Its width served just enough to fit three SUVs at once. Even a novice like myself could understand how far funding can take something.

To the demise of commonfolk, politicians seem to always this fact when people demands better services.

Back on topic, we drove in (three at first while two followed at the back).

Graniteware foundation and stainless steel architecture caught me eye.

Everything was well maintained, which was splendid for our peace of mind. As we got out of the car, I felt the cool air of the underground hit my face. It was damp and musty, with echoes of footsteps and distant voices echoing through the tunnels.

I figured these weren't actual voices but rather, whistling of wind against the walls. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and mildew. Harker led the way, his flashlight illuminating the way ahead.

Of course, a few metres away, he flipped the power switch. Lights illuminated the area, and every other electrical appliance began operating.

We walked for quite a while. I began to worry that we were going to delay.

Right then and there, the base became clearly visible.

All sorts of supplies were there and the technology was impressive.

There was a gigantic computer screen patched up on the wall, with the controls on a table perpendicular to it. The other wall featured armour, guns, knives, helmets, and uniforms.

A board at the corner was adorned with all sorts of secret information and plans. I recognized the faces of some criminals spotlighted on it. They were members of a notorious gang, and they had been causing chaos throughout the area.

Harker approached the screen and began to study the information. "Recognize these fellas?"

I nodded in response. "Well, I had some dealings with them, but we had a falling out at some point."

I pointed at one of the pictures. "This one... he seems so innocent to any bystanders, but to me? He was the wildest cart from the bunch."

I didn't have to explain it to them, since they likely already knew. But it was a good line for the conversation to develop. Harker nodded, a small smile on his face. "Yes, he's quite the troublemaker. But we'll deal with him soon enough." He turned back to the screen, scrolling through the information.

"Maruyama... give us insight into their thought process. Knowing that much will be a pivotal factor in deciding our success," Max chimed in.

I nodded, taking in the information on the screen.

"Alright, let's start with their organizational structure. The gang is divided into several different factions, each with their own leaders and factions. The leaders are mostly known by aliases, and they communicate through secret messages and couriers. They have a hierarchy and a set of rules that they follow. Keep this in mind; they have a lot of resources and I wouldn't be surprised if they were involved in the shenanigans at California," I paused.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"You'll need to input all the details I mention into the database. Okay, Agent Oliver?" I called it to the one standing nearest to the controller keyboard.

As for how I knew his name, it was tatted on his left hand. We watched Oliver start typing aggressively.

I started to list the names of the factions, their leaders, their areas of operation, and their methods of communication. The names were long and complicated, but I managed to articulate them all correctly.

As I finished, Harker nodded approvingly.

"This is only the beginning, but this is good info, Maruyama," Agent Blackwell praised.

"Now, let's move on to their weapons and equipment. They have access to all sorts of guns and other weapons. They're not just restricted to firearms, though."

Confusion sparked within me. Was my assistance even necessary?

Despite my doubts, I kept pouring out truths, "It just so happens that they have three dealers who supply them whatever they want for cash. These dealers are all situated in Nigeria, where they can get away with this stuff because nobody investigates them."

I told them the names of the dealers.

Oliver had an annoyed face as he had to type everything. It was almost pitiful, really. He tapped and tapped on the keyboard, but there was still a long wait until the database replied. I began to think that Harker and Blackwell were torturing him with their eyes. The two of them knew it too, since they turned away from him and began discussing among themselves.

...Geez...

I kinda feel sorry for the guy.

With the most odd timing, my stomach growled loudly, capturing everyone's attention.

Oh no... I quickly tried to cover it up, "Sorry, I must have forgotten to eat lunch. Let's continue with the mission." As I spoke, I could feel the tension building between the agents and myself.

Blackwell whispered in Harker's ear for a moment, then turned in my direction. "We got hotdogs... Want some?"

"Yeah, of course."

As I sat down to eat my hotdog, the weight of the mission pressed down on my shoulders pressed on my shoulders like an anvil.

The agents have been treating me with a newfound respect, and I'm eternally grateful for that.

It was addressed to me. I picked it up and read the message:

[ Hi, Maruyama.

I just wanted to say you're welcome here. I know you've done some bad things before, but your deserve to be forgiven in my opinion.

Also, your purple hair is pretty. Can you come to the room next door? It's the one titled 'Dressing Room'.

~I'll be waiting~

—Agent Evelyn Synclair ]

Woah!

This is surprising. I never expected to receive a message from any of the agents, let alone a personal one. I quickly stuffed the note in my pocket and finished up my hotdogs.

After washing my hands in the bathroom, I made sure nobody was looking before I went into the 'Dressing Room'.

I shut the door behind me, and looked at this woman who invited me.

Trying to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, I greeted her, "Hi, Agent Evelyn."

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Word count: 1022