You're a US police officer, what are you thinking about going back to the East for?

"Bang!"

As the heavy soundproof doors were suddenly pushed open, deafening heavy metal music crashed into Leon's face like a tsunami.

Laser lights flashed wildly, the dance floor was filled with twisting crowds, and the air was thick with the stench of cheap perfume, sweat, marijuana, and alcohol fermenting together.

In those secluded booths and semi-open sofa areas, the undisguised trading and use of enhancement drugs are taking place.

Some people were leaning over the glass coffee table, inhaling the roll of US dollars without even trying to stop themselves, while others were slumped on the sofa with unfocused eyes, letting the strippers next to them writhe on their bodies.

As Lyon's dozen or so burly men in plainclothes, exuding a murderous aura, barged in, the guests near the door were the first to notice something was wrong.

They stopped moving instantly.

The once wild dance floor quickly expanded into a deathly silent vacuum, starting from the main entrance.

Lyon strode onto the dance floor expressionlessly, ignoring the surprised, bewildered, or provocative glances directed at him.

In his eyes, these drug addicts and henchmen who were still shaking their heads were nothing more than rats in the sewers, not worth wasting time on.

Besides, even if they managed to catch a few small fry who were absorbing the enhancement agent, given Seattle's tolerance level, these guys would probably be released the next day.

"Seattle Police! ACU raid! Everyone sit still!"

Lyon's roar pierced through the deafening electronic music.

Then, he strode forward and led the team straight toward the staircase leading to the VIP area on the second floor.

As I passed a booth, a guy with tattooed arms and glazed eyes was slumped over the table, smoking something. He was clearly unaware of what had just happened. When he saw someone coming, instead of making way, he cursed and stuck out his foot to trip Leon.

"Get out of my way, don't block my way..."

"Bang!"

Without even looking, Lyon raised his foot and slammed it hard onto the heavy marble coffee table.

The immense force kicked over the coffee table, instantly spilling the wine bottles, ice bucket, and expensive white powder all over the floor, mixing into the filthy carpet.

The tattooed man got his leg stuck in the overturned table and let out a scream.

"Ah! My leg!"

Amidst the chaos, a familiar blue light screen popped up in the corner of Leon's vision.

[Large-scale regional mission triggered: A breeding ground for evil]

[Note: This area is rife with prostitution, gambling, and drugs. It's the cash cow of the 12th Street Boys, and the lifeblood of this city's cancer. Since you're here, don't just look.]

[Reward: 800 Justice Points]

"Go upstairs!"

Leon didn't linger on the dance floor. With a wave of his hand, he led Harrison and Bulldozer, among others, like a sharp knife, directly cutting through the crowd and heading straight for the stairs leading to the second-floor VIP area.

As the menacing plainclothes officers rushed up the stairs, the lobby on the first floor erupted into chaos.

"Cops! They're mad dogs from the Special Operations Unit!"

"Run!"

The music finally stopped, and the guests who had been immersed in the illusion finally came to their senses, screaming and shoving each other, and the scene briefly spiraled out of control.

The gang members responsible for guarding the place were now in a state of extreme confusion.

Some of them had even reached for the guns or switchblades at their waists, but when they saw the outlines of bulletproof vests faintly visible on the backs of the plainclothes officers on the stairs, they all chickened out.

"Damn it! What are you all standing there for? Go! Stop them! That's the VIP area!"

A foreman-like man roared.

"Screw you! Why don't you go up? That's ACU! The one leading the group is Vance!"

The henchman next to him turned pale, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot. "Anyone who goes up there now is dead! Why don't you grab your cocktail bottle and smash him in?!"

"Exactly! The boss only pays us a few thousand dollars a month, why are you risking your life? Let the guys upstairs handle this themselves!"

No one dared to make a move.

Meanwhile, Lyon had already led his men up to the second floor.

The corridors here are covered with thick red carpets, the walls are covered with soundproofing foam, and the lighting is dim and ambiguous.

It's much quieter than downstairs, but also much dirtier.

"Spread out! Check each room one by one!" Leon waved his hand.

"Bang! Bang!"

The ACU members didn't hesitate to kick open the doors of the private rooms on both sides of the corridor one by one.

Screams and angry shouts rose and fell.

The scenes in the rooms on the left were shocking.

Some scantily clad women and so-called VIP guests were roughly dragged off the sofas or beds.

The girls in the room, barely clothed, huddled in a corner, trembling with fear, when they saw the police rush in.

Lyon stood in the corridor, coldly watching as a bulldozer pinned a john, who was pulling up his pants, against the wall.

He keenly noticed that a significant portion of these girls had vacant, numb eyes and were abnormally thin.

My arms and inner thighs are covered with countless needle marks, some fresh, some already scabbed over and ulcerated.