Chapter II

As Matthew walked towards the prison’s main gate, he spotted a guard standing watch, barely five meters ahead. He glanced up at the sky, feeling the fresh air from the nearby trees brush his face, a small but tangible taste of freedom. The sense of liberation began to settle in—a freedom from the damp, oppressive cells, the stale odor of confinement, and the abuse, both from the guards and fellow inmates. He was finally breaking away from the system that had held him captive for so long.

Reaching the gate, he watched as it swung open. With deliberate steps, Matthew crossed over the threshold and immediately noticed a sleek black car with tinted windows parked just outside. The license plate confirmed his suspicion—it was a government vehicle. As he approached, the window lowered, revealing a striking woman with dark, curly hair and sunglasses perched on her nose.

"Matthew!" she called out, pulling off her shades with a smile.

"Miss Melissa," he responded, trying his best to sound cordial.

"Get in. I’m here to pick you up."

Swallowing nervously, Matthew approached the back door, opened it, and slid inside.

“How are you?” Melissa asked once the driver pulled away.

“I’m fine. And you?” Matthew replied, his gaze fixed on the passing landscape.

“Same here. So, are you ready for this, or do you miss prison already?” Melissa’s voice held a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m ready,” he said, determined.

“Good.”

As the car drove on, Matthew's thoughts drifted to the events that led to his early release. After multiple discussions between his lawyer, Melissa Grunfeld, and the prosecutor’s office, he had managed to secure probation for good behavior. Melissa’s legal maneuvering had spared him from serving the full sentence, but it came with strings attached—his freedom depended on his cooperation in a police operation aimed at taking down his former boss, Middlesbrough’s mafia kingpin, Mr. K. If he succeeded, not only would his release become permanent, but his criminal record would also be wiped clean. There really hadn’t been much of a choice.

Matthew exhaled softly.

“What’s on your mind?” Melissa asked, noticing the shift in his mood.

“Nothing... Just taking it all in.”

“Hard to believe you’re finally out, huh?”

“I believe it,” he replied, eyes still glued to the window. The desolation of the prison was behind him now, and the urban skyline had started to appear. Shops, houses, and people replaced the endless sea of men in gray uniforms. Civilization, at last.

“Let’s hope you keep yourself out of trouble this time,” Melissa said lightly.

“I plan to,” Matthew responded, his tone steady. “I’ll do whatever it takes to earn my full freedom.”

After another fifteen minutes, they arrived at their destination—the police station. Melissa brought the car to a stop.

“Well, here we are,” Melissa said energetically, hopping out of the car.

Matthew silently followed suit.

“Shall we?” Melissa asked as he closed the car door behind her.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit!” Melissa strode ahead, her purse, briefcase, and hair bouncing as she moved, effortlessly catching the attention of everyone they passed. Matthew walked behind her, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Inside, they entered a small reception area. Matthew’s eyes briefly scanned the room, noting the handcuffed young men sitting along the far wall, but he quickly dismissed the scene, trailing behind Melissa as she headed upstairs.

At the top, she gently pushed open a door.

“Hello!” she chimed, poking her head inside, catching the attention of two men seated at a table. Both men turned toward her.

“May I come in?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course,” one of the men, clearly the boss, replied. He turned to the other, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Sure, boss,” the second man said, rising from his chair and excusing himself.

Melissa stepped inside, followed closely by Matthew.

“Take a seat,” the boss said, gesturing to a chair.

Melissa smiled, gesturing for Matthew to sit beside her. “Matthew, have a seat.”

“Thanks,” Matthew said, sitting down.

The boss called out, “Hey, Hector!”

“Yes, boss?” came a voice from the doorway.

“Get Masahiro in here. His new trainee has arrived.”

“Yes, boss.”

With that, Hector left, leaving the three alone. Matthew sized up the man in front of him—a middle-aged Caucasian, with a white shirt, detective’s badge hanging around his neck, and a wristwatch on his wrist.

“So, Ms...?” the boss hesitated, trying to recall her name.

“Grunfeld. Melissa Grunfeld,” she said smoothly.

“Right. I’m David Jones, head of the drug trafficking division.”

Melissa nodded. “I’m here regarding the cooperation agreement the prosecutor’s office extended to my client,” she said, pulling a document from her briefcase.

“Of course,” David replied. “I’ve been briefed. That’s why I had Agent Masahiro called in. Your client will be working under his supervision,” he said, scanning his desk. “Now, where did I put that cooperation agreement?”

“Isn’t it that paper?” Melissa asked, subtly motioning toward a stack on the corner of the desk.

David’s eyes followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. You’ve got a sharp eye,” he said, pulling the paper from the stack.

“Thank you. I’ve reviewed that document many times before,” Melissa replied with a polite smile.

David turned to Matthew. “Here’s the agreement. You know what’s expected of you, right?”

Matthew nodded, glancing at the paper. “Yeah, I’m supposed to help take down the mafia boss in exchange for my full release, correct?”

“Exactly. You’ll be providing intel and assisting as needed.”

Matthew focused on the document as David continued.

“You don’t have a permanent residence, correct?”

“That’s right,” Matthew confirmed.

“Well, until you’re fully cleared, you’ll be under a guardian’s supervision. We’ve assigned one of our agents, who should be here any minute,” David said, glancing at his watch. “Don’t worry about your expenses—the prosecutor’s office will handle that with a monthly stipend.”

Matthew nodded as he continued reading.

“No questions?” David asked.

“No,” Matthew replied. “I’ll read the rest later.”

“Good. Make sure to sign it. It needs to be signed by your lawyer, me, the prosecutor, and your assigned guardian.”

Just then, the door opened.

“Boss!” called a man as he stepped inside.

“Speak of the devil,” David said with a grin.

The man laughed lightly. “I hear my new trainee has arrived.”

David pointed to Matthew. “That’s him.”

Matthew turned, and his eyes widened in surprise. Standing before him was Agent Masahiro Payne, the last person he expected to see, not that day or at that moment.

Masahiro’s expression hardened as recognition flickered across his face.

“What’s he doing here?” Masahiro asked, glaring at David.

“This is the guy who got out on probation, your new pupil.”

Matthew and Masahiro locked eyes, both thinking the same thing.

´Him? My guardian?´ Matthew wondered.

´Him? My trainee?´ Masahiro mused.