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"What? Have these idiots lost their minds?" The police chief felt frustrated as his anger boiled up, causing him to glance back and pull down the window of his car, yelling, "Bastards, do you even know who I am?"

The moment he opened the window and yelled, a small ball-like object leapt into the back of the car, prompting his eyes to turn toward it. He realized it was a grenade, instantly causing him to open the door and leap out of the car.

BOOM!

Within seconds of his jump outside the car, as his body rolled on the ground, he sustained injuries all over, acquiring fractures in his hand and abrasions due to the speed of the car. Suddenly, the whole car blasted apart, tearing into pieces due to the explosion.

"Kugh!?—Damn it!" Due to his chubby body and excess fat, the skin tore, and bleeding began at several places as he tried to lift himself. But the cars that were following him suddenly struck him.

"Khuek!" His body was hit by a car, throwing him onto the asphalt and hitting his head as he tried to roll out of the way in hopes of survival. Three bikers came in behind the cars, starting to move in a circle around the police chief.

"St-stop," he stammered, lying bloodied on the asphalt, hardly visible in the pool of blood where he lay. His body had several injuries, fractures, and internal bleeding. His face was completely drenched in blood as he tried to stretch his hands toward the bikers who were moving around him.

Due to the highway being near an area that would have normally been busy, it appeared suspicious how there were no other vehicles in this part of the highway, most appearing as if the road was blocked from both sides. He moved his hands toward his pocket where his gun was placed.

Bang!

"Aaargh!" But even before he could pull out his gun, a baseball bat landed directly on his face, throwing him a distance away due to the sheer force as he was thrown out of the circle the bikes were moving in, as the bikes halted before once again moving toward him.

"N-no!" He didn\'t understand why this was happening to him. Considering he was the police chief, it was confusing that, when being the head of the department, he was being attacked in broad daylight on a busy highway.

Vrooooom

Bang!

"Khuck! Aghh! —cough!"

With another engine roar, the biker moved beside him, holding a rod that landed directly on his face, throwing him off the ground as he once again splattered a mouthful of blood directly on the ground, feeling his consciousness finally slipping away as his eyes succumbed to darkness.

"What to do with him now?" Finally, the bikes stopped as one of them inquired, glancing in the direction of the black cars from which a few men wearing black coats came out and moved toward the unconscious man.

"Hm, check his phone and see if someone was behind him," a bald man with scars on his face said as he halted. Another one provided him a cigarette, and after taking it and lighting it, he inhaled before blowing out some smoke. He glanced in the direction of the road and added, "Wash the blood marks and bring him to our place. Let\'s see which bastard tried to mess with our young miss."

Currently distanced from the highway where the recent events took place, an empty paint factory lies in a remote region, situated seven miles away from the rural parts of Camphrian city.

The abandoned factory was in complete disarray given its abandonment caused a decade ago, making it filled with rust and weak walls, evident from the door which had been broken by someone present inside the warehouse.

"And this goes here," Damien connected the last wire as he started to roll out while exiting the door. He attached the battery to cover the stopwatch before opening it and doing something with it before he started the timer for 4 minutes.

"Let\'s see, they must be arriving," Damien said, resting his hands in his pockets while using his shoes to dust over the wires to hide them on the ground. He glanced toward the empty barren land where four cars came into view as they approached the abandoned factory.

Soon enough, both cars hurling in his direction finally came to a halt as several individuals came out of them, revealing their identity: the four police officers and the five reporters, who were the ones Damien had promised or assured to complete some tasks for him.

"Sir Damien, how are you?" Leaving them behind, the first one to move forward was one of the police officers, wearing his uniform as his service revolver hung from his fist as he moved forward with a smile, clearly betraying his inner hatred and evil.

"Well, for now, it\'s good, I guess," Damien kept a small smile, looking toward all of them clearly, observing their facial expressions as some of them averted their gaze while some of them tried to hide their inward anger, as if, if given a chance, they would instantly kill him for lying to them.

"I see, well then, where is the money?" the officer inquired as his face turned expressionless, looking coldly toward Damien, who, seeing this, felt amused before nodding as he stepped aside and gestured for them to enter.

"Ladies first," Damien offered a place for the woman reporter to move, who slightly looked toward her colleague who initially found it suspicious, but then ignored it, knowing well about Damien\'s trashy personality, as they accepted it.

"No, you will move first," the officer who stood just nearby directly took out his revolver and pointed it toward Damien, not caring a bit after realizing that this man had no background support now.

"What is the meaning of this?" Damien\'s gaze turned cold as he feigned surprise, his eyes widening at the sight of the revolver.