Chapter 10: Team Leader Verinice

"That's the girl in the camisole, but why is she here?" Roan instantly recognized her, quickly holstered his gun, and checked her condition. He found that the girl had been shot in the shoulder, and it was excessive blood loss that had caused her to lose consciousness.

Mona saw the girl's face pale and her breathing growing increasingly rapid. Anxiety overwhelmed her as she instinctively turned to Roan.

"I remember she left earlier... What do we do? I just threw the emergency medical kit to the patrol officers on the mountain!"

"It's alright," Roan replied with a glint in his eye and a calm, steady voice. "It's best not to move her right now. Drive back at once to the patrol and get the medical kit. I'll call the nearest hospital and have them send an ambulance here as quickly as possible."

"Okay." Mona nodded, holstered her own weapon, then hurriedly drove the windowless SUV back the way they'd come.

As the SUV finally vanished from sight, Roan first called the hospital, urging them to dispatch an ambulance immediately. Only after confirming Conrad was still unconscious did he relax, open the pale blue system interface, and retrieve the vial of hemostatic agent.

It was Roan's first time using a potion provided by the system. The medicine was contained in a small, square, transparent glass bottle, about five centimeters high, the liquid inside a bright red. He opened the cap and sniffed—no scent at all.

Seeing the bottle was labeled "oral," Roan pried open the girl's mouth and poured the entire contents in.

A few seconds later, the wound on her shoulder had not healed, but the bleeding stopped.

Moments later, Mona returned in the SUV. Before she could even get out, Roan snatched the emergency medical kit from her. By the time Mona stepped to the girl's side, Roan had nearly finished bandaging the wound.

Mona didn't overthink it; she simply assumed Roan was desperate to save the girl's life.

"By the way, Mona," Roan said, tying a neat butterfly knot over the girl's wound before turning to her with a smile. "Have you decided which investigative unit you want to join after becoming a full-fledged agent?"

"...?"

An hour later, Roan and Mona were back on the 23rd floor of the Jacob Federal Building.

The intern agents' office was ablaze with light and abuzz with excitement. All the interns who had chased leads in vain cast envious glances at Roan and Mona, seated at the front, heads together in hushed conversation.

According to the regulations, after breaking a case, intern agents were required to recount the entire process to several senior agents responsible for their training. The senior agents would ask questions, then score their performance.

This score would determine the intern's position after promotion—whether as a technical investigator focused on research, or as a field agent handling external duties.

"It just means they had a bit more luck than us, and found clues to the killer first," sneered Jody, who had sided with Fischer and received a beating from Roan. He took a sip of coffee handed by a teammate, eyeing Roan and Mona with disdain. "I heard they wrecked a department SUV during the arrest. I wonder how the unit supervisor will punish them."

"Probably a salary deduction," laughed the bespectacled intern beside Jody. "I asked around. The SUV they wrecked was the latest model in the Criminal Investigation Department. Just imagine Supervisor Veranis’s reputation outside..."

"You mean... stingy—"

"Ahem." At that, the two exchanged glances, stifling laughter as they waited for the show.

The supervisor they spoke of was Veranis, chief over Groups One through Five, and the iron-fisted manager of all their operating funds.

Nearby, Elena, another female intern, overheard their entire conversation and shot them a look of disdain.

They had the nerve to speak of luck, when Jody’s entire team had been working from the wrong premise in their search for the killer! Even if Roan's team hadn't caught the culprit, it certainly wouldn't have been Jody’s group.

Her gaze drifted to Roan at the front, her eyes softening as she admired his handsome profile.

"They're coming," someone whispered.

The office door opened. All chatter ceased as the interns sat up straight, hoping to make a good impression on the senior agents who would hear their case report.

What they had not expected was that, though the familiar balding senior agent did enter, the first to step in was Supervisor Veranis herself!

"What?"

"The unit supervisor?"

"Why is she here?"

Seeing Veranis, dressed in a tailored women's suit with crisp short hair and an expression of stone, the office instantly buzzed with barely contained whispers.

Behind Veranis came the five group leaders. The six of them took seats at the front, leaving the usually presiding balding senior agent standing awkwardly to the side, with nowhere else to sit.

As one of the agents directly involved, Mona was also puzzled. Why had such a minor homicide case drawn the attention of their supervisor? Unable to fathom the reason, she instinctively glanced at Roan.

Roan, too, was mystified by the attention of his superior's superior, but he was untroubled. He would simply face whatever came. After all, he had done nothing against the rules. With composure, he stood up, smiled, and confidently led Mona to the front of the office.

Ignoring Group One's leader Broson, whose face was as dark as burnt iron, Roan indicated for Mona to set the materials from her laptop before Supervisor Veranis. Clearing his throat, he addressed the assembled officers with a smile.

"Good evening, everyone. I am intern agent Roan, and this is my teammate, intern agent Mona."

After a brief introduction to the victim's time and place of death, Roan began a detailed account of their entire investigation since noon: tracing the killer's escape route in the park, connecting the autopsy report to a bar the victim had visited, discovering clues to the second person tailing the victim, tracking the lead to a villa where they unexpectedly encountered the killer, and finally, after a fierce battle of wits and will, capturing the true culprit against tremendous odds.

Mona: "..."

This extraordinary tale left the intern agents gaping and held the group leaders spellbound, including even Broson of Group One.

All except Supervisor Veranis.

When Roan finished, Veranis opened her notebook, expressionless, and after a moment’s thought, asked, "The killer, Conrad, is a military veteran. Why did he murder war correspondent Mike Roberts and NYU professor West Watts? What was his motive?"

Veranis's question brought everyone back from Roan's story. Indeed, Roan had caught the killer, but had not explained why Conrad had acted as he did. Was it a personal grudge or ancient enmity?

"Apologies, ma'am," interjected August, giving Roan a subtle signal before explaining, "Roan is an intern agent and is not authorized to interrogate the suspect Conrad, so he..."

"So Roan cannot answer your question, Supervisor," Broson, leader of Group One, cut in with a smile, picking up where August left off.

August’s face darkened instantly, as though he’d swallowed coal.