Fourth floor of the apartment building, inside Room 4B.
FBI Agent Lamb felt like he had just fallen asleep when someone woke him up.
"Hey!"
"Lamb, the target is leaving."
Lamb felt his body being shaken continuously. He opened his eyes.
His large, dim eyes were filled with dissatisfaction and exhaustion.
"Harry, what time is it..."
Yawning, Lamb struggled to stand up from the bed.
He exchanged glances with his partner, Harry, who looked equally exhausted with bloodshot eyes, then looked at the surveillance equipment nearby.
On the screen, an Asian youth who had finished changing clothes was walking toward a blind spot of the surveillance camera.
Soon, he disappeared from the monitor for a long time.
Lamb immediately realized that Hunter Sun—the Asian youth the FBI had ordered them to monitor recently—was going out.
He hurriedly glanced at the time and couldn't help but curse, "Damn it, it's not even seven o'clock yet. Is this guy a monster in human skin?"
Last night, Lamb and his partner Harry were together.
In this temporarily rented apartment, they had witnessed with their own eyes the Chinese-American youth they were monitoring, Hunter Sun.
Last night, he had fooled around with the beautiful neighbor lady, tossing and turning from after 9 PM until nearly 1 AM before stopping.
When it ended, the beautiful and kind-hearted neighbor lady had to rest for over half an hour.
Only then did she leave slowly, trembling and supporting herself against the wall.
Under their surveillance, Hunter Sun displayed monster-like stamina.
The immense strength he showed while easily lifting her into various positions...
And the "size" inadvertently revealed...
It made both FBI agents feel hot and bothered while watching, but also gave rise to a complex mix of inferiority, envy, and jealousy.
Especially since they knew this "Hunter Sun" was only eighteen years old.
While amazed, their suspicion of him deepened.
After all, everything Hunter showed...
Although there didn't seem to be anything overtly suspicious, he was an orphan whose parents had died.
Hunter didn't work, yet he had plenty of money to join various clubs and learn all sorts of things.
No matter how you looked at it, there was something fishy.
And now, this youth who had only turned off the lights to sleep at 1 or 2 AM last night...
Was up after just a few hours of sleep, full of energy.
It looked like he was ready to go out.
In an instant, the exhausted Lamb looked at the equally tired Harry.
As the two FBI agents looked at each other, they saw the weariness and helplessness in each other's eyes.
"What a monster!"
Harry yawned and smiled bitterly at Lamb. "Lamb, I'll notify the bureau to arrange a tail team."
"Before they take over, you follow him first."
"I haven't slept a wink on my shift. If I make a mistake while tracking him, it'll be bad."
"Yeah!"
Although Lamb was also very tired, at least he had rested for a bit.
He nodded helplessly, got up, and threw on some clothes.
A moment later, after the external surveillance camera showed Hunter walking out of the apartment building...
Lamb immediately determined the direction and followed.
Neither of them knew that at this very moment, on the sixth floor of the apartment building...
At the door of Mathilda's home, a seemingly ordinary sticky note...
Was slid into the room through the gap under the door.
Over an hour later, Mathilda's home began to get noisy.
Michael (Mathilda's father) yawned and glanced at his wife, Margie, who was still fast asleep in bed.
He gently kissed his wife on the cheek.
Then, without disturbing her, he got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom.
Michael knew his wife Margie worked as a hostess at a nightclub.
He even knew that Margie was often taken out by rich clients to party until the early hours of the morning.
That was how he met his wife back in the day.
Michael also knew that if he hadn't made a fortune through theft back then...
A great beauty like Margie, even just a nightclub hostess, wouldn't have ended up with him.
So over the years, Michael had turned a blind eye to his wife staying out all night.
Just as he often fooled around outside for various reasons, sometimes not coming home for days, and Margie never asked him why.
This was the reason the couple had lasted this long without divorcing.
He walked quickly to the bathroom. Seeing the door closed and hearing water and singing from inside...
Michael knew it was Margie's eldest daughter, Liv (Mathilda's half-sister).
Liv wasn't related to him by blood, but Michael only dared to have slight thoughts about her, never daring to put them into practice.
Because Michael knew Liv was his wife Margie's bottom line.
"Liv, hurry up, Daddy needs to use the toilet."
Michael knocked on the door and shouted a reminder.
He knew that because of his wife's spoiling, Liv was not only vulgar but also vain and spent money lavishly.
When she took a morning shower, it wouldn't end in less than half an hour.
So, Michael had to remind her.
"Wait a bit longer, old man!"
Liv's dissatisfied voice came from the bathroom. "I just started washing."
Michael's face immediately showed displeasure.
He had hidden the drugs that the corrupt cop Stansfield had stashed in his house inside the bathroom.
Every day after waking up, Michael had to check them to prevent any problems.
He was about to knock again to urge Liv to finish quickly.
Suddenly, Michael's gaze inadvertently swept across the floor near the door not far away. There seemed to be a piece of paper on the ground.
Subconsciously, he walked over, bent down to pick it up, and looked at it. His face changed drastically.
The seemingly ordinary sticky note, once unfolded, revealed a few short lines of words.
"Idiot, you are being watched."
"There is surveillance near the apartment entrance. Go notify the owner of that shipment immediately."
After reading the words clearly, Michael broke out in a cold sweat.
Others might not know, but he knew perfectly well.
Right now, his home was storing a full ten kilograms of drugs for Stansfield, a corrupt DEA agent who stole from his own busts.
Once someone had eyes on those drugs, or if they were lost...
His end wouldn't be pretty.
In an instant, Michael felt as if all strength had left his body.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly slid down to sit weakly on the floor.
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