CHAPTER 3: A COLD CASE IN HARBOR CITY

The coffee in the paper cup had gone cold, its bitter taste a familiar companion. Detective Julian Zheng stared at the corkboard that dominated the wall of his cramped office at the Harbor City Police Department, Central Precinct. The board was a chaotic constellation of faces, documents, and lines of red string, all revolving around a single, faded photograph at its center.

Detective Liang. His mentor. Dead three years ago.

The official report, dated October 17, 2021, listed the cause of death as a heart attack. Case closed. But Julian knew Liang's heart had been as strong as an ox. What he did have was an obsession. An off-the-books investigation into a string of powerful, untouchable men.

Julian's finger traced a line from Liang's photo to a printed logo: a stylized globe with the name "Sterling Dynamics" wrapped around it. The company's headquarters was a gleaming, soulless tower of glass and steel in the city's Financial District, right on Victoria Bay. According to public records, they were a logistics and maritime shipping giant. According to Liang's secret notes, they were a front.

A new thumbtack held a recent addition to his board: a surveillance photo of a young woman with the ethereal grace of a dancer. Elara Meng. Daughter of the famous ballerina, Liana Meng, who had died in a suspicious car crash on the Sea Cliff Expressway back in 2014. He'd pulled the old case file. It was thin, closed too quickly. Just like Liang's.

And now, for the past year, Elara Meng had been living in Kian Huo's private penthouse at the peak of The Argent Tower. No public appearances. No social media. A ghost in a glass castle.

Kian Huo. The CEO of Huo Enterprises. A man whose digital footprint was everywhere and whose personal life was a black hole. A man whose name appeared in Liang's notes with a question mark scribbled next to it. A man whose corporation had a multi-billion dollar data-sharing contract with Sterling Dynamics.

The connections were there, faint and tangled, like a spider's web you only see when the morning dew settles on it.

The door to his office creaked open. Captain Davies stood there, a thick file in his hand and a weary look on his face.

"Zheng," Davies said, his voice gravelly. "I just got a call from the Deputy Commissioner."

Julian didn't look away from the board. He knew what was coming.

"It's about your inquiries into Sterling Dynamics," Davies continued, stepping inside. He smelled of stale cigars and bureaucratic pressure. "They're... sensitive. The company is a major investor in the city's port expansion project. They have friends in high places."

"Liang thought they were laundering money," Julian said, his voice flat. "Maybe worse."

"Liang is dead," Davies countered, his tone softening slightly. "And his case is closed. Officially. I'm being told to reassign you. The serial burglaries in the Riverside district. It's a high-profile case, good for a promotion."

A promotion. A quiet transfer away from the truth. It was the oldest trick in the book.

"With all due respect, Captain, I'm close to something here."

"Close to what? A ten-year-old car crash? A three-year-old heart attack?" Davies tossed the file onto Julian's cluttered desk. It landed with a heavy thud. "This isn't a suggestion, Julian. It's an order. Drop it. Let the dead rest."

The captain left, the door closing with a click of finality. Julian stood motionless for a long moment, the silence of the room pressing in on him. Let the dead rest. But Liang's ghost wouldn't let him. It was a debt he had to pay.

He picked up the new file, "Riverside Burglaries," and dropped it straight into the trash bin.

He sat down, pulled out his phone, and navigated to a secure messaging app. He owed his informant a heads-up. A hacker who called himself "Marco," a ghost in the machine who had once worked for Sterling and now lived in paranoid exile somewhere in the concrete jungles of Tokyo. Marco was the one who had confirmed Elara Meng was Kian Huo's prisoner, not his guest.

He typed a quick, coded message.

They're putting up roadblocks. She needs to know she's not alone, but the heat is on. Official channels are compromised.

He hit send. The message was a shot in the dark, a whisper into the void. He didn't know who Liam Feng was, or if he could be trusted to pass the warning to Elara. But it was the only move he had left.

His gaze returned to the board. To the photo of Liana Meng, so vibrant and full of life. To the photo of Elara, her modern counterpart trapped in the same web. This wasn't just about justice for his mentor anymore. It was about saving the daughter before she met the mother's fate.

He had to find another way in. A way around the roadblocks, under the radar.

A way that didn't involve a badge.