See, i don't know if I will continue this story or not, because I'm lazy asf!! And if i dropped it in the middle, not my fault tho, if it gets very famous, then I will think about it

My first language isn't english, if there is a mistake, then it is what it is

Who knows you will giggles or cry or... Curl your toes? Who knows....

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"I carved his name into silence, because saying it out loud would've destroyed me."

The roar of the crowd drowned every thought in my head.

They screamed for their idols, fists in the air, banners shaking. It wasn't just a tournament-it was war disguised as sport.

Two figures clashed in the ring, every strike sharper than steel. The boy in red was dripping with sweat, his chest heaving, eyes wild with desperation.

Then it happened.

His fist connected with his opponent's skull.

Too hard.

The sound of it cracked through the stadium.

The opponent staggered, then collapsed-blood trailing from his temple, body still.

The boy in red froze.

He didn't breathe. He didn't move.

The crowd, once a storm, fell silent.

And then-

Darkness.

Blank.

The dream shattered into pieces.

His body jolted awake.

Breath ragged. Sweat clinging to his skin.

For a long moment, he just sat on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands. The nightmare lingered in his chest, heavy and sharp, though his mind was blank.

When he finally moved, it was slow. Mechanical. He pushed himself toward the restroom and splashed water over his face.

The mirror caught him.

Brown eyes, dark and heavy. Water dripping from his lashes like tears he never allowed himself. Dry lips-shaped beautifully, but pressed into silence. Fair skin, dulled by exhaustion. His gaze held no light, only a cold emptiness that stared back at him like a stranger.

Water traced down from his hair, dripping along his jaw until it hit his chin. He turned away before the reflection could say more than he wanted to hear.

On the bed lay his uniform. He stared at it. A simple set-black pants, a plain t-shirt, a loose jacket tossed beside them. Normal, casual. Almost painfully so.

He dressed in silence. No glance back at the mirror. No words spoken into the empty air of his house.

There was no one left to say goodbye to.

The street outside buzzed with morning life. He walked through it like a ghost until the building appeared before him-steel, glass, and order.

Inside, the sound of boots echoed. People in pressed cop uniforms moved through the halls, papers in hand, radios crackling.

And he slipped into their world, quiet as a shadow.

"Zhang Wei!"

The call cracked through the noise of the station.

He stopped, shoulders stiff, and turned just enough to see a young officer jogging toward him-his teammate. The boy's uniform looked too neat for this place, his expression too bright for this hour.

Zhang Wei sighed, shifted his gaze away, and resumed walking.

The other officer caught up quickly, falling into step beside him. For a while, neither spoke. The silence between them felt heavier than the chatter echoing in the halls.

They reached the team's office, the door was already half-open. Papers were stacked high on the desks, a faint buzz of voices leaking from inside.

Zhang Wei's hand lingered on the doorknob for a second. Just a second. Then he pushed it open and stepped in.

The day had begun.

To be continued "待續"

'The city sleeps, but shadows hunt.

Blood is currency, and fear is law.

Where serpents crawl... hope dies.'

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Zhang Wei sat lazily on the couch, one hand holding a glass of watermelon juice as he stared blankly out the window. The station buzzed with chatter, but his mind was somewhere else.

The door creaked open. Their senior walked in, his steps heavy with authority. Instantly, everyone in the room stood up straight-except Zhang Wei.

The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sit down, kids." His voice carried a mixture of exhaustion and command. His finger shot toward Zhang Wei. "Look at him. Always disrespecting me! His senior. Tsk, tsk." He shook his head dramatically.

Zhang finally turned his gaze from the window, eyes cold and judgmental. "Grow up, old man."

Gasps rippled through the room. A vein twitched on the senior's forehead. "Old man? I'm only forty-five, you brat! You should grow up a little." He exhaled sharply, then waved his hand as if Zhang wasn't worth the energy. "Forget it. We've got work."

He tossed a file onto the desk, the papers spilling slightly. His tone turned grave.

"There's a gang operating in the city. Human trafficking. Not just women-children too. We've received multiple reports of missing people. The pattern is clear: they're targeting those with no families, or single-parent households. Vulnerable targets."

The room went silent. Even Zhang Wei's smirk faded slightly.

The senior-Captain Han Jinhai-fixed his eyes on Zhang Wei.

"This case is yours to solve, Zhang Wei. Don't screw it up."

Captain Han Jinhai left the room, the door shutting with a thud. Zhang Wei finally pushed himself up, grabbed the scattered files, and flipped them open.

His teammates joined him.

Zhao Ming, leaning casually against the desk, picked up one of the reports. His long lashes cast shadows against his hazel eyes, sharp but with an effortless nonchalance. His lips curved faintly, soft and pink, his skin flawless from the skincare routine he religiously bragged about. To anyone else, he looked like he belonged on a magazine cover, not a police squad.

On the other hand, Zi Xuan's voice broke through.

"I heard the gang leader is terrifying. People don't work for him out of loyalty, but because he owns their lives. If anyone dares to disobey him-one swing of his knife..." Zi Xuan sliced his finger across his throat, shivering. "Gone. Just like that." Goosebumps rose in his arms.

Zi Xuan, with his light blond-streaked hair and smooth fair skin, looked every bit like the spoiled rich kid he was-born not with a silver spoon, but a golden one. Despite his muscular build, he was a crybaby at heart. Animals, sweets, anything soft-he claimed them all like a child. Yet the one thing he truly feared... was Zhang Wei. One cold glare from him, and Zi Xuan would shrink away like a kicked puppy.

Zhang Wei's gaze slid over, sharp as a knife.

"Get me full information about him and the Black Serpents. Follow them quietly. Don't attack. Just watch and see who their next target is." His tone was low, threatening. "And if I find out you slipped up... you're dead."

Zi Xuan didn't even answer-he bolted out of the room like his life depended on it. Zhao Ming burst into laughter, watching him flee.

"Poor kid. You'll give him a heart attack one day." He tilted his head, amused. "So, leader... what's the plan?"

Zhang Wei's eyes lowered back to the file. One particular report was clipped with red ink. He spoke, voice sharp.

"The girl who nearly got kidnapped fought back. She escaped... but only for a short time. They found her body yesterday." He slammed the file shut, his jaw tightening. "We're going to the crime scene. The search team is already there."

He grabbed his jacket in one swift motion, draping it over his shoulders as he strode toward the door. Zhao Ming followed, still smirking but his eyes burning with interest.

And just like that, Zhang Wei walked out-

toward the place where blood still stained the ground.

To be continued "待續"

"In the silence of the forest, even the smallest whispers can reveal the loudest truths."

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Zhang Wei and Zhao Ming stepped out of their black car, the forest air carrying a faint chill. Ahead of them, the search team combed through every corner, flashlights sweeping the ground, eyes sharp yet weary.

Zhang Wei approached the leading officer.

"Did you find anyone, or anything nearby?" he asked, his voice calm yet edged with authority.

The officer shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes.

"We tried very hard, sir, but the gang is clever. They never leave a single clue behind."

Zhao Ming, restless as always, wandered a few steps away, scanning the grass. Suddenly, his sharp gaze caught the glint of metal. He bent down and picked up a cracked phone half-buried in the grass.

"Leader! I found something!"

Zhang Wei turned sharply and strode toward him. His glare was sharp enough to cut through steel.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Wear gloves before touching evidence."

Zhao Ming stuck out his tongue playfully.

"Oops, I forgot."

Suppressing his irritation, Zhang Wei slipped on a pair of black gloves before taking the phone from him. The screen was shattered, unresponsive, its body damaged. He studied it for a moment, then sighed.

"Get this fixed by tomorrow. And tell them-if they delete even a single file, I'll delete them. Got it?"

Zhao Ming straightened, saluting dramatically before tucking the phone into an evidence bag.

"Yes, Leader!" he said with a grin before hurrying off.

Left alone for a moment, Zhang Wei drew in a long breath. The forest felt suffocating, shadows pressing in from all sides. He ran a hand through his hair, the simple motion only amplifying his striking looks-effortlessly handsome even amidst the tension of a crime scene.

Zhang Wei was about to leave when a sudden scream split through the forest. He didn't flinch-his steps steady, his expression unreadable-as he walked toward the sound.

An officer was on the ground, gagging, his flashlight trembling.

The smell hit first. Thick, rotting, suffocating. Zhang Wei slipped on a black mask, his sharp eyes narrowing as he approached.

There she was. A girl's body, brutally disfigured-deep cuts carved into her flesh, her face unrecognizable, as if death itself had tried to erase her identity.

Even hardened officers struggled to look, covering their mouths as they fought back vomit. Zhang Wei crouched closer, scanning every inch, his expression unmoved. No weapons, no traces, no clues. Only silence and the stench of blood.

"Send the body to the lab," he ordered coldly, straightening. "I want every detail. If you get anything, report immediately. I'm leaving for now."

Hands shoved casually into his pockets, Zhang Wei walked away, as though the forest of death had no power over him.

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, Zi Xuan was on his fourth cup of milk tea, sighing for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

"Hours of running around... and not a single damn clue," he muttered.

Frustration pushed him into a grimy alley. The stench hit instantly-rot, piss, and something unholy.

"Oh my god, it smells like hell's bathroom in here," Zi Xuan gagged, covering his mouth with his sleeve. His brain screamed leave, but his gut whispered this is exactly where trash like them would hide.

So, holding his breath and silently judging his life choices, he pressed on. Thirty minutes of filth, rats, and mental breakdown later-he finally saw them.

A group of boys huddled together, faces twisted, laughter sick, like they needed therapy more than handcuffs. Zi Xuan crouched low, hiding behind a rusted barrel, ears sharp.

"Who's the next target?" one of them asked.

"I heard it's a girl. Little girl. Get ready to grab her at 5 p.m. in **** Park. Meet me at the place." The leader's voice was low, final. Then he left, while the others stayed behind, rambling nonsense and laughing like idiots.

Zi Xuan slipped out as quietly as he came, lungs begging for fresh air. He staggered out of the alley, coughing, almost vomiting. Then, despite himself, a grin spread across his face.

"Disgusting as hell... but worth it."

He gagged again dramatically, spitting on the ground.

"Ugh. I deserve three more milk teas after this."

To be continued "待續"