126: underground currents

Tartarus, Entrance Number Three of the Sewage System.

It was a huge, rusty iron grate, exuding a nauseating dampness and moldy smell.

Craftsman B of the four-armed clan held the box, using two hands to tremblingly pull open the heavy grate door, while the other two hands tightly protected the 'Hope' in his arms.

He glanced back at the dark alleyway, confirmed no one was following, then took a deep breath and ducked inside.

The moment half his body entered that darkness—

“Don’t move!”

A furious roar exploded like thunder!

Several blindingly bright flashlights simultaneously lit up from all directions, enveloping him in a halo of light, like a sinner being judged on stage.

J’s Agents swarmed out like phantoms from the shadows of the walls, behind piles of accumulated garbage, and from the pipes overhead, with dark muzzles aimed squarely at him.

“Omni-Dimensional Trade Alliance! You are under arrest!”

Craftsman B’s mind went blank, his legs gave out, and he collapsed directly onto the ground, the box rolling into the muddy water... Fifty meters away, in the shadow of a parallel, narrower back alley.

The third Agent, a taciturn professional mercenary with a scar across his face, quietly observed the arrest operation happening over there.

Watching the panic-stricken Craftsman B being roughly pinned to the ground by the Agents, and seeing the box being carefully picked up by an analyst wearing white gloves, the corner of his mouth curled into a nearly imperceptible cold sneer.

He turned around, picked up an identical box flickering between real and illusory states resting by his feet, and silently vanished into the deeper darkness... Inside the Mobile Command Vehicle.

“Report, Officer! Target B has been successfully apprehended!”

“Report! The box has been secured and is undergoing preliminary scanning; no explosives detected!”

Listening to the good news coming through the headset, Shadow Chaser-J finally let out a long sigh, his tightly wound nerves relaxing.

He leaned back in his chair, feeling the fatigue and humiliation of the past few days dissipate like smoke at that moment.

“Well done,” he ordered in an almost pleased tone, “Take the prisoner and the box immediately to the Mobile Interrogation Room.”

“I want to open this ‘gift’ myself.”

... A few minutes later, at the end of an inconspicuous passage disguised as a garbage recycling station.

The Scar-faced Mercenary (Agent C) arrived before a heavy metal door.

He presented his iris to the scanner while speaking a single word in a low voice: “High Tide.”

“Beep.”

The metal door slid open silently, revealing a world completely different from the filth outside.

The Underground Logistics Network—the “Vascular System”.

It was a world of steel composed of countless silvery-white pipes and high-speed cargo capsules, the air carrying only the scent of cold metal and ozone.

Agent C skillfully walked to the control terminal of Transfer Hub Number Three and entered a long string of high-level, one-time Logistics Authorization Codes provided remotely by Su Li.

A transparent cargo capsule popped out from the pipeline.

He placed the box steadily inside, entered another complex anonymous coordinate in the destination field, and pressed the send button.

“Whoosh—”

The capsule was instantly sucked into the main pipeline by a powerful current, turning into a silver streak that disappeared into the depths of the network... Inside the Mobile Interrogation Room.

Shadow Chaser-J stood before a metal table, wearing the smile of a victor.

“Still resisting, Craftsman?” He looked at the trembling four-armed clan member tied to the chair, “Where is your accomplice?”

“I... I don’t know... I don’t know anything!”

“Is that so?” J sneered, “It seems I have to let you witness firsthand how your Hope is shattered.”

He gestured to an underling beside him.

An Agent stepped forward and violently cut along the edge of the box with a High-Energy Laser Cutter.

The harsh cutting sound and the splashing sparks made Craftsman B close his eyes.

“Hiss—”

The lid was pried open amidst a scorched smell and sprang aside.

J looked inside with a trace of cruel delight.

The box did not contain the marvelous artifact that shifted between reality and illusion.

It only held a heavy, grayish-black Lead Ingot.

On the surface of the Lead Ingot, painted roughly in red, was a huge, distorted—and silently mocking—

Question mark.

In the interrogation room, there was a dead silence.

The smile on J’s face froze inch by inch, then cracked, finally turning ashen.

He spun around abruptly, his eyes looking as if he wanted to devour the already terrified Craftsman alive... “Vascular System,” an already abandoned maintenance branch line.

The real cargo capsule silently arrived at this little-known dead end, hovering quietly at the end of the pipe.

“Creeeak—”

A small Drone disguised as a Pipe Cleaning Robot crawled out of a sewage outlet full of dirty water.

It extended its dexterous mechanical arm, retrieved the box, and then quickly turned, disappearing into another, narrower auxiliary pipe inaccessible even to humans... On the wanderer, in Lao Mo’s Personal Workshop cluttered with parts.

The cleaning robot made a slight noise as it slid down from the ventilation duct and placed the box steadily onto the workbench.

Lao Mo rushed over in three quick steps, opening the box lid with trembling hands.

The {schrödingers lockpick}, with its dreamlike, strange form constantly leaping between existence and non-existence, was finally revealed before them.

The cargo had arrived safely.

But at the same time, inside the Mobile Command Vehicle, the completely enraged Shadow Chaser-J smashed the screen in front of him, his eyes bloodshot.

“Connect me to Hecate!” he roared into the communicator, his voice hoarse and distorted by extreme anger.

“Tell her that in the name of the Omni-Dimensional Trade Alliance Security Council, I am applying to activate the highest level of the ‘Emergency Security Protocol’!”

“I want access to all surveillance footage and data streams across the entire Tartarus Free Port for the past forty-eight hours!”

“I want every single footprint of that rat dug out of the concrete floor!”