4 hours and 47 minutes later...
13 minutes before the event begins...
Beijing, China — 19:47
The sky had gone dark, and the city had transformed into a glowing web of gold light streaking across the navy-blue heavens. Traffic below created rivers of crimson along the roads, shimmering faintly in the dense, urban air. A true "Night City."
One building stood as the luminous centerpiece. This skyscraper blazed golden brighter than anything else in sight. From a bird's-eye view, you could see the plaza in front of it—wide as two World Cup fields—complete with an opulent fountain encircled by a luxury roundabout.
Dozens of supercars, all worth no less than fifty million, lined the driveway like trophies: the toys of celebrities, moguls, and the ultra-wealthy. News vans from global and domestic media outlets parked along the edges, playing their part in this grand theater.
Handsome faces and flawless fashion swept through the entrance. The men's tuxedos—subtle in design—required close proximity to appreciate their fabrics. But the women? Every dress glittered like a gemstone: plunging necklines, elegant slits, and disco-ball brilliance under the relentless flash of cameras.
There were guests from every corner of the world—Chinese locals, other Asians, Europeans, Latinos, people of every hue and walk of life.
Of course... this was a global event.
In the organizers' zone, top-tier staff and elite event planners ran around in a frenzy to keep this spectacle on track.
But above it all—high up, past the elevators—inside a super VIP suite with a panoramic 360-degree view of Beijing, two people stood locked in a tense conversation.
Fred and Priya, the power couple and primary stakeholders of tonight's show.
Yet the tension on their faces had nothing to do with the event itself. Their minds were elsewhere—focused on the other side of their lives.
The incident at London Airport had reached them. News headlines around the world had spun it as an unfortunate personal tragedy. Authorities dismissed it as a private dispute, not terrorism.
But Fred and Priya knew the truth.
"They're coming here, Fred..." Priya, an Indian-Swedish woman with arms crossed, showed no visible fear.
"No idea how many… or from how many factions..."
"They're like ants. One drop of nectar on the floor, and the swarm descends. It's no surprise. Candy's gone. So is Bett. Sally's last seen at the airport—and now vanished. It was only a matter of time before they came for us."
Fred, her husband, turned toward her. "You contacted Diamond, right?"
"I did. This has already reached Him."
"And what did He say?"
"He said it's expected. Still within calculated limits."
"...Makes sense. The ones who've been taken were nothing but disposable tools—dirt under our fingernails. Even if they hadn't been eliminated now, once we finish our mission, we'd be the ones cleaning them up anyway... Where is He now?"
"Probably in Japan. He's on the field with the team."
Priya sipped water from a crystal glass. "But we should focus on our situation now, Fred. They'll be here. Doesn't matter what faction. If I were them, I'd strike tonight—here. And we can't act openly. What are we going to do with our security team? They killed Soniya like she was nothing. Our people are nothing more than termites to them."
"Then we don't face them head-on."
"...What do you mean?"
Priya's brows furrowed. Fred's confident expression didn't waver.
"We have him."
As if on cue, the rear door of the suite opened, ushered in by a guard.
A man stepped in—an Asian figure clad in a sleek white-and-black suit. His build was athletic yet poised. Gray-toned hair. Piercing green eyes. His movements were calm and deliberate, his presence cold and composed—so much so that even someone as high-ranking as Priya instinctively braced herself.
He was dangerous.
"I was sent by Him to ensure your safety."
The man addressed the couple with clear authority.
"...And you are?" Priya asked, her tone icy. The way he said it—was he implying they were incapable of protecting themselves?
Before tensions could rise further, Fred stepped forward and placed a calming hand on his wife's shoulder.
"This is Don. From Thailand. He's one of us."
He added, "With him around, we have nothing to worry about."
"...I've never heard of him. I don't trust him."
Priya didn't hold back, even in front of Don.
But Don didn't blink. He didn't flinch. His serenity remained unshaken. And that made Priya even more uneasy.
"My apologies for my wife's reaction," Fred offered quickly.
"It's fine," Don replied. "She's never met me. It's natural she doesn't trust me."
He continued, "But please believe this—I may be arrogant in saying so, but I swear on my life: I will not let a single enemy get close to you."
And with that, Don turned and exited the suite.
Fred stepped away to the massive window, gazing out over the city lights.
"Fred... can we really trust that man?"
"I don't blame you for asking... You've probably only ever heard whispers of his name, never seen the face behind it."
"...You know him personally? Underworld contact?"
Fred chuckled.
"Do you know what his alias is?"
"...What?"
"Don the Ghost-Glider."
"?!"
Priya's face dropped. Her eyes widened, a single bead of sweat trailing down her temple.
She stared at her husband… then turned her gaze to the door.
The deep bass of high-fashion music pulsed through the opulent ballroom. Lights swirled around like lasers. Brand ambassadors posed with products. Models paraded on and off the stage, back and forth behind curtains.
Jody had to borrow Sid's black sunglasses—she couldn't handle the onslaught of camera flashes. Sera, on the other hand, was right at home in a place like this.
They passed by celebrities and familiar industry faces.
But alas, they were here for work.
Mickey scanned the scene—elegantly dressed guests meandered back and forth in a bustling haze of heels and champagne.
The six agents found a quiet corner to regroup, away from the deafening EDM. Just then—
"Oh my god! Sera?! Is that you!?"
A model passing by squealed as she recognized her. Sera stepped away to greet the fan.
"Sure~ I'll be in touch soon~"
She rejoined the group, rolling her eyes.
Mickey: "We're here to work. Not network."
"Well, when you've got a face like this, people know you."
It was time.
Sid took the lead.
"...We wait for the targets to appear. Those two will definitely show. Let's split up."
"Toshi and Mickey—hit the power control room. Cause a diversion. Once it starts, you two escape separately. Mickey exits first through the power system. Toshi disguises himself and slips out with the guards. I'll head for the server room to stall the backup systems."
"What about Jody and Sera?" Toshi asked.
"They stay here with Sid. Someone needs to keep eyes on the targets. Mickey rejoins once he's done. He and Toshi will capture the targets and split them between the two getaway cars."
Roxxy's plan was clear.
But Mickey interrupted.
"That's too loose."
Sid nodded in agreement.
"If Roxxy goes solo into the server room and enemies show up—we're screwed. Those two will definitely be expecting us."
"So what do you propose, Mickey?"
Mickey's eyes sharpened.
"Sid shouldn't be on the floor. If those two see him, they'll panic and tighten security. He should stay with the cars. Jody should go with Roxxy."
Roxxy frowned. But Mickey explained logically.
"Jody's 'ears' are more useful in the server room. Let her cover Roxxy's blind spots while she works on the cameras."
He continued,
"Sid handles the cars. Toshi exits after and helps me and Sera. With Sera, we'll have a clean shot at Priya—and then Fred."
"..."
Roxxy didn't like it, but even she had to admit the logic was solid.
"Fine. Jody and I will meet at the fountain. You circle around and pick us up."
Plan summary:
Sid stays out of action—managing the cars.
Roxxy and Jody infiltrate the building's security systems and escape with the crowd once the targets are captured.
Sera remains on-site solo during the chaos. Mickey and Toshi will return to extract the targets once the diversion is complete.
Sid handed out five black metal plates—3x3cm squares, glowing faint red.
"Use this if shit goes south. Just hold it tight."
The plates were infused with his ability—ready to swap properties at a moment's notice.
Jody, already partially reinforced by Sid's power earlier, could now maintain a reinforced state for up to 20 minutes using this additional plate.
Sid ducked away, heading toward the parking garage.
Roxxy slipped away with Jody, searching for the building's security room.
Leaving Mickey, Toshi, and Sera on the ballroom floor.
"Can you hold the line solo?"
Mickey asked.
"I'll be fine."
Sera flipped her hair confidently.
"Good. Keep your ears open."
"Yeah yeah."
Just before Mickey and Toshi turned away...
"Hey. Mannix."
"...Hm?"
Not just Mickey—Toshi turned too.
Sera stepped up, pressing a finger to Mickey's chest.
"Watch yourself out there."
"..."
It was the first time either had heard her speak like that.
"You too, Toshi. Got it?"
"...Yeah... got it."
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the venue...
It wasn't just Fred & Priya and Thrak making moves.
Another faction—three operatives—had quietly infiltrated the party. All with eyes on the same prize.
Two men in suits: one with sky-blue hair, the other blonde. And a stunning woman in a silky black gown.
All wore subtle earpieces—receiving commands from their unseen leader.
"Blanchett, Euclid, Belle… all in position," the woman reported.
"What about Trigon?" Euclid asked.
"She's upstairs," said Belle, pointing toward the upper levels.
"She'll handle the server room."
"Yeah."
Blanchett turned to them, lips curling into a smirk.
"She's probably already inserting across the floor."
[No mistakes. You all know what it means if China catches wind that an American black ops team is operating on their soil.]
"Yes, ma'am."