Chapter 3

Dinner ended late at night, and Jefferson had to drive Willie to his house first, so he got home about one in the morning.

But Jefferson left for the office at precisely seven in the morning with giant eye bags and a dark gaze as if a cloud of mist had covered his face.

Willie still resting in his house, Howard and Malvin were assigned somewhere, and Jefferson passed them as they walked out of the office. They didn't see Jefferson because they were so busy getting ready, and Jefferson didn't greet them even though he saw them. This was an incredible opportunity to get away from those two nosy people; they always had time to make fun of Jefferson, no matter how busy they were.

It seemed, today, he could work without any disturbance by anyone. And it's a good thing, though. 

But just as he turned on his laptop, Tom walked over to his desk. Mr. Tucker wanted him to go to his room whenever he had free time; he said there was something he wanted to talk about, but it was not urgent. 

Jefferson laughed. Everyone in the office knew about him, who often kept himself busy reading old cases when he wasn't working. Everyone knows Jefferson is always busy, which is why Mr. Tucker said when he had free time; it was a joke, even though it's not that funny.

Jefferson stepped confidently, in contrast to his timid stride yesterday. Jefferson smiled as soon as he entered his room and raised his chin. Mr. Tucker was standing with his back, looking outside through a window. 

Mr. Tucker glanced over his shoulder, then sat down in his chair and made a hand gesture to motion Jefferson to sit down.

"Good Morning, Mr. Tucker."

He didn't answer Jefferson's greeting; he seemed to be busy with his laptop—actually, he was confused about how to use it, so it took longer to open a file—and made Jefferson pause while waiting for him to finish.

Now that the laptop screen turned toward him, there was a photo of two men. The shorter one is smiling and waving at the camera, wearing a bright red coat. While the other was wearing a black suit, he was the darkest night Jefferson had ever seen, with a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and an intense look in his eye. He looks like he hates everyone.

Anyone who sees this photo will immediately look at the man in the red coat, but seconds later, once they notice the presence of the man in the black suit, they will be amazed by his mysterious charisma. 

"You know who they are, don't you?"

It was again a joke from Mr. Tucker; there's no way he doesn't know them. Even if they were wearing masks, Jefferson could immediately recognize them just from the look in their eyes. This is because they have different looks from the average person, something people didn't expect. 

They are the two mafia brothers, Homer and Hugo.

Jefferson nodded his head. "I read their case file a few months ago. One of them, Hugo, also often appears on television shows."

Mr. Tucker seemed satisfied with Jefferson's answer as if he knew Jefferson would not disappoint him.

"Did you hear about their father's death?"

Jefferson blinked, his back straight up; he looked as if he had just woken up. He shook his head.

"The news was not broadcast to the public. It seems they also pressured the press not to report it. I only found out after the police spies in their mansion were suddenly fired."

The story starts to get interesting from here, like a drama movie that Jefferson usually watches on the weekends.

Mr. Tucker continued his story that their father, Mr. Emerson, died in his peaceful sleep. He died because he was old, and nothing unusual was found on the scene. It was as if he had gone carried by silk cloth.

The funeral ceremony was private, inviting only the closest family, without the press and the public spotlight. Maybe they wanted to have a private and uninterrupted funeral. The lack of his funeral news made some people think he was still alive. Even those who know about his death consider that his death was a good thing. 

When Mr. Emerson ran his business, the police spies and his enemies even managed to become one of his right-hand men; they managed to hinder the movement of his business, especially drug trafficking. But even so, Mr. Emerson is still hard to catch, and no one is ever really able to stop him.

And now the business is occupied by two sons of the foolish king. Even the police had the same opinion; Mr. Tucker sent another spy again with great enthusiasm. They believed that they could destroy his business forever. 

But everything changed. In just one week, everything turned into a nightmare; the two sons of the stupid king began to show their true selves, something no one expected.

The police suddenly couldn't reach ten of their members. The ten people seemed to disappear as if they had never been born into this world. Until today, no one knows what happened or where the ten people are.

But everyone seemed to make an unspoken agreement; they were sure they were dead. At that time, they did not want to admit it and continued to carry out the mission according to their plan.

One week later, six people had disappeared. Everyone panicked, and they started to be alert, taking care of each other. They stick to the plan; losing these sixteen people doesn't seem like a serious threat to the police.

In just fifteen days, another six police officers had disappeared. They decided to cancel the mission after interrogating one of their former bodyguards, who happened to be spies from another mafia group. From his statement, the two brothers were 'cleaning up' and killing people who were proven to be spies.

The police had to accept this harsh reality, losing twenty-two personnel before they could even see the two brothers.

The king is not raising a human; he is raising a demon. Said the former bodyguard before he was thrown into prison.

And only with his statement, all the officers agree that the twenty-two cops who were missing would never return. They were never able to get any evidence and found a dead end while Hugo appeared in public as a successful young entrepreneur after continuing his father's legal business.

Jefferson held his breath as he listened to his story; he was starting to get nervous, thinking about why Mr. Tucker invited him into his room to hear all of that. Surely he'd get Jefferson to do something about that two mafia brothers.

He turned the laptop screen back to face him, then he focused on his laptop again—like a minute ago, he was confused about how to use it and ended up taking a long time just to do easy work. But he was a stubborn man, wanting to do everything himself even if it would be a waste of time—while Jefferson could only wait.

Moments later, Mr. Tucker looked at Jefferson and smiled. "I've already sent a copy of the file to your email. Read it carefully, and tomorrow, find some information about the two brothers in their market."

Jefferson nodded, then Mr. Tucker continued his story. It turns out that there are more worrying things besides those who killed the twenty-two police officer, although there is no evidence yet.

Their drug and casino business is increasing; Mr. Tucker heard they had just opened a new casino, teamed up with dealers from other countries, and other terrifying rumors. 

Without thinking, Jefferson accepted the task Mr. Tucker gave to him. 

"Oh yeah, don't forget to meet the other spies; they usually hang out at a coffee shop inside the market, The Coffee Cup."

Jefferson ignored Mr. Tucker; he's been busy with his thoughts. After all, Mr. Tucker spoke when Jefferson was about to close the door; why would he have to open it again just to nod his head? Even if he didn't tell him, Jefferson would still go to see them. Information about where they usually hang out is written in the file.

Even though what was in the file was unpleasant, he kept reading it. He even ignored Howard and Malvin when they took Jefferson out to lunch after returning to the office. He's too busy reading the file; he'll eat it later. After all, he won't die just because he missed lunch once.

Jefferson even imagined, if he could get some important information or even arrest them —though it's impossible considering how they still live comfortably in the mansion after all those crimes— his career would immediately skyrocket, and all praise would go his way.

You should have big dreams that scare you to be successful, and for Jefferson, the big dreams that scare him are those two mafia brothers.

"Homer and Hugo."

On his laptop screen, there is a photo of them. Even though it was a different photo, Hugo still smiled brightly at the camera, showing his row of teeth and sunken eyes. Meanwhile, Homer's older brother still has a cold, flat face.

Hugo has social media, while Homer, as everyone can guess, he doesn't have social media.

All of Homer's photos on the internet are photos taken from Hugo's social media pages. It makes the impression that he is mysterious and difficult to contact. And out there, many people like him because of his mysterious charisma. 

Hugo also has the same unreachable impression as his brother, even though he often posts his photos on social media and often goes to many television shows. But other than that, many liked him because he was friendly and humorous. As if he was the perfect choice to be a friend.

If Jefferson was an ordinary citizen who didn't know what they were doing behind the eyes of the public, he would probably admire one of them.

Maybe he would have admired Hugo for his friendly character. Because for Jefferson, he would not have noticed Homer's presence in the photos because his eyes turned straight to Hugo as if sucked in by the charm of his smile.

Jefferson sighed; he felt lucky to know all those horrible facts.

That day, Jefferson decided to go home early. This surprised Howard and Malvin, but they immediately concluded that Jefferson must have just come up with a case. Their predictions would prove correct the next day when Jefferson was nowhere to be seen in the office.