After leaving Unit 14, Adam did not go straight home.

He still had another line to pull.

The company had the push now. Kiri had the file. Kenji and Shinju understood enough to move. That meant Adam’s next work was outside the office again, and the first person he needed to use was Gonda.

Adam changed routes twice, found a telephone booth far from Old Switch Lane, and called him.

Gonda answered after the second ring.

"Send me the details of both gangs," Adam said. "The one willing to come in and the one refusing. Names, leaders, locations, and anything useful."

He did not greet him. He did not explain.

Gonda opened his mouth, but the call ended before he could ask why Wil needed both sides.

For a few seconds he sat in silence with the phone still against his ear.

Then his fingers tightened around it.

This alliance felt wrong.

He had still not seen the man properly. Wil contacted him through lines, messages, or other mouths. Now he was being ordered to hand over local gang details like a clerk. He had accepted the alliance because the meeting massacre, the rumors, and the timing had all pressed him into it. He had accepted it because a future gang war sounded possible, and because refusing might have turned a hidden force against him.

But what had he gained?

His gang had not become stronger. His influence had not doubled. His men did not fear him more than before. Bruno, the man he wanted to crush most, was still inside his own structure, and now Bruno’s position was even harder to touch.

That was the worst part.

If Gonda crushed Bruno now, he would not only be punishing a traitor. He might be cutting the bridge that kept Wil’s organization near him. If he left Bruno alone, every man under him would notice that his old anger had gone quiet. Either choice made him look weaker than he wanted.

He had entered the alliance for the future, not for today. That was what he kept telling himself. If the war Wil warned about was real, then bowing his head for a while could become profit later. But if the warning was false, then Gonda had placed a chain around his own neck for nothing.

Gonda wanted to speak. He wanted to demand something.

The dead line gave him nothing.

A short while later, Adam received Gonda’s message.

It carried the names and locations of two gangs. One was the Harbor Knives, the group that looked ready to come in. The other was the Rust Gate Crew, the one refusing to bend. Gonda had also sent the name of Rust Gate’s leader, Maren Voss, and the address of a warehouse they used near the freight canal.

Adam saved the details and moved to the next matter.

The Harbor Knives could wait. A group that was already willing to talk did not need pressure first. The Rust Gate Crew was different. If their leader refused, then the leader had to become an example or a doorway. Adam did not have the manpower to touch him directly, but he did have a police officer who was already breaking under fear.

He brought out the copied phone belonging to Rovan.

The phone had become more useful than Adam first expected. Every time he pasted it again, newer things appeared. Messages refreshed. Logs shifted. Some files returned as if the copied device was still tied to the original in a way Rovan did not understand.

This time Adam opened the call recordings.

There were many of them. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Rovan had called George again, but George had not answered. He had also called two lower officers, one clerk, and one senior officer saved as Inspector Havel.

The names told Adam enough. Rovan was not moving like a man with one bad secret. He was checking which old door could still open for him. Some calls were short. Some had been cut before anyone spoke. One number had been dialed three times and abandoned each time.

Adam opened that recording.

Rovan’s voice came through low and strained.

"Sir, I am badly trapped. I need your help."

Inspector Havel was quiet for a moment before answering.

"I told you before. If you do work like this, then do it carefully. You thought the uniform would let you do anything?"

"Sir, please listen to me. Someone has proof."

"I cannot help you if you do not even know who your enemy is."

Rovan tried to speak again, but Havel cut him off.

"Find that first. Until then, keep your head down. Do not drag me into your dirt without knowing where it is coming from."

The recording ended soon after.

Adam sat still for a few seconds.

So there were more people inside the police who could become useful later, not only Rovan. A senior officer who knew what kind of work Rovan had done and still spoke like a man managing risk, not like a clean officer hearing a confession.

Adam stored that thought but did not chase it now.

He had a faster use for Rovan.

Still, he listened to the recording once more. Havel had not asked what crime Rovan meant. He had not asked whether someone was dead. He had only asked whether Rovan knew the enemy. That tone mattered. It meant Havel’s first concern was exposure, not justice.

Adam marked Havel’s name in his head for later.

Using the copied phone, he sent Rovan an email from the same account Rovan used every day. He attached the details Gonda had sent: Rust Gate Crew, Maren Voss, the freight canal warehouse, and a few notes about the men around him.

Then Adam left the booth area, walked two streets away, and found another public phone.

At that time, Rovan was inside the department.

He had not slept properly. After the last calls, he had tried to trace the unknown number. The result had made him more uneasy. The calls were coming from telephone booths, and never the same one for long. Whoever was calling him, or the organization behind that voice, was careful.

That was the thought that kept returning.

When the unknown number came again, his hand froze above the desk.

He did not know if it was the same person. Still, every unknown call now felt like a hand closing around his throat.

He answered.

Adam’s voice came through lightly.

"What’s wrong? These days you are ignoring me a lot."

Rovan’s face lost color at once.