T/N: I've made some modifications to this chapter, and I hope it's still readable. I'm honestly a bit embarrassed about my own writing, so whenever I change something, doubts always creep in—is this good? Is this okay? What if the original was already fine? That kind of thing. But, well… I'm the one translating this, so let's just go with it. Alright, back to the main text.
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Time slipped by minute after minute, and the sky beyond the window slowly sank into darkness.
Inside the counterfeit den, the printer continued its relentless buzz, churning out sheets of fake bills soaked in the sharp stench of ink.
"Why isn't Yellow Hair back yet?"
A short-haired subordinate manning the printer frowned. "It's been almost an hour past the agreed time. The meeting spot isn't even far from here."
"Yeah, Boss," another man said, pausing mid-count with unease written across his face. "What if the cops grabbed him? The police station's right across the street… I've got a bad feeling about this."
Silver Fox sat at the computer desk, cigarette between her fingers. She looked calm, but the steady drumming of her fingers against the tabletop betrayed her nerves.
"What are you panicking for, you idiots?" she snapped, crushing her cigarette into an ashtray already overflowing with butts.
"We were careful. The meeting place was a quiet corner of the park, and the time was sent at the last minute. There's no way the cops could've caught on."
She narrowed her eyes, another thought surfacing.
"If anything, it's more likely that bastard ran off with my money."
Her teeth clenched, eyes flashing.
"This deal was worth a million yen. That greedy piece of trash probably decided to pocket it! Damn it—stealing from me of all people!"
Just then—
Knock, knock, knock.
Three long knocks, two short.
The room went dead silent.
All eyes snapped toward the door.
"Boss, it's me. Yellow Hair."
His voice came from outside, muffled, as if he were covering his mouth.
"Hurry up and open the door. I got the money—it's heavy."
It was his voice.
Silver Fox's shoulders loosened slightly. She slid the pistol she'd drawn back into the small of her waist—but didn't fully relax.
She stepped to the door and peered through the peephole.
Her breath caught.
The man stood close, his face hard to make out, but the bag slung in front of him was wide open—stuffed with bundles of cash.
The sight made her eyes gleam.
Without hesitation, she twisted the doorknob.
The moment the door cracked open, the figure outside suddenly shoved—not inward, but hard, blasting the door wide open.
Silver Fox stumbled back.
And the person who burst inside was not Yellow Hair.
A green-haired girl with twin pigtails stormed in, a three-section staff flashing in her hands.
A portable recorder clattered to the floor, looping a familiar voice:
"Boss, it's me. Yellow Hair…"
"Welfare check!" Qing Yi chirped cheerfully—while her staff snapped forward with deadly precision.
"Shit!"
Silver Fox yanked for her gun, but Qing Yi was faster. One clean strike sent the pistol skidding across the floor.
In the next instant, Qing Yi slammed into her, twisting and driving her down with a practiced tackle. Silver Fox hit the floor hard, the air knocked from her lungs.
"Ugh—!"
She struggled, snarling toward her stunned subordinates. "What are you standing around for?! Grab your weapons! Get her!"
Her shout was answered by the sound of shattering glass.
Crash!
Both windows exploded inward at once.
Two figures vaulted through.
Zhu Yuan landed in a smooth roll, her gun already raised. "Don't move! Drop everything!"
Seth followed like a charging beast, sweeping one man off his feet and locking him down before he could react.
In less than ten seconds, it was over.
All suspects—including Silver Fox—were pinned, cuffed, and helpless.
Zhu Yuan holstered her weapon and surveyed the scattered counterfeit bills before stepping up to Silver Fox, who was restrained on the floor.
"We received a tip about counterfeit production here," Zhu Yuan said coolly. "And now the evidence is right in front of us. Come quietly—it's just across the street."
Interrogation Room
Harsh white light flooded the room.
Silver Fox slumped in the interrogation chair, cuffs glinting coldly against her wrists.
Zhu Yuan sat across from her, arms folded, gaze sharp.
Qing Yi took notes nearby, a cup of tea steaming beside her.
"Silver Fox," Zhu Yuan began, flipping open the file. "Real name: Yamada Mie. Repeat counterfeiter. Three years ago, you served two years for manufacturing and selling fake currency. Released last year."
She looked up. "Why are you back at it already? Prison food not to your taste?"
Silver Fox laughed weakly, shoulders sagging. "Why? Isn't it obvious? I can't make real money."
Zhu Yuan paused. "Then why not get a legitimate job?"
"A legitimate job?" Silver Fox scoffed. "That's not happening in this lifetime."
Qing Yi nearly choked on her tea, coughing as she scribbled a note: Suspect displays questionable life philosophy.
Zhu Yuan pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright. Then answer me this—if you insist on counterfeiting, why make it so bad? The ink runs, the color bleeds. Have you ever think about improving the quality?"
Silver Fox's composure cracked.
"You think I didn't want to?" she snapped. "Do you know how much that costs?! Technology, materials—money I didn't have!"
Her voice rose, trembling.
"I borrowed two million yen from a loan shark. Imported 'high-grade' ink and paper. I thought I'd finally get into the high-end stuff—the kind that fools detectors!"
Her hands shook as she laughed bitterly.
"And what did I get? Two million in… one and a half out."
She slammed her cuffed hands against the table.
"I lost half a million yen! Do you think this is easy? Do you think I wanted it to end like this?!"
Her voice cracked, tears welling as she wiped her face in frustration.
"I had no choice. I had to sell it—anything to claw back some of the loss…"
The room fell quiet.
Zhu Yuan studied her for a long moment.
Qing Yi slowly set her pen down, eyes thoughtful.
The case was solved—but the desperation behind it was painfully clear.