Two days later, Tote City Airport.
Goreinu walked out of the airport arrival hall, with Kastro walking to his right, his long white robe particularly eye-catching.
Nico followed behind with a backpack on his shoulders, holding a laptop in his hands.
The three of them hailed a taxi.
Goreinu gave the address, and the driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror, asked no questions, and stepped on the gas.
The Old District wasn't far from the airport, about a twenty-minute drive.
The scenery outside the window gradually changed from tall buildings to low houses, the streets grew narrower, and there was more and more graffiti on the walls.
A few young men were squatting by the roadside smoking, their lazy gazes sweeping over the passing vehicles.
The taxi stopped in front of a small three-story building.
Most of the plaster on the building's exterior walls had peeled off, revealing the dark red bricks underneath.
Thick dust had accumulated on the windows, making it impossible to see inside from the outside.
The door was made of sheet metal, the paint was peeling, and the edges were rusty.
Goreinu glanced at the side of the door—an inconspicuous mark was drawn in chalk at the corner: three short horizontal lines and one long horizontal line.
It matched.
He stepped forward and knocked on the iron door four times.
Two short, one long, one short.
It was quiet inside for a few seconds, then two whistles were heard.
The first was short, the second was long.
Goreinu turned back and nodded to Kastro and Nico.
"No problem, it's safe."
He pushed open the door.
The door hinges let out a dry creak. Inside was a narrow corridor with dim lighting, a concrete floor, and pale green paint on the walls that was already peeling off.
Standing at the end of the corridor was a man—it was Dean.
He wore a dark jacket, looking like a completely different person from the suit-and-tie appearance he had at the Farm.
Seeing Goreinu's group of three, he quickly stepped forward to meet them, bowing his head slightly.
"Hello, I'm Dean. Thank you for your hard work, everyone."
His voice was kept very low, and his gaze quickly swept behind the three to confirm no one was following.
"Leader Vivian sent me to meet you."
He stepped aside to lead the three inside, through the corridor and into a room of about twenty square meters.
The windows were covered by thick curtains, and only a desk lamp was on, casting a dim, yellowish light.
A long table, a few folding chairs, and a map of the Old District was pasted on the wall, its corners already curling up.
"There's really no other way this time; we can only meet in a place like this."
Dean pulled the curtain open a crack, took a look outside, and closed it again.
"The enemy has come prepared, so we have to keep a low profile."
Goreinu sat down at the table and placed the bag in his hand on the floor.
"Mm."
He pointed to the two people beside him.
"I'm Goreinu. These are my partners—Kastro and Nico."
Dean nodded to the two of them in greeting.
"Thank you three for coming all this way. Leader Vivian has instructed that you should feel free to mention any needs you may have."
He pulled a kraft paper envelope from his jacket's inner pocket, sealed with wax and stamped with the Colton Family's mark. He pushed the envelope toward Goreinu.
"The information on the Carlson Gang's stronghold in Qilulu City, retreat routes, safe houses, and weapons and equipment are all ready."
Dean pointed to several large boxes in the corner.
Goreinu tore open the envelope and poured out the contents.
A few photos, several specially marked maps, and a stack of documents held together by paper clips.
The photos showed a dusty Port Warehouse Area with rusted sheet metal roofs and barbed wire along the perimeter walls.
In one of the photos, two men could be seen standing at the entrance smoking, with bulges around their waists.
The maps marked three retreat routes in different colors, with potential interception points and backup plans noted on each.
The safe house was located in a residential area, about a fifteen-minute drive from the port.
Goreinu looked through everything carefully, put them away, and looked up at Dean.
"Understood. Just prepare an inconspicuous car for us. We'll handle the rest."
Dean nodded without asking further questions.
"Alright. Then I won't disturb you three any longer."
He turned and left, his footsteps quickly disappearing at the end of the corridor.
The sound of the door closing was very soft, and the room returned to silence.
The light from the desk lamp cast a small circle of warm yellow glow on the wall; the curtains remained motionless, completely sealing off the outside world.
Kastro walked around the room, glanced into the bathroom, and checked the window latches.
He walked back to the table and sat down, his voice low.
"It seems the Colton Family's situation is indeed difficult. They're even being this cautious just to meet."
Nico had already opened his computer, the blue light from the screen appearing somewhat piercing in the dim room.
His fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, pulling up several maps and satellite photos to compare them one by one with the materials in Goreinu's hands.
"It's better to be careful."
His eyes didn't leave the screen, and his fingers kept typing.
"Meeting in a place like this is the right call. That way, we can resolve this commission while ensuring our safety."
Goreinu spread the materials on the table, lining up the three maps side by side.
He had looked at the terrain of Qilulu City online before, but those satellite photos were nowhere near as detailed as the maps Dean had brought.
Every passage in the port, every entrance and exit of the warehouse area, and even the security guards' shift change times were clearly marked.
He picked up a photo of a core member of the Carlson Family, looked at it for a moment, and set it down.
"Nico, can you find the current location of the Carlson Family's leader?"
Nico's fingers paused for a moment. He pulled up several pages, browsed them quickly, and closed them again.
"No. He's hiding well. He hasn't shown his face since attending an event at one of his hotels half a month ago."
He paused and enlarged several photos.
"I bet he's hiding in a safe house and giving orders remotely. All operations these days have been relayed through his subordinates; he doesn't even make phone calls himself."
Goreinu nodded while stroking his chin.
"That's normal. He's surely worried about retaliation from the Colton Family, especially after the Douglas Gang just ambushed the Lancaster Family and killed their leader."
Kastro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking at the pile of materials on the table.
After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Then we'll force him out."
Goreinu and Nico both looked at him at the same time.
Kastro raised his hand, his fingertip pointing to a smuggling route map.
The red line started from the port, passed through three checkpoints, and finally disappeared into the mountains.
"Check the locations of his smuggling channels. If we take down all their smuggling routes, he'll have to come out whether he wants to or not."
Nico's eyes lit up.
"Right. Smuggling is Carlson's lifeblood; he can't just sit idly by."
He was already typing on the keyboard.
"I've checked; Carlson controls seventy percent of the smuggling routes in Qilulu City."
"If something goes wrong with these routes, Victor Carlson will definitely step in to handle it personally."
Goreinu looked at the maps and photos on the table, and his mind began to outline the entire operation.
First, take out one route and see the reaction.
If the other party sends someone to handle it, we'll follow the trail.
If they don't handle it, we'll keep hitting them until they can't sit still anymore.
"Good."
He said.
"First, determine the target. Find the most critical route and hit them hard all at once."
Nico's typing grew even faster.
Shipping records, port logs, and surveillance screenshots flashed across the screen one after another.
He controlled the touchpad, dragging useful information into a newly created folder.
"Give me a bit of time."
He didn't even look up.
"Before dark, I'll be able to find their most valuable route."
Goreinu stood up, walked to the window, and pulled the curtain open a crack.
Outside, the sky was gradually darkening. There was no one on the street, only a distant streetlight was on, casting a small patch of pale light on the damp ground.
He closed the curtain and turned to look at Kastro and Nico.
Kastro sat there, as quiet as a stone. The blue light from Nico's screen reflected on his face; his expression was focused, and his fingers never stopped.
There was the sound of a car passing outside, the engine noise approaching from afar and then gradually fading away.
Only the soft sound of typing and the steady breathing of the three people remained in the room.
Goreinu walked back to the table and sat down, flipping through the materials Dean had left once more.
This time he looked more slowly, going over every number, every route, and every name in his mind.
The situation in Qilulu City was more complicated than he had anticipated, but not so complex that it couldn't be handled.
The key was to be fast—to finish what needed to be done before the other side could react.
Nico suddenly hit the Enter key, the sound particularly loud in the quiet room.
"Found it."
He turned the screen toward Goreinu.
On the screen was a satellite photo marking a route from the Qilulu port to the inland mountains.
Next to the route, checkpoint locations, vehicle swap points, and even the names of the person in charge of each node were densely marked.
"This is Carlson's most valuable route. It carries munitions and rare metals, with at least five billion passing through each month."
Nico pointed at the screen, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"If this route is cut, Victor Carlson will be more anxious than if his own mother had died."
Goreinu looked at the winding red line on the screen, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.
"Then this one."
He said.
"We move tomorrow."
Meanwhile, Leo was working hard to wipe out various wanted criminals and striving to increase his Rank.