Detective pt. II

///Lost'sForward/// 100 Power Stones = 1 Chapter

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"When I was last with you..." 

Cain sat in the back of a moving van. 

"I cried so deeply! My heart can't take it!" 

In the meantime, the experienced man driving said van sang his heart out. 

"If it's not you! Then I can't be me!" 

In addition to singing, he seemed to be a chain smoker. The man had a cigarette lit for the entire duration of the drive — a drive that took nearly two hours. 

For those that don't know, the average cigarette lasts anywhere from five to ten minutes. Therefore, over the course of two hours, the man driving smoked nine-teen cigarettes. 

Cain counted. 

What else was he supposed to do to pass the time? 

Thankfully though, the van finally stopped and the music was finally cut. 

The driver exited the vehicle. 

*thud* 

He slammed the door and Cain waited, but the backdoors never opened. 

Cain waited fifteen minutes just to be sure and in that time, he heard nothing. 

Cain shimmied across the back of the van and peeked through its windows. 

He saw the jungle. He saw tall and thin trees that stretched high up into the sky. The sun barely crept through the leaves, but beyond its light, everything Cain saw was cast in shadows. 

He unlocked the backdoor and stepped outside. Cain's shoes landed on deliberately placed gravel. 

He peeked around the van and in the distance, Cain saw a wide-open space cut between the jungle. A wooden fence surrounded the area in addition to makeshift huts and tents. 

Underneath the huts, crates and boxes littered the space. From the boxes, muzzled-tips and blemished barrels of rifles poked out. Based on their residue, the guns had been fired recently. 

But Cain could not see any corpses nor could he find a drop of blood. 

Instead, found within the confines of the fence, Cain saw the hunched over backs of about forty men hard at work. Strapped to their backs, baskets bobbed up and down as they picked one crop at a time. 

Repeatedly, the men bent over to pluck something from the earth, placed it in their basket, shuffled a few feet over, and began again. They were harvesting some sort of crop. 

The crops looked like mini trees, small bushels of leaves that blew with the wind. 

Cain also noticed that all of the men's fingers were covered in either bandages, gloves, or something as simple as torn cloth. 

For a good chunk of time, Cain observed the farm workers and the gunmen who watched over them. Then, Cain found the van driver among the Brazilians. 

He was in one of the huts talking to a gunman who dressed more domineering than the rest. Across the gunman's chest, two rows of high-caliber canisters were strapped to him and in his arms the man held a grenade launcher. 

The van driver and the (presumably) leader of the gunmen talked for a while before ultimately finishing with a firm handshake. The leader of the gunmen whistled shortly after and a group of his underlings dragged two large crates over to the van driver. 

Using a crowbar, one of the men cracked the wooden crate and rummaged through it. He pulled out a white brick and tossed it to the van driver. 

The van driver whipped a pocket knife into the white brick and ran his nose across the laceration. 

'So it's cocaine.' Cain realized. 

The van driver nodded in agreement and looked back at Cain, but all he saw was the van he had arrived in. 

Cain, on the other hand, shot his head back behind the van moments before the two made eye contact. Then, Cain heard approaching footsteps so he rushed into the jungle just behind the van and hid beyond the grace of its foliage. 

Crates of cocaine were loaded into the back of the van and by the time the loading was finished, thirty minutes had passed. 

The van driver entered his vehicle, lit the ignition, and drove down the one dirt road that led to the farm in the middle of the tropical jungle. 

Left stranded, Cain took advantage of the robust foliage that plagued the jungle and the deep shadows that were cast alongside it. 

In the shadows, Cain maneuvered around the farm. 

He pulled his smart phone from his pocket and took multiple pictures of the illegal activity. He also took special care in capturing the faces of the various men equipped with weaponry who stood guard for the farm. 

Then, Cain waited until nightfall. 

At dusk, three more vans arrived from the dirt road. The men picking the cocaine plants boarded the vans after receiving their pay in cash. 

The guards, meanwhile, remained at the farm. Their personal vehicles were parked all around — from trucks to sedans, a couple jeeps — the guards could leave at any time but instead they remained. 

Cain wanted to know why so he stuck around. 

At about nine o'clock at night, some of the guards began to depart and left their weapons in the barrels displaced around the farm. 

Still though, many of the guards remained; including the man with the grenade launcher. 

*DING* 

Cain's smart phone lit up with a notification. 

Immediately, all of the remaining guards raised their weapons and pointed them into the jungle. 

"WHO'S THERE?!" The leader shouted. 

"EVERYONE! SPREAD OUT!" 

The guards surrounded the perimeter of the farm and maintained their alertness. 

Moments passed in stressful silence. 

Then, from the jungle, mist spread through the foliage and invaded the farm. 

At first, the mist merely coated the guard's ankles. It traveled along the floor and filled the farm in its entirety. 

Before the guards even knew what hit them, their minds turned hazy. The focus found within their eyes faded and was replaced by glossiness and the stiffness found within their muscles loosened until their arms were back at their sides and their weapons were no longer drawn. 

Suddenly, the guards stopped looking into the jungle and stopped rotating around its perimeter. Rather, they stood perfectly still with their gazes fixed forward. 

Subsequently, Cain emerged from the jungle and walked past a handful of guards. 

As he did so, the guards did not acknowledge his presence. 

Cain walked up to the leader of the armed men. 

Even while stood directly in front of him, the man's eyes remained unfocused as if he were looking through Cain instead of at him. 

"Who runs this place?" Cain asked leisurely. 

"The Rose familia." An apathetic voice replied. 

"Be more specific." Cain instructed. 

"Maria Rose." 

"The sister?" Cain mumbled, "What does she do?" 

"Miss Maria is responsible for the cocaine production and distribution of the Rose familia." 

"Hmm. Does she ever visit the farms?

"Yes." 

"When?"

"On the first of every month." 

"What about her brother, Emilio?" 

"The family head does not involve himself in the drug business." 

"Oh?" That caught Cain's attention. "Why not?" 

"I don't know." 

"Guess." Cain instructed. 

The zombified man didn't reply. 

'So they can't infer things in this state.' Cain mused. 

'Interesting.' 

"Do you know where Emilio is?" 

"No." 

"When did you last see him?" 

"I have never met the head of the family." 

"Is that so... what about Maria? Do you know where she lives?" 

"No." 

"Is there a main Rose family base?" 

Silence. 

"Alright." Cain sighed, "Kill everyone here and then yourself." 

The man turned away from Cain. He lifted the grenade launcher and pointed it towards another guard. 

With no remorse in his actions, he pulled the trigger. 

A black canister burst from the weapon and pelted the back of one of the guards. Then, the canister fell to the ground. 

*BOOM* 

An explosion eviscerated the legs of the guard and launched him off the ground and into the jungle. 

*thunk* *thunk* *thunk*

Three more canisters were launched across the farm followed by three more detonations. 

The explosions ravaged the unpicked crops and ignited the fence that encapsulated it all. 

Within a moment, the farmland was set ablaze. 

Meanwhile, Cain shattered the window of one of the guard's trucks and unlocked its door. He tore off the plastic console beneath the steering wheel and pulled two of its wires out into the open. 

With that, Cain hotwired the truck and drove along the dirt road. 

As he left, he heard a final gunshot echo throughout the jungle. 

The gunmen's leader succinctly put a bullet in his own head. 

While Cain drove off, oblivious to him, a reflection of the burning farm hung from one of the jungle's trees. Next to the reflection, a red light blinked repeatedly. 

***

In the main office of a villa located on the outskirts of Sao Paulo, a man in a gray suit with red trim and gold jewelry stared daggers at a laptop propped up on his desk. Depicted on the laptops screen, a fire burned brilliantly. 

Emilio Rose slammed his fist onto his desk. As a result, some of his trinkets fell and shattered against the wood floors that adorned his office. 

He clenched his teeth and buried the anger rising within his chest. 

"What the hell did I just watch?" His tone appeared languid, but a violent storm surged at the back of his throat. 

"Forgive me sir, but I'm afraid we have no clue." 

*SLAM* 

Emilio's fist bludgeoned his desk once more. 

"Then you better fuckin' find out!" 

///LostNoteFound///

THANK YOU!!! DevilGod_of_Chaos, Hooverfh, and moofin for the stones!!!!!

Have a great weekend!