Old Harbor, District 17, three o’clock in the morning.0

The place had been abandoned for years; commercial vessels or cargo transports ever moored here, but deep into the night, private ships could be found smuggling various items in and out. The intel indicated that the smugglers and the mysterious ware were hiding in No.8 warehouse at the back of the harbor.0

Lithe Snake parked a hundred meters away, using the zooming function of his prosthetic eye to scout the warehouse.0

The artificial moon hung high above the city. Silver moonlight washed over the weathered structure. There was no drone around and no signs of an ambush.0

“There’s nothing outside the warehouse,” Lithe Snake said, his cold blue prosthetic eye...0