Chapter 1870
[ 553 words ]
They paid off their debts through alternative means.
Some faced prison time, others paid with their lives.
Some were left permanently paralyzed.
But without exception, a massive life insurance payout was issued by SwiftRide- policies the platform had proactively taken out on them.
This company was a masterclass in psychological manipulation.
They weaponized desperate, ordinary people to execute their atrocities.
Reading through stack after stack of reports in his office, Captain Vance felt physically sick.
He couldn’t believe this app had become a sanctuary for organized murder.
It wasn’t even a single client; multiple players were ordering hits through it.
They even operated a heavily encrypted forum on the dark web to streamline the contracts.
Naturally, access was strictly gatekept, and the vetting process was absolute.
Only the desperate and morally compromised were invited; regular drivers never even saw it.
Vance distributed his findings to the elite task force assembled from across the nation.
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
There was no avoiding it—the implications of this case were apocalyptic. It was impossible to gauge just how deeply the titan was involved.
If the titan wasn’t providing top cover, would Julian Prowler really have the nerve to build an assassination syndicate?
Did he have that kind of backbone on his own?
Vance rapidly issued operational directives.
Silas Carl was still recovering and benched, but FIB headquarters had deployed other specialists.
Director Weaver himself was commanding the grid, coordinating a joint strike with the police to carve out the rot.
SwiftRide wasn’t shut down immediately; the police needed the servers running to trace the entire network.
When the raids began, families watched in horror as seemingly ordinary, hardworking men were dragged away in handcuffs for contract killing.
The banality of evil was playing out in real-time.
Claire was entirely oblivious to the chaos. Sequestered in her hospital room, she was hyper-focused on studying for finals banning all her friends and classmates from visiting.
Dane was actively feeding technical data to the police, mapping out a syndicate that grew more sprawling by the hour.
Her hospital room was the only sanctuary left in the city.
Since neither wanted to break the
other’s concentration, Claire didnet
even
x what Dane was tundidet
furiously about all day.
Between study sessions, she managed to draft two design sketches to pacify her aunt, Jenny.
Upon receiving the files, Jenny practically wept with joy.
“You finally decided to do some actual work.”
Claire laughed. “You’re literally about to go into labor, and you’re still obsessing over work.”
If she hadn’t sent the designs, she wouldn’t have even known Jenny was in the maternity ward.
She was past her due date, but the baby was refusing to vacate the premises.
Jenny and Edison had unanimously decided to just move into the hospital and wait.
Two days later, the contractions finally started.
Right before she was wheeled into the delivery room, Jenny accepted the files and immediately video-called Claire.
“You’re judging me, but look at your background. Why does it look like you’re in a hospital room?”
Before Claire could answer, Jenny shouted for Edison.
“Edison, come look! Is your niece in a hospital?”
Edison leaned in, his pre-fatherhood panic instantly morphing into sheer terror for Claire.
“Claire, what the hell happened now?”
The government had aggressively
suppressed any footage featuring Claire in the crash, intentionally keeping her out of the media
spotlight.
So, she hadn’t gone viral.
The public was obsessing over the horrific pileup, completely unaware she was the focal point of the carnage.
Naturally, Edison and Jenny hadn’t heard a whisper about her hospitalization.
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