Hearing the squad leader's words, Byrne was so incensed he wanted to drag Keith out himself and hand him over right then and there.
Was he joking? This was not "a little bit of trouble."
The so-called Governor was nominally an official appointed by the Empire to manage the worlds under his jurisdiction, but in reality, he was a local warlord—a petty emperor ruling his own slice of space.
During their first meeting, Byrne had taken Keith for a simple space pirate. Only now did he realize the man was a member of the Rebel Army who had the audacity to attempt a solo assassination of the Governor. Byrne's current mood was more unpleasant than eating a pickled cucumber that had been stepped on by flies.
Faced with this situation, Byrne could only lie and claim he hadn't seen Keith, hoping to bluff his way through.
"Heavens, this man is far too bold—assassinating the Lord Governor! That assassin must be brought to justice as soon as possible."
Having said his piece, Byrne moved to close the door. However, before it could shut, the squad leader's armored boot blocked the frame.
"Don't be in such a hurry to close up, Boss. That assassin is cunning. For all we know, he's already slipped into your shop to hide."
The leader's gaze shifted, scanning the shop behind Byrne, before he added: "According to the Imperial Lex, every Imperial citizen has the duty to cooperate with a search. I suggest you comply and avoid making trouble for yourself."
Tch, looks like there's no dodging this.
Seeing the situation, Byrne had no choice but to push the door open again. "Cooperate? Of course, I'll cooperate. Please, come in, Officer."
Though he spoke submissively, his heart was pounding. After all, the leader was right—the assassin he was hunting was indeed hiding in the shop. Byrne could only hope they were just going through the motions and wouldn't search too thoroughly.
Seeing Byrne step aside, the squad leader smirked and gave a wave of his hand.
"Group one, stay on the perimeter and maintain a lookout. Group two, follow me inside for a detailed sweep. Don't miss a single corner."
"Yes, Captain!"
At the command, the four men of group two filed in, their steel boots thudding rhythmically against the floorboards. Upon entering, they fanned out and began their search.
The squad leader didn't join them. Instead, he stood by Byrne, striking up a conversation to pass the time and potentially fish for information.
"Boss, your shop doesn't look like much from the outside, but you've got quite a lot of stock in here."
Byrne gave a dry laugh and waved it off. "It's nothing, really. Just old junk. It felt like a waste to toss it, so I just kept it all."
Despite his calm exterior, Byrne was panicking internally. As he spoke, he stole occasional glances toward the storage room.
A few minutes ago, Byrne had shoved Keith in there. Located just inside the stairwell, the storage room was crammed with various mechanical creations and spare parts—a perfect hiding spot. However, it was small, and it wouldn't stand up to a rigorous inspection. Byrne prayed the enforcers would be careless and overlook the door.
Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.
Shortly after, an enforcer near the stairs pushed aside a few wooden crates blocking his view and spotted the iron door.
"Captain, there's a concealed door here."
Seeing the storage room discovered, Byrne immediately spoke up: "Officer, that's just my storage closet. It's a mess in there, full of machinery and parts. There's no room for a person to hide."
"Heh, we'll be the judge of that." The squad leader sneered and barked at his subordinate, "Open it up. Let's see."
The enforcer moved to open the door. Byrne's palms were sweating as he scrambled for something to say to stall for time. Just then, a sharp clack echoed from inside the storage room.
The sound instantly drew every eye in the room. The squad leader's face darkened as he drew his pistol, looking as if he were facing a dire threat.
But before the enforcer could touch the handle, the iron door creaked open on its own. A man in grease-stained coveralls stepped out, clutching a heavy wrench. Seeing the squad of enforcers, he scratched his head with a look of utter confusion.
"Oh, do we have customers? I was just in the back working on an old machine and accidentally knocked a part over. Hope I didn't disturb you lot."
The man in the coveralls was, of course, Keith in disguise.
The squad leader scrutinized him closely. Seeing that the man's face didn't match the holographic portrait, he holstered his weapon and turned to Byrne. "Who is he?"
Heh, with acting skills like that, Keith is wasted as a rebel.
Byrne suppressed the thought and explained, "Oh, him? He's the help I hired."
"The help?" The squad leader walked slowly toward Keith. "Produce your ID card."
"Oh, right. Sure thing." Keith fumbled in the pocket of his coveralls and pulled out a slightly worn ID card.
The leader took the card and ran it through a portable scanner. A second later, a string of data appeared on the screen:
Name: Connie
Age: 29
Birthplace: 67th Street, Lower District, Blackstone City
Occupation: Mechanic
Criminal Record: None
"Identity checks out." The leader returned the card but questioned him further, "What kind of machine were you fixing in there that took so long?"
Keith scratched his head and gave a simple, honest-looking smile. "An ancient power furnace. The client wants it as a backup. The parts were rusted shut; I was struggling with it for ages. I just went to pick up a gear I dropped when I heard the noise out here."
He gestured with the wrench in his hand. "See? I've nearly stripped the bolts on this wrench just trying to turn it."
The leader glanced at the wrench and peered into the storage room. It was indeed a cluttered graveyard of mechanical parts, with a dilapidated power furnace sitting in the center and gears scattered on the floor, looking exactly like a mid-repair workstation.
Though he found no fault, he remained cautious. "You two, go in and check it properly."
Two enforcers went in and did a lap, naturally finding nothing.
The squad leader frowned, his gaze darting between Byrne and Keith, searching for a crack in the facade. But Keith maintained his dim-witted expression, his knuckles red from gripping the wrench—as if he truly had just finished a grueling physical task. Byrne, meanwhile, stood by with just the right amount of nervous tension, glancing occasionally at the gun muzzles like any typical citizen would.
Unable to find a problem, the squad leader finally withdrew his men. Before leaving, he told Byrne, "Sorry for the intrusion. If you notice anything suspicious, report it immediately."
Byrne nodded fervently. "Of course, of course!"
Once the squad had been ushered out and the door was securely locked, Byrne finally allowed his frayed nerves to relax.