During the dinner rush, the lobby of Aurelia Heights suddenly exploded into chaos.

A woman from one of the penthouse duplexes stormed downstairs and blocked my delivery scooter.

“Everyone, come look at how disgusting this delivery guy is!”

With that, she threw a half-spilled bowl of lobster bisque at my feet.

In her other hand, she held up what she claimed was surveillance footage.

The residents walking their dogs and the security guards nearby immediately gathered around.

“No wonder my takeout has been smelling weird lately. So these delivery drivers have been spitting in our food to get back at us?”

“That’s disgusting. Guys like him can’t stand seeing other people doing better than they are. No wonder he’s stuck delivering food for a living.”

“Management really needs to be stricter. People who dress like that could be carrying who knows what. How can you let them into a luxury building like ours?”

The penthouse lady grew even more smug. She pointed right at my nose and snapped, “Young man, there’s nothing wrong with being poor. But at least have some dignity.”

“How much do you even make per delivery? Five dollars? Is that worth throwing away your conscience over? Is this how your parents taught you to behave?”

To curry favor with the residents, the head of security even came at me with a baton, shouting that he was going to drag me to the police station himself.

But the thing was, I had never cared about that five-dollar delivery fee in the first place.

I was the captain of the city's Major Crimes Unit.

The delivery uniform was just a disguise.

I was only here to get close to the high-priority fugitive hiding inside this building.

The penthouse lady’s husband.

Watching the residents around me get worked up and shout for someone to call the police, I clenched my fists hard.

The penthouse lady, Melissa Grant, only looked more pleased when I stayed silent.

She clicked toward me in her heels, pointed at my face, and sneered, “See that? Nothing to say now? That’s what guilty people look like.”

Every instinct in me wanted to take her down on the spot.

But I forced myself to stay still.

I reminded myself that the entire team was counting on me. I could not let my temper ruin the operation.

If I made a move now, the high-priority fugitive hiding in Unit 2801, Victor Grant, Melissa’s husband, would definitely slip away.

We had spent three full months watching this building for this one chance.

“Mrs. Grant, why waste your breath on trash like him?”

Derek Cole, the head of security, was desperate to please her. He shoved me hard.

The force nearly sent me crashing into the pillar beside me.

Truthfully, I could have dodged it.

I could have grabbed his arm and thrown him over my shoulder in the same motion.

I had won the department’s combat tournament three years in a row.

Forget one security guard. I could drop three trained men at close range in under five seconds.

But I couldn’t.

Right now, I was supposed to be a delivery guy who didn’t dare fight back because he needed the five-dollar delivery fee.

Seeing how “weak” I looked, Derek became even more aggressive.

“This is what happens when poor people get bitter! Mrs. Grant’s truffle lobster bisque costs over a hundred dollars. You couldn’t pay her back even if you delivered food for a month!”

“Pay me back?” Melissa folded her arms and laughed coldly. “Can he afford it?”

“People like him aren’t worth as much as my soup.”

Then she looked down at me, smug and cruel.

“I’m not unreasonable. Kneel down, lick it clean, and admit you spit in my food because you hate rich people. Do that, and I’ll let this go.”

“That’s right! Kneel! Lick it clean!”

Several residents, clearly eager to flatter Melissa, joined in.

“Young man, if you did something wrong, own up to it.”

“Mrs. Grant is being generous by not making you pay. You should be thanking her.”

“Exactly. Delivery drivers these days have no manners. Someone needs to teach him a lesson.”

Someone even shoved a phone into my face and started livestreaming.

“Guys, look at this. This is one of those bitter delivery drivers who hates rich people. Got caught red-handed and still wants to play dead.”

I lowered my head and checked the time.

6:28 p.m.

According to our intel, Victor Grant stepped out onto his balcony every night at exactly six-thirty to smoke.

That was our only chance to visually confirm the arrest target.

To make sure the operation went smoothly, I had to endure this.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Grant.”

I gritted my teeth and made my voice sound shaky.

“I really didn’t spit in your food. The road was uneven, so the soup spilled on the way here. But I’m willing to pay for it. Please don’t call the police. I can’t lose this job.”

When Melissa heard me beg, she didn’t back off.

Instead, she laughed as if I had just told the funniest joke in the world.

“Pay for it? With what? Your worthless life?”

She suddenly stepped forward and kicked over my delivery bag.

The other orders inside spilled all over the ground.

“I’m telling you, this isn’t over. I’m not just getting you fired. I’m going to make sure you can’t survive in this city.”

Just then, from the corner of my eye, I saw the curtains on the twenty-eighth floor move.

A figure appeared.

But in the next second, Derek pulled the baton from his belt and stalked toward me with a vicious look on his face.

“Mrs. Grant, why bother talking to a punk like this? Since he won’t kneel, I’ll help him.”

As he spoke, he raised the baton and swung it hard toward my knees.

There was a dull thud.

The baton slammed into the outside of my thigh.

Pain shot through me. I let out a muffled groan and let myself fall to the ground, clutching my leg as I curled up.

In truth, the moment Derek swung the baton, I had instinctively shifted my weight and tightened the muscles in my leg to avoid the bone.

But the hit still hurt.

Seeing me down on the ground, Derek only got more worked up. He pointed the baton at my head and sneered.

“Why are you playing dead? Weren’t you acting tough just now? One hit and you’re already done?”

The residents around us did not show the slightest sympathy.

Instead, they burst into laughter.

“Serves him right. People like him need to be taught a lesson.”

“Good hit, Derek. Trash like this won’t remember unless you beat it into them.”

Melissa walked up to me and frowned in disgust.

“What a mood killer. Derek, drag him out. Don’t let him dirty our building.”

Just as Derek was about to raise the baton again, a low voice came from behind him.

“What’s going on here? Why is it so noisy? You know I like things quiet.”

My heart jolted.

He was here.

Lying on the ground, I saw a pair of polished leather shoes stop in front of me.

Victor Grant.

A high-priority fugitive wanted for multiple deaths and a massive money-laundering case.

To keep him from noticing anything wrong, I quickly adjusted my breathing and made my body tremble slightly.

“Honey.”

Melissa, who had been so arrogant a second ago, immediately threw herself into Victor’s arms and whined.

“You finally came down. This delivery guy bullied me.

“He spilled my soup, then rolled his eyes at me. My heart is still racing.”

Victor glanced at the mess on the ground, then swept his cold gaze over me.

As a veteran detective, I immediately recognized the look in his eyes.

It was killing intent.

A desperate criminal like him would eliminate anything that might draw attention to him.

“All right. It’s not worth making such a scene over.”

Victor sounded impatient as he pulled a thick stack of cash from his pocket.

There had to be more than ten thousand dollars.

He tossed it casually into the air, and the bills scattered down over my face like rain.

“Take the money and get lost.”

His voice was not loud, but it carried a pressure no one dared challenge.

“And don’t ever let me see you in this building again. Otherwise, the next baton won’t just hit your leg. It’ll crack your skull.”

The residents gasped.

“Oh my God. Mr. Grant is so forgiving.”

“A loser like him couldn’t make that much in a year of deliveries. Why isn’t he thanking Mr. Grant already?”

“If I were him, I’d lick the soup off the floor before leaving. That money is way too easy.”

Humiliation burned through me.

But I had to endure it.

I reached out with a trembling hand, pretending to greedily pick up the cash scattered on the ground.

As long as I acted like a coward who would do anything for money, Victor would lower his guard.

The moment he turned around, my team would close in from every direction.

But just as my fingers were about to touch the bills, a leather shoe came down hard on the back of my hand.

“Hold on. You think you can take the money and walk away? That’s too easy.”

Victor pointed at the tiny splash of soup on Melissa’s shoe, his eyes dark and vicious.

“If you’re taking my money, then do the job properly.

“Lick her shoe clean.

“If you miss a spot, I’ll have Derek break one of your fingers.”

Then his voice dropped, cold and sharp.

“What are you waiting for? Lick it.”

Derek was desperate to show off in front of the man he was trying so hard to impress.

He grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face toward the drop of soup on Melissa’s heel.

Some of the onlookers even started whistling.

“Come on, kid. Don’t be stupid. That’s ten grand. What’s one lick?”

“Exactly. If I had that chance, I’d clean the whole shoe.”

“Why act so noble? Delivery guys serve people for a living anyway.”

My face was less than two inches from Melissa’s heel.

All I had to do was open my mouth.

The money would be mine, and I could keep playing the part.

But if I did that, I would be betraying the badge I wore beneath this uniform.

Still, I had no choice.

Because just then, a faint crackle sounded in my earpiece.

That meant my team was blocking the signal on this floor and preparing to move in.

They needed thirty more seconds.

I had to buy them those thirty seconds.

I clenched my jaw, my whole body shaking from humiliation and tension.

To everyone else, it looked like I was trembling in fear.

“What’s wrong?” Victor said, his patience thinning. “Too dirty for you?”

The amusement in his eyes slowly turned cold.

His foot pressed harder over my hand.

Pain shot up my arm, and cold sweat broke out across my back.

“Derek, if he wants to keep his mouth shut, help him open it.”

“Gladly, Mr. Grant.”

Derek raised the baton with a cruel grin and aimed for my face.

But right before he swung, Victor suddenly frowned.

“Wait.”

He crouched down and grabbed the hand he had been stepping on.

Then his gaze locked on the calluses near my thumb and index finger.

The hands of delivery drivers usually bore marks from handlebars and carrying bags.

Mine were different.

Victor’s expression changed at once.

He lifted his head sharply and stared into my eyes.

“You’re a delivery guy?”

His voice dropped.

“Then why do your hands look like that?”

The air around us seemed to go still.

Melissa still hadn’t caught on. She asked sweetly, “Honey, what’s wrong? Who cares what his hands look like? Just make him lick—”

“Shut up, you idiot!”

Victor slapped her aside, then reached behind him and pulled out a gun.

The next second, the cold muzzle was pressed against my forehead.

“So the whole floor has no signal now, huh?”

Victor grinned, his finger tightening slowly.

“I knew something felt off today. Turns out a cop slipped in.”

His eyes bored into mine.

“Talk. How many people are outside?”

“Honey, are you crazy?” Melissa screamed from the floor. “Why are you pulling out some fake gun over a delivery guy?”

Derek swallowed hard and forced out a nervous laugh.

“Mr. Grant, that prop looks pretty real. Scaring him is enough. You don’t want it to accidentally—”

“I said shut up!”

A vein stood out on Victor’s forehead.

“He’s a cop. Didn’t you notice the signal on this whole floor has been jammed?”

The moment he said that, every resident and security guard who had been shouting earlier went pale.

Melissa looked like someone had seized her throat. Her mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

“A cop?” Derek’s knees weakened, and the baton slipped from his hand.

“I thought he was just a delivery guy…”

I slowly straightened up.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and looked at Victor.

“You’re smart, Victor Grant.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“Three years on the run. Your counter-surveillance skills really are impressive.

“But do you know how much work we put in during those three years just to catch you?”

A faint beep sounded in my earpiece.

That was the signal.

Our sniper and tactical team were all in position.

Victor’s hand trembled, but he kept the gun aimed at me.

“Cut the crap! I have hostages. There are dozens of people on this floor. Worst case, we all go down together.”

He yanked Melissa toward him before she could react, swinging the gun between her and me.

“Tell your people to prepare a car and back off five hundred yards!”

“Honey! What are you doing? I’m your wife!” Melissa screamed.

“Shut up!” Victor snapped. “If you hadn’t picked a fight with this delivery guy, would I have been exposed?”

He struck her hard across the face.

“Victor, you think too highly of yourself.”

I stepped forward, meeting the gun head-on.

“You don’t get to negotiate.”

“You want to die?” Victor shouted.

His finger jerked.

A shot rang out.

At the same instant, I moved.

I knocked the gun off-line and jammed his shot before he could fire again.

In the next second, dozens of red laser dots locked onto Victor’s body.

A thunderous command echoed through the lobby.

“Metro SWAT! Drop the weapon!”