Late at night, the crime scene in White Beach Town was lit up as bright as day by the headlights of a wheeled armored vehicle.
Inside and outside the light, a dozen National Guard soldiers were fully armed but seemed a bit bored.
They were ordered to maintain order, but no force in this small town dared to challenge their might.
The soldiers leaned against the armored vehicle, whispering to each other and occasionally glancing at the busy FBI agents with a hint of disdain and helplessness in their eyes.
The FBI agents appeared exceptionally tense. They gripped their guns tightly, their steps cautious, carefully searching every corner of the houses, ready to respond to any sudden situation.
As they entered the basement, a damp mist greeted them. Under the bright lights, the puddles on the floor reflected a blinding glare.
