"Rian, with the talent and skill you showed today, you don't need any favors to join the Detective Bureau."
"You really won't reconsider?" Erik asked again.
Rian paused for a moment and then shook his head.
"I'd rather pass the exam on my own."
Sometimes, favors came with strings attached. He had the ability to get in on merit alone—so why take the shortcut?
Erik could only sigh. But in his heart, he'd already made a decision: the moment Rian passed the exam, he was going straight to the chief to pull him into Team Three.
With the vehicle now identified, tracking it through the camera-riddled downtown was easy.
Before long, voices crackled through every officer's radio.
"Target vehicle locked. Currently heading down Fifth Avenue toward Long Beach."
The moment Rian heard that, a chill surged down his spine.
"FAKK... they're headed for international waters!"
He clenched his jaw.
"Everyone, mobilize to Long Beach! NOW!"
Long Beach was a famed tourist spot—and home to one of the largest yacht harbors on the coast.
Sea fishing was wildly popular around Los Angeles. It wasn't uncommon for people to take their boats deep into open waters just to cast a line.
More importantly, many private companies preferred conducting "sensitive" experiments—biomedical, chemical, even defense-related—out at sea, far from nosy regulators.
And criminals? They loved that loophole.
Organ harvesting, for instance.
Rian had made the connection instantly—and so had Erik.
Leaving behind just enough to secure the park, every available detective and patrol officer roared down the freeway toward Long Beach.
Rian's Toyota Crown shot out like a bullet.
With his Speed King talent active, the car weaved through congested streets like a fish through water.
Behind him, the rest of the police cars could barely keep up.
"FAKK, he's doing 80 in city traffic!"
"SH*T! How the hell is he slipping through moving traffic like that?!"
"God! I thought Fast & Furious was all CGI, but this guy… he's actually doing it!"
"He drives like that, and he's still a cop? Why isn't he racing for millions?"
Even Erik was stunned. He'd already lost sight of Rian's taillights.
"Damn it… not only is he an elite operative and a genius-level detective—he's also a driving god?! What can't this guy do?"
Helena chuckled.
"Some people are born with gifts, Captain. Rian just happens to have all of them."
Erik nodded slowly, his resolve hardening.
He had to get this man into his team.
By the time Rian reached the marina, he and Henry spotted a speedboat heading toward the horizon.
The black Cadillac Escalade sat abandoned nearby.
"Dammit! We're too late!" Henry said, breathless.
Rian had gunned the engine so hard, he'd left the others a full ten minutes behind.
Eyes narrowing at the shrinking dot of the speedboat, a storm brewed in Rian's gaze.
War criminals. Drug lords. Traffickers. Organ smugglers. Traitors.
These were his bottom five—scum he could never forgive.
Without hesitation, he popped the cruiser's trunk and geared up.
Kevlar vest. AR-15 slung over his back. Five spare mags clipped to his chest.
Henry froze.
"Holy hell, Rian, what the hell are you doing?!"
"They'll have armed men on that boat—it's suicide to go in alone!"
"We're just patrol officers. SWAT will be here soon, let them handle it!"
But Rian was already staring out to sea.
Glory lies in the mouth of danger.
With the system backing him and superhuman stats on his side, an organ-smuggling crew was nothing.
Hell, he could storm the White House if he had to.
And wiping out these butchers? That was bound to bring in massive rewards.
"We're LAPD, Henry."
Of course, he needed the cover story. Later, when people asked, it had to be clear—he was there as an officer, not a vigilante.
Even on international waters, he'd need LAPD's shield to handle the fallout.
Getting branded a 'butcher' or flagged by human rights orgs was a bureaucratic nightmare.
Rian clapped Henry on the shoulder and walked off.
A fishing yacht sat moored nearby. The owner, clearly wealthy, took one look at Rian's armed form and silently handed over the keys.
The man didn't say a word.
By the time Rian's borrowed vessel became a black dot on the horizon, Erik and the rest finally arrived.
"Henry! Where's Rian?!"
"He went after them."
Henry pointed at the vanishing boat.
"DAMN IT! He's going in alone?!"
"SH*T! Call the Coast Guard! We need backup!"
"Helena! Get Air Support on the line—tell them to scramble choppers!"
Erik fired off orders like a machine gun.
The rest of the cops stared out to sea, awe written across their faces.
In this country, personal heroism was a sacred ideal.
And Rian, going solo into open waters to save a kidnapped little girl?
He wasn't just a cop.
He was a legend in the making.
And in that moment—he earned the silent, undying respect of every officer watching from the shore.