again soon," she said, standing up to leave.

He walked her to the door and bid her farewell. As she walked away, he replayed their conversation in his mind.

Then, just as he was deep in thought, she turned back and called out to him.

"It's the 31st," she said with a sly grin before hailing a cab and disappearing into the night.

"That was so random."

Lucas retraced his steps to John's place—though "trial and error" was a more accurate description. It took him an hour to get back. He walked up to a familiar-looking house…until he realized his mistake.

His stomach dropped. He had the wrong house.

After another 30 minutes of wandering through dimly lit streets, he noticed a child crying. He approached and saw she was not just distraught but bruised—covered in scratches, looking no older than seven.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, knowing full well it was a foolish question.

"He told me to close my eyes and count to ten," she murmured. "I told him no, and he said I shouldn't be scared. He told me he was my friend and that he wouldn't hurt me. I called him a liar."

Lucas felt a pang of guilt at his own lack of sympathy.

"Do you know who he is?" he asked.

She ignored his question, continuing.

"I told my parents about him, but they said I shouldn't worry. I told them to be careful, but they said he was harmless." Her voice trembled. "W-why didn't they listen to me?" She broke into sobs.

Lucas knew he needed more information to piece things together.

"I want to help, but I need to know more. What kind of relationship did your family have with this person?" He paused. "Never mind that—just take me to your parents. Where do you live?"

"I c-can't d-do that," she stammered, her sobs taking over.

"Why not?" he asked, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Because t-they were killed," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Lucas froze.

"By whom?" he asked, his tone shifting.

She wiped her tears and whispered,

"By the monster under my bed."

Elsewhere, a conversation took place over the phone.

"What did you observe?" a commanding male voice asked.

"He was so straightforward. Didn't even check me out—only asked boring questions," a female voice responded.

"Answer the question properly while my patience still holds," the man snapped.

"He was ordinary. Only slightly suspicious, but ordinary. And broke," she added. "I don't see what they see in him, honestly. He's just a—"

"Shut up!" the man barked. "You dare question their decision?"

"When you return, you shall face judgment."

The call ended abruptly.

The car pulled up to a massive estate, spanning nearly ten hectares.

At the center stood a five-story mansion, its architecture reminiscent of a bygone era. At the top, gargoyles loomed menacingly, their stone eyes watching over the estate.

The compound was meticulously designed—cobblestone paths, manicured lawns, golden fountains.

A greenhouse stood 500 meters behind the mansion, glowing with an eerie yellow incandescence.

Dozens of staff dressed in black and white moved about the estate.

The car rolled to a stop before the towering double doors.

"Madam Sabrina, we have arrived."