Information gathered like dew on a spider's web—seeping in from every direction toward the dip at the center, until the spider perched above could drink it down.
Countless signals wrapped around trembling strands, spreading and converging, until they delivered one sharp, unmistakable message.
Like now.
Swire lifted an eyebrow as she looked over the many forms and tables in her hands.
"As expected… this guy is bizarre."
Staring at the files—records that felt misaligned, almost unnaturally out of place—Swire took a sip of coffee, her eyes filled with wariness.
To Swire, the most mysterious and most worth watching in all of Lungmen wasn't the Rat King or some legendary unit or figure. Those things weren't secrets to the young lady of the Great Ancient Group; in many cases, she'd been the one connecting the dots in the first place.
Even if she didn't know every last detail, she understood perfectly well how deeply Lungmen was intertwined with her homeland. And she loved Lungmen. Ever since she'd been kidnapped here—and then rescued—she'd fallen in love with this city.
No reason. No logic. When you like something, you like it.
She'd even wanted to throw away her "young lady" status and come here to do the work she actually wanted to do.
Fortunately, once you're capable enough, cooperation is always on the table—anywhere, anytime. That was how she'd become part of Lungmen's workforce.
And she was satisfied with that identity. Satisfied with every day in Lungmen, with every person she helped.
Lungmen was like a noisy piece of music—everything about it brimming with life, pulsing with vitality.
But on that day, Swire heard a sudden discordant note.
At first, it started with a greeting.
"Ah, Miss Swire. Pleased to meet you. For a small fry like me, it's truly a tremendous honor."
Even at the time, Swire thought that greeting was strange.
First: Swire had never publicly revealed her internal standing. People might know she was rich, but they shouldn't have known the specifics.
Second: She'd heard those words from a man who had just effortlessly found an opening in Lungmen's gangs, and—together with Penguin Logistics—had knocked out dozens of incoming gangsters, then smiled as he spoke.
Small fry?
Swire knew Lungmen was packed with hidden talent. A mere superintendent or inspector-level post wasn't anything special.
The Lungmen Guard Department was only what sat on the surface. The ones who truly maintained order and stability were elsewhere.
That man shouldn't have been "qualified" to know such things—and yet he clearly acted like someone who did know.
From that greeting alone, Swire began to suspect Li Lin.
And that thin thread of suspicion eventually pulled up a report so eerie it could only be described as… seeing a ghost.
Unknown race. Unknown lineage. Unknown Originium Arts. Even how he'd come to Lungmen was unknown.
Lungmen was large, but the number of brokers working both black and white was limited, and most had deep ties to the Rat King and Lungmen's official channels.
To slip into Lungmen quietly—unless you had some kind of invisibility-type Originium Art—was basically treated as impossible.
Yet he had entered so openly, so naturally.
The first time anyone recorded his presence, he walked straight into the End of the Earth bar and asked—by name—to join Penguin Logistics.
He seemed utterly certain about certain things, and even understood problems that should have been unknowable.
In just two months, he'd firmly established himself in Lungmen. With half-vague intelligence and traps that landed with uncanny precision, he'd completed multiple tasks that were, by any reasonable standard, "setups."
But the problem was: no one knew where his intelligence came from.
How did he know the contact routes for Lungmen's underground gangs?
How did he know who the Rat King really was—and what he looked like?
How did he know Lungmen's internal arrangements, and certain "retired" big figures?
When he accurately singled the Rat King out from a crowd and bowed in greeting, the Rat King himself had been startled.
After all, he'd hidden behind the scenes for a very long time. Outside of old brothers and veteran locals, almost no one could identify him at a glance.
But what truly frightened Swire wasn't even those questions.
Networks and channels existed everywhere. For all she knew, he could be an intelligence asset from some country who'd chosen to defect and vanish. That kind of story wasn't rare in Lungmen.
What Swire was really watching—what put her on edge—was his gaze.
Calm. Detached. And never stopping.
He observed everything around him with a warm surface and a cold, disciplined focus—especially the places that were dangerous, lethal.
Originium casting units. Vehicle Originium engines. Shop Originium power furnaces.
His eyes drifted to those spots again and again.
And people, of course, were no exception.
He stared at the vital points of every passerby—even his own people. He never seemed to let go of vigilance, always holding that taut, sharpened posture.
What was he afraid of?
What was he observing?
What was he monitoring?
A man like that arriving in Lungmen—without anyone needing to say it—was a mystery. A mystery that needed understanding.
"Dress plainly. Put on some commoner clothes and tail him. That'll be discreet and won't draw attention. Yes. Perfect."
"A normal person can't be suspicious of every passerby. This is a subtle filter—if he spots me immediately, then that man is definitely a problem…"
"Fang-Intestine Dragon, you'll be thanking me eventually. I'm skipping work to keep watch for you. I'm pressing this danger down for you."
Swire nodded to herself, looking at the translucent trench coat and thin inner layer she'd bought early—specifically for surveillance and disguise.
At the same time—
At the End of the Earth bar, Li Lin looked over the gangsters sprawled all over the ground and stared, a little speechless, at the companions before him—somehow still brimming with energy despite not having slept for a full day.
"…So you're saying you plan to use this opportunity to take a big job and lure the gangs in, then wipe them all out in one sweep?"
"Yes!"
Angel saluted, grinning brightly as she answered.
"I named it: Operation Apple Pie! We wipe them all out in one go, solve everything once and for all—just like finishing an apple pie!"
"…As long as you're happy."
Wow. Penguin Logistics, as always.
Looking at the four girls already geared up and ready to move, Li Lin knew there wasn't much he could do besides follow along and "contribute" by existing.
"Then we should just throw away the two apple pies. At this rate, we won't even eat them today. Aren't we going to fight gangs? They've been sitting two days—they'll probably go bad—"
"We'll eat them now! Where are they?!"
"They're in the back of the car."
"Yahoo! I love you to death!"
"Hah…"
If you really loved me, that would be extremely exciting. And honestly, the way you're dressed is already pretty exciting.
Watching Angel whirl to the back of the car like a tornado, lifting the two apple pies in giddy triumph, Li Lin leaned against a porch pillar and sighed.
And at that moment, he looked up and saw Sora blink at him—then point toward an empty room.
"…?"
What does that mean?
What are you trying to pull—some private meeting?
Is my "romance arc" finally starting?
As Sora walked inside, Li Lin couldn't help thinking it.
-------
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