Northern Asia, District Nine, Songjiang City.

  White stood inside the office building of the Black Street Police Department, which belonged to the Municipal Police Headquarters, smiling as he asked a middle-aged man, "Is everything ready?"

  "Mm, come in," the middle-aged man waved his hand and turned to walk into the office on the left.

  White straightened his clothes and followed the man inside.

  The office wasn’t small—about sixty square meters—but there was only one person sitting behind the desk. The man looked to be around forty, with a thick mustache, a face full of hardened flesh, and a naturally fierce expression.

  The middle-aged man walked up to the desk, placed two stacks of documents in front of the mustached man, and said softly, "Chief, this is the last one."

  "Medical check done?" The mustached man picked up the documents.

  "Yes."

  "Alright, you can go."

  "Understood."

  After their brief exchange, the middle-aged man left, while White took a couple of steps forward and stood silently in front of the desk, watching as the mustached man reviewed his documents.

  Behind the desk, the mustached man frowned as he read the documents, muttering under his breath: "White, 22 years old, 75 kg, 1.82 meters tall... born before the New Era, ancestral hometown in J City, H Province. Hah, not too far from Songjiang nowadays. Before joining, lived in the unregulated zone. Parents missing (presumed dead), no relatives... Hm? Why is your work history blank?"

  "I don’t have one," White replied with a smile. "In the unregulated zone, just staying alive is hard enough. You take whatever work puts food on the table—there’s no such thing as a formal work history."

  "Heh." The mustached man chuckled. "You could’ve at least made something up before coming here. The system doesn’t like blank entries."

  "Got it. I’ll fill in something later," White agreed without arguing.

  The mustached man scanned the documents and asked, "No work history means no military service. Any experience with firearms?"

  White shook his head without hesitation. "None."

  "Any criminal record?"

  "None."

  The mustached man paused, then slowly set the documents down. He looked up at White with a faint smile. "To make it out of the unregulated zone—a lawless, chaotic place—and scrape together enough money to buy a job and residency permit in District Nine... kid, you must have some stories."

  "Not really," White grinned sheepishly. "Just got lucky and met some helpful people."

  The mustached man picked up his teacup, studying White before nodding approvingly. "Mm, you look sharp."

  White smiled but didn’t respond.

  The mustached man set his cup down and clasped his hands, giving White a straightforward briefing: "District Nine is special. Even though it’s part of the United Government’s administrative system, it has a high degree of autonomy—fundamentally different from the other eight districts. It’s a mixed bag of ethnicities here: besides us, there are plenty of Black and White folks too... The social environment is complicated, and in some areas, there’s chaos we haven’t been able to clean up yet. As a police officer, you’ll need to adapt to all of it."

  "Understood," White replied seriously.

  "And one more thing—I don’t care what you’ve been through before, but if you work under me, you’ll keep your head down. If you cause trouble, I’ll deal with you immediately." The mustached man’s tone was calm but firm.

  "Chief Li, I’m here to make your job easier, not harder," White said with a grin.

  The mustached man smirked and tapped a few keys on the touchscreen phone on his desk, leaning toward the microphone.

  A few seconds later, a male voice answered: "Chief’s office, this is the First Criminal Investigation Team."

  "Where’s Yuan Ke?" Chief Li asked.

  "... Captain Yuan isn’t here. He just stepped out."

  "I’m sending you a new recruit. Come pick him up."

  "Right away, sir."

  "That’s all." Chief Li stroked his mustache and hung up. "Wait outside. Someone will come get you soon. You’ll learn the ropes from your team."

  "Got it, Chief Li." White nodded, then took a couple of steps forward and pulled a small black pouch from his pocket, placing it on the desk. "Xiao Qi reminded me that getting into the police force here isn’t easy. Without your help, I’d be stuck waiting forever. So I couldn’t forget my manners."

  Chief Li picked up the pouch and opened it, his eyebrows lifting slightly at the sight of a diamond the size of a pea. "You’ve got some connections in the unregulated zone if you can get your hands on this. Damn, haven’t seen one of these in years."

  White just smiled.

  Chief Li tossed the pouch into a drawer and locked it, then pointed at White. "You’ve got some style for a kid your age."

  "That’s all I’ve got to my name," White scratched his head, playing the humble rookie. Seeing that Chief Li wasn’t rushing off to lunch, he chatted with him for a few more minutes.

  A few minutes later, a chubby young man around White’s age walked in, standing at attention and saluting. "Reporting, Chief Li! Third-class officer Qilin from the First Team, here to escort the new recruit!"

  Chief Li patted White on the shoulder. "Work hard. Maybe I’ll see you in the year-end evaluations."

  "Will do." White nodded.

  "Alright, head to the team." Chief Li gestured at Qilin. "Tell Yuan Ke to look after this kid."

  Thanks to the diamond, White got an extra ten minutes with Chief Li and a vague promise of "looking after" him. But that seemed to be the extent of it.

  In the hallway.

  The chubby Qilin walked beside White, chatting amiably. "Where’re you from, man?"

  "The unregulated zone."

  "That hellhole?" Qilin blinked. "Damn, you must’ve had it rough."

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  "Got lucky," White shrugged.

  Qilin nodded and didn’t press further. In these times, everyone had their secrets—survival wasn’t easy, and some things were better left unasked.

  As they walked, Qilin gave White a rundown of the police department’s structure. The department handled criminal cases, public order, and investigations but didn’t deal with administrative tasks like residency permits or ID issuance. It was kind of like a pre-New Era district police station, just with less specialization. White’s unit, for example, handled everything from major cases to routine patrols.

  After about an hour, Qilin had shown White around all five floors of the department, introducing him to the armory, interrogation rooms, public investigation area, training rooms, and the cafeteria.

  During the tour, White noticed that Qilin was smooth—he could strike up a conversation with anyone. He was also patient, answering all of White’s questions in detail. At least on the surface, he seemed like a decent guy.

  Around 2 PM, Qilin took White to the communications department to buy a department-issued phone. But after glancing at the counter, White frowned. There was only one model available—an outdated, overpriced piece of junk.

  "What brand is this? Never even heard of it," White muttered, turning to Qilin. "Forget it. I’ll buy one outside later. This is a rip-off."

  Qilin chuckled, glancing at the clerk behind the counter before whispering, "You should just buy it here."

  "Why?"

  "No real reason. The comms department is official, but this phone counter is privately run. The owner’s a friend of Captain Yuan’s. All new recruits buy their phones here." Qilin winked. "Better not rock the boat. The phone might be crap, but at least it’s pre-registered with the department. Once your info’s in the system, you just enter your name and badge number to activate it."

  White had spent years in the lawless unregulated zone—he knew how the game worked. So when Qilin hinted at it, he didn’t argue further. Grudgingly, he turned to the clerk. "Alright, I’ll take one. Thanks."

  Why grudgingly?

  Because White was notoriously stingy. He’d haggle over the price of socks if he could. But it was also that same frugality that had saved up enough to buy his way into District Nine and this job.

  After getting the phone, Qilin led him out of the department and across the street to a general store.

  It was August, but the air was still bitterly cold, with patches of snow lingering on the streets.

  "Does it always snow here?" White asked.

  "Three years straight," Qilin replied.

  "Damn. No mercy," White sighed.

  Inside the store, White looked around and tapped mud off his pants. "Place is huge. Not many customers, huh?"

  "Just grab whatever you need," Qilin said, puffing on an e-cigarette.

  White browsed the shelves, but the deeper he went, the more his frown deepened. After ten minutes, he hadn’t picked up a single item.

  "Not getting anything?" Qilin walked over.

  White shot him a look. "Dude, are you getting a cut or something?"

  "What?"

  "Everything here is at least 30% marked up. And half of it’s fake. I squeezed one of the quilts—felt like it was stuffed with steel wool. It’s sharp, man!"

  "...Yeah, the stuff’s not great. But all the new recruits shop here."

  "Why?"

  "Because the owner’s Captain Yuan’s cousin," Qilin said under his breath. "It’s the department’s ‘approved’ supplier."

  White’s face fell. After a pause, he asked, "Let me guess—Chief Li doesn’t shop here, does he?"

  "Don’t be ridiculous. Even if Chief Li wanted to, Captain Yuan wouldn’t dare sell to him," Qilin scoffed. "Just buy what you need for the first couple of months. After that, you can shop wherever."

  "I’m not buying a damn thing. This is a scam," White said flatly. "Let’s go somewhere else."

  Qilin hesitated. "You’ve already spent a fortune. What’s a little more? Trust me, everyone buys here. Don’t make waves."

  "I bought the phone. That’s enough face for the captain." White headed for the door.

  "Hey, White, listen—"

  "You getting a commission or something?"

  "Just buy a few things—"

  "Buy what? Toilet paper sharp enough to slit my wrists? One wipe and I’d need a bandage." White ignored him and walked out.

  4:30 PM. Police Department Dormitory, First Criminal Investigation Team, Room 2.

  Qilin smiled as he called out to the men inside, "Third Brother, brought the new guy!"

  Inside, six or seven guys were gathered around a table playing cards. The leader, a man with a buzz cut, glanced up at White. "Get in here."

  The two stepped inside. White scanned the room—about thirty square meters, crammed with six bunk beds (twelve beds total), two shared lockers, and personal belongings everywhere. Crowded, but at least it was clean. No weird smells.

  "White, this is Third Brother, leader of our action team," Qilin introduced carefully. "Third Brother’s been here three years, top performer, Captain Yuan’s right-hand man. Third Brother, this is White, our new guy."

  "Hey, Third Brother." White extended a hand.

  Third Brother, still holding his cards, gave White a once-over and nodded. "Where you from?"

  "The unregulated zone."

  Third Brother’s eyebrows lifted slightly. "What’d you do there?"

  "Worked for a boss, delivering goods. Mostly daily supplies."

  "Road work? That’s not easy."

  "Nah, just drove the truck."

  "Oh, a driver." Third Brother’s interest faded. "How’d you get into the department?"

  "Had a friend put in a word. Paid my way in."

  "Bought your spot, huh?" Third Brother smirked and turned back to his cards. "Alright, wait for Captain Yuan to assign your duties. Qilin, put him on the bed by the window."

  "Got it."

  Qilin turned to White. "You’re on the inside bunk."

  "Sure." White grabbed his luggage (which he’d left at the guard station) and his newly purchased supplies, heading toward the back.

  "Hold up." Third Brother suddenly turned, eyeing White’s shopping bag. "Where’d you get that stuff?"

  White paused. "Some store. Can’t remember the name."

  Third Brother kept playing cards, his voice flat as he asked Qilin, "Qilin, didn’t you tell the new guy where to shop?"

  Qilin froze. If he threw White under the bus now, it’d make him look like a snake. But if he didn’t, he’d be the one taking the blame.

  After a brief silence, White cut in: "Qilin told me to go to the store across the street. But their stuff was too expensive. I’m broke, so I went somewhere else."

  "Pair of twos." Third Brother played his cards, letting the silence stretch before finally saying, "Whatever. Get settled."

  White nodded and went back to unpacking.

  Qilin hovered nearby, helping out while muttering, "New guys always get the window bunk. It’s drafty as hell at night. Just layer up and tough it out. Once another recruit comes in, you can switch."

  "Not a problem. I’ve slept outside for months," White said dismissively, discreetly pulling two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes from his bag and slipping them to Qilin.

  "What’s this?" Qilin blinked.

  "Saw you vaping earlier," White grinned. "Not much on me, but here’s something decent. Thanks for today."

  In these times, proper cigarettes were a luxury—especially premium pre-New Era brands like Zhonghua. Most people had never even seen them, let alone smoked them.

  Qilin’s eyes widened. "You got these in the unregulated zone? Zhonghua? Haven’t seen these in years!"

  "Perks of a shitty place," White chuckled. "I’ll finish unpacking. Go do your thing. I’ll treat you to a meal later."

  "Thanks, man!" Qilin pocketed the cigarettes without hesitation.

  Just then, Third Brother turned his head, eyeing White with a smirk. "Damn, you’ve got the good stuff, huh?"

  White hadn’t expected to be watched so closely. He paused before replying, "A friend gave them to me."

  "Fancy. Never seen anything like it," Third Brother said coolly.

  Qilin quickly pulled out the two packs and stepped forward. "We’re all brothers here. Let’s share. Come on, everyone grab one."

  White had given Qilin the cigarettes as a thank-you for the day’s help—not because he owed anyone else in the room. But now that Third Brother had noticed, and with White stuck living here, he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. After a moment’s thought, he pulled out another pack from his bag.

  At the card table, Third Brother pushed Qilin’s hand away. "Too rich for my blood. Never smoked anything this fancy."

  Qilin stood there awkwardly.

  White frowned, sensing the hostility. He stuffed the pack back into his bag and kept unpacking.

  Third Brother tossed his cards down and stood, walking over with four others. "New guys pull three straight shifts. Tomorrow, the day after, and the one after that. You’re on street duty. Got a problem with that?"

  White glanced at Qilin, who avoided his gaze. He understood immediately. "Third Brother, how do these shifts work?"

  "Back-to-back. Day at the station, night on patrol." Third Brother took a sip of water.

  "Overtime pay, then?" White asked with a faint smile.

  "Team rules. No overtime." Third Brother didn’t even look up.

  "White, just do the three shifts. I’ll swap with someone and cover two of them for you," Qilin offered after a pause, glancing down at the Zhonghua in his hand.

  "You’re real generous, Qilin," one of the card players teased.

  "Brothers gotta stick together," Qilin laughed weakly.

  Third Brother set his cup down and pointed at Qilin. "Tell him how shifts work after he gets his uniform."

  "Got it."

  "Third Brother, I can’t do those shifts," White said suddenly.

  The room fell silent.

  Third Brother licked his lips. "Everyone else does them. Why can’t you?"

  "Heart condition. Can’t handle all-nighters."

  "Don’t worry, I’ll get you some heart meds. You’re doing three shifts."

  "I said I can’t."

  "You think you’re special or something?" Third Brother’s face darkened. "What, you got two extra dads or something? Everyone else does it. Why not you?"

  "Third Brother, come on, we’re all brothers here. No need for this—" Qilin tried to mediate.

  Thud!

  Third Brother punched Qilin in the shoulder. "Who asked you? Since when are you my brother?"

  Qilin clenched the cigarettes in his hand, head bowed, trapped between speaking up and walking away.

  Third Brother stepped forward with his crew, glaring at White. "Next week, you’re on shifts every day. You’ll keep working until your heart gives out. Understood?"