Chapter 17

In September 2017, under the scorching Colombian sun, a 24-year-old young Beta agent stood in the shade of the street, dressed in a crisp black suit, fanning himself vigorously with a folder.

Li Jiali, in her denim dungarees, was a stark contrast, fitting right in with the locals and tourists passing by. The two couldn’t have looked more different; their lone common thread being the silver olive-leaf brooches pinned to their chests. She frowned. "It’s so hot, and you’re dressed like this? At least switch to linen."

"We’re meeting with the management of District 13," Xu Zhangying checked his watch. "I asked—formal wear is non-negotiable for men when discussing business with them."

"What management? Just gangsters. I doubt they’ll be any help," Li Jiali shrugged. "And with you in a suit, our two-person team looks even less credible."

Xu Zhangying laughed. "Don’t be so pessimistic. Respect the local customs. This city is light-years better than it was ten years ago. Gov reports even say how the local gangs have put in serious effort to govern their territories—I’ll go get the car. Now’s the perfect time to head to their office."

Many regions and cities in South America appear no different from those in North America or Europe—wide roads, lush greenery, stable public order. But what keeps them running isn’t the government; it’s the local gangs. Their operations resemble governance: they collect taxes but also invest in infrastructure and organize security. Of course, the areas they control are mostly slums or economically underdeveloped zones.

This was exactly what worried Li Jiali. The two had come to this city to investigate a case of abducted girls. The case first came to light in April when a video was posted online, showing a girl covered in needle marks, shackled to a metal bed, her eyes hollow. Over the 13-minute video, at least six men appeared. Initially dismissed as a mockumentary-style smut film, netizens soon noticed other girls similarly imprisoned in the background—at least five more, though the footage was too blurry to be certain. The video quickly reached the AGB, and forensics confirmed it as authentic footage of sexual crimes. The original site hosting the video was swiftly taken down, but satellite tracking traced the IP to a city in South America.

Li Jiali and Xu Zhangying were here to investigate. As the first team on the ground, their only lead was that blurry video. After taking over the case, Xu Zhangying used architectural details from the footage and the men’s accents to narrow down the location of the imprisoned girls to the northern district of this small city—once a slum, now a tourist area after unofficial self-rule efforts.

The house was likely a renovated wooden structure from Colombia’s colonial era in the 1960s, facing north toward the sun and possibly near the sea, according to Xu Zhangying’s assessment. But before they could investigate, they had to report to the "management"—the gang’s leadership—to notify them. If things went well, they might even receive assistance.

By the time they left the "White House," evening was approaching. Li Jiali’s hands were slick with sweat, but the beta young man in the driver’s seat had already loosened his tie, looking pleased as he drove downhill.

Li Jiali’s nerves hadn’t yet settled. She instinctively touched the holster at her thigh. She’d been with the AGB for less than a year and partnered with this beta for barely two months. When they entered the "White House," she hadn’t fully grasped that they were stepping into the heart of a gang with unofficial self-rule—until the door shut behind them, and men in expensive suits laughed while pinning them to the wall. In less than a second, their sidearms were snatched, all while the cold barrel of a gun pressed into her back.

Though outwardly, District 13’s gangs appeared orderly—even boasting their own websites, tax systems, and policing—Li Jiali now understood their foundation was still violence. The villa was filled with patrolling members, all familiar with each other, smoking cigars and greeting one another warmly, as if they carried blue folders instead of submachine guns.

They were led to a study, its decor somewhat dated. A dark-skinned, ordinary-looking man in his forties sat behind the desk. At the sound of their arrival, he looked up, his hawk-like eyes locking onto them.

The two who’d escorted them didn’t leave, merely closing the door and standing behind them, submachine guns in hand, like watchful snakes. The man’s gaze lingered on Li Jiali, and in an instant, she was forced into an alpha standoff—one where his pheromones maliciously bore down on her.

"Female AGB agents are rare," the man said in Spanish.

Li Jiali’s skin prickled. She hesitated over whether to resist with her own pheromones when her partner chuckled beside her. "Beta agents aren’t rare either, sir."

The disgusting stare shifted to Xu Zhangying, and Li Jiali felt the oppressive pheromones ease slightly.

"You’re right. Seems the AGB isn’t what it used to be," the middle-aged man said, opening a cigar box, snipping the end, and lighting it. Smoke and the scent of spices filled the small study.

Unshaken by the jab, the beta detective merely shrugged. "Not necessarily. I’d say it’s because I’m exceptionally capable."

A cold silence fell over the room. Just as sweat beaded on Li Jiali’s palm, a cigar struck Xu Zhangying’s chest. "Let’s hear why you’re here, AGB agents."

In the end, the gang granted them permission to operate in District 13—though it was nothing more than a handshake deal from the dark-skinned man, with no recording or documentation. Beyond that, the "management" offered no assistance—no personnel, no intel, no search warrants for residences.

Li Jiali rolled down the window. The wind whipped in, salty with the ocean. The road downhill stretched straight and long, as if leading directly to the sea. The sunset bled into the water, the sky blooming into cocktail-hour colors.

"We’ve got permission. Where do we investigate next?" Li Jiali asked.

Xu Zhangying tossed his suit jacket and tie into the backseat, grinning. "The seaside first. I asked that guard, Baroca—he said the old houses facing the sea are in the former slum area. Most have been torn down, but a lot of moneyed folks live there now too."

Li Jiali didn’t even remember him talking to any gang members. She crossed her arms. "Moneyed folks living in District 13? Are they insane?"

Xu Zhangying held a cigarette between his lips, one-handing the wheel while flicking open a lighter with the other. "Didn’t that restaurant owner at lunch proudly say their security’s better than the rich districts? Steal in the south, you go to jail. Steal here, you get dumped in the ocean."

Soon, they parked at a three-story building at the foot of the hill, its inconspicuous sign marking it as a flophouse with an open-air parking lot.

Xu Zhangying slung a travel bag over one shoulder, carrying Li Jiali’s luggage in his other hand. "Slum hotel. You scared, Ali?"

Li Jiali shrugged, brushing her fingers over her holster before raising an eyebrow. "First time for everything. Think of it as a new adventure."

The two booked a suite on the third floor. Despite being in what was called a slum, the hotel owner meticulously checked their passports and enthusiastically recommended the upcoming cultural festival starting the next day, as well as his own trendy garden restaurant.

By the time they finished unpacking, it was already dark. Through the window, they could see dense greenery illuminated by colorful lights from the hotel’s featured restaurant. Xu Changying suggested Li Jiali go down first to check out the menu while he changed out of his button-up and dress pants.

“Too bad you’re not an Omega,” Li Jiali said, leaning against the white doorframe in a bright strappy dress, sighing. “Otherwise, this business trip could double as a honeymoon.”

Xu Changying crossed his arms helplessly. “Want to settle for me?”

Li Jiali snorted laughing, waved her hand dismissively, and headed downstairs.

Xu Changying closed the door and touched the holster at his waist, pondering which casual outfit would be most practical for movement. Suddenly, he heard a muffled thump, like something hitting the stairwell.

Their suite was one of only two on the third floor, and the hotel had just one narrow staircase leading up. The second floor had many basic, dirt-cheap rooms—though most ordinary tourists still avoided staying there.

Xu Changying stood and yanked the door open. Their room faced the stairwell, which was unlit. Gripping his holster, he cautiously descended and snapped the light on. “Who’s there?” he called in Spanish.

No one answered. Xu Changying relaxed and turned back to his room. Just as he clicked the lock shut, a cold blade pressed against his throat.

“Hands up. Don’t reach for your gun,” said a very young male voice.

Xu Changying slowly raised his hands. “Not very polite. My gun’s licensed, you know.”

“Shut up. You’re a *beta*?” The man behind him sounded aggressive, having likely tried to suppress him with pheromones but quickly realizing it had no effect.

“You guys have such a stereotype about AGB operatives. You’re the seventh person in Colombia to question my identity,” Xu Changying said, exasperated.

“Why is AGB here?!” The man—or rather, boy—clearly hadn’t known Xu Changying’s identity, making him realize this wasn’t a planned ambush.

“Well, it’s a long story…” As the boy reached for Xu Changying’s gun, Xu Changying suddenly twisted the wrist holding the knife and drove an elbow hard into the boy’s ribs. With a yelp of pain, the boy was flipped onto his stomach, wrists wrenched behind his back—all in less than a second.

The boy glared back with murderously cold hatred, his striking Asian features locking eyes with Xu Changying.

Both froze for a moment.

Xu Changying studied the teenager’s face and tentatively asked in Spanish, “Japanese? Singaporean? Don’t tell me you’re Chinese?”

The last sentence was in Mandarin. Seeing the boy’s slight reaction, Xu Changying knew he’d guessed right. “We’re fellow countrymen. So young, yet so ruthless.”

As he spoke, he pried the knife from the boy’s grip and tossed it onto the sofa. Keeping the struggling teen pinned, he scanned the room for something to tie him up with.

“You can’t be older than fifteen. Pretty face—how’d you end up in Colombia?” Spotting Li Jiali’s silk scarf on the couch, Xu Changying quickly bound the boy’s hands in a tight knot, then dragged him to the bathroom.

The boy was unusually good-looking, with ambiguous ethnicity—black hair and eyes—but his expression was dangerously hostile, as if he wanted to bite Xu Changying’s throat out.

Ignoring the hostility, Xu Changying crouched in front of him, tilting his head. “You’re not a gang member, are you? I asked around today—they said they don’t recruit minors anymore.”

“Let me go. I’ll owe you,” the boy finally said in fluent Mandarin after giving up his struggle.

Xu Changying burst out laughing. The boy turned beet-red with humiliation. “I’m not laughing at you,” Xu Changying quickly explained. “I think you’re cool—major mobster aura. Ever seen *Scarface*? You’ve got that Al Pacino energy.”

“Shut up!”

Xu Changying raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m heading down to eat—my colleague’s waiting. What do you like to eat? I can bring you something later.”

“Are you really an AGB operative?”

“Huh?” Xu Changying turned to see the boy’s dubious look.

“Wouldn’t a normal person call the cops?”

Xu Zhangying went 'Huh,' stroking his chin thoughtfully before replying, "I heard from people in District 13 that robbery and theft here get you whacked by the higher-ups. That’s fucked up. You’re so young, and to lose your life without even stealing anything... I’d feel guilty too..."

Before Xu Zhangying could finish his rambling, heavy footsteps thudded outside the door. The boy’s face instantly turned deathly pale, and the next second, Xu Zhangying’s door was slammed hard.

Xu Zhangying gave a long look at the despairing boy, turned to close the bathroom door, walked into the living room, put on his suit jacket again, snagged the brooch off the table and clipped it to his lapel, popped his holster open, and wrenched the door open.

Three hulking guys stood outside, guns already up as the door swung open.

Xu Zhangying tilted his head, his expression icy, and asked coldly in Spanish, "The hell do you want?"

The three men first scanned Xu Zhangying’s holster and the brooch on his collar. The leader, a white man with tattooed arms, snapped, "Who are you? Why are you staying here?"

Xu Zhangying calmly held up his AGB badge to their faces. "AGB International Anti-Gender Violence Organization. Your government invited us to investigate a case. I just returned from the White House. Did Mr. Jesse send you to check on my accommodations?"

At the mention of the White House and Jesse, their expressions shifted dramatically, their arrogance deflating. The leader exchanged a glance with the man on his left, who then growled, "What’s AGB doing in our District 13? What case are you working on?"

When it came to the case, Xu Zhangying’s tone grew even more composed and natural. "It’s a child sex trafficking ring. There’s evidence suggesting someone here is using drugs to control and force underage girls into illegal prostitution. Have you heard anything about that?"

As Xu Zhangying spoke, the three men’s faces darkened further. The man on the right exchanged glances with the other two before mumbling, "N-no, haven’t heard anything."

Seeming to realize they’d lost their edge, the tattooed leader turned to press further, only to suddenly meet a pair of pitch-black, well-like eyes. The young Asian man was bent slightly forward, staring unblinkingly straight at him as if seeing through his soul, murmuring, "Really? Are you sure you don’t know any details about the case?"

The tattooed man flinched back, eyeing him warily. Only then did Xu Zhangying straighten up, tilting his head with a smile. "Problem? No idea? Anything else you want to ask me?"

The three men tightened their grips on their guns. Three seconds later, the tattooed leader holstered his weapon and turned to leave. The other two threw him a dirty look before following him hurriedly down the stairs.

Xu Zhangying stood at the stairwell, coldly staring at the empty second floor. After a long pause, he heard a faint *snap*.

He immediately rushed back to the bathroom—only to find the small window wide open, with nothing but a severed silk scarf on the floor.

Xu Zhangying leaned out the window, but outside, only a tall queen palm swayed quietly in the corner. There was no sign of anyone.

"What a clever little brat," the young beta agent chuckled softly.