The Phantom Thief and The After Party

The crumbling remains of Dalton's meticulously planned event left him seething with rage and frustration.

The grandeur he had orchestrated now seemed nothing more than a mockery, a slap to his authority. His command was swift and decisive.

"I want all media outlets blocked. Not a single word about L.L.'s success tonight should find its way to the news," Dalton's voice was steely as he issued the order to his secretary.

"Ensure that all guests and staff present tonight are silenced. No one should utter a word to the press," he added, his anger propelling his words like venom.

Dalton's secretary didn't flinch; she was well accustomed to the Supreme Prime Minister's mercurial temper.

Swiftly, she set into motion the intricate machinery of media suppression, pulling the strings that would ensure the events of the night would remain veiled in secrecy.

Amidst this orchestrated chaos, Panache, with his signature stoic demeanor, approached Dalton.

Disappointment and dissatisfaction were written across his face, reflecting the collective sentiment of the security team.

"Supreme Prime Minister, I must convey our profound disappointment with the quality of security that was provided," Panache's tone was firm, yet respectful.

Dalton, masking his seething anger behind a façade of calm authority, replied, "I sincerely apologize for any inconvenience that has arisen."

Fixing his gaze unwaveringly on Panache, Dalton's voice carried an unwavering determination. "I assure you, within the next 24 hours, the Princess's prized gem will be restored to her possession, no matter the cost."

Before Panache could respond, Princess Seraphina, displaying a rare levity, interjected playfully, "Well, that would be fantastic. I'd rather not face my father's wrath for returning without it."

Turning to Panache, she dismissed his concern. "I'm fine, really. Just a minor bump. Remember, Panache, you're the one who taught me to be strong."

Panache, however, was having none of it. "Medical attention is non-negotiable until I'm convinced you're well, Princess."

A playful pout graced the Princess's face, but her determination remained steadfast. "Alright, alright. But I'm taking this with me too. It'll be a new addition to my collection," she said, holding up the grappler that L.L. had used.

Panache couldn't help but shake his head, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his expression.

The young royal's spirited nature always managed to both amuse and challenge him.

With Princess Seraphina and Panache's exit, Dalton turned his attention to his personal terminal. The time had come to contact a specialized entity—the elusive Bounty Hunter Guild.

"Operator. How may I direct your call?" a woman's voice inquired.

"Accounts payable," Dalton replied with a purposeful tone.

"One moment, please," the operator responded.

After a brief pause, Dalton's call was routed to the appropriate department.

"Accounts Payable. How may I assist you?" another woman's voice came through.

"I wish to update a commission," Dalton stated, his voice unwavering.

"The account holder's name?" she inquired.

"Phantom Thief L.L.," Dalton's response was unwavering.

"Verification?" she pressed.

"000-001," he affirmed.

"Status of the contract?" she continued.

"Urgent," Dalton stated, the urgency echoing in his voice.

"Change in compensation?" she probed.

"Amend it from two million to ten million," Dalton's directive was precise.

"Processing. Please hold," she requested.

As the modifications were executed, the Accounts Payable printed, stamped, and finalized the updated contract, confirming, "Order confirmed."

With confirmation secured, Dalton concluded the call. Yet, despite the resolution, his vexation persisted. At this juncture, his singular desire was L.L.'s unmasking and defeat, whatever the means.

Unsatisfied and unwilling to remain idle, Dalton initiated yet another call, this time through his secretary.

"Connect me to the Team Leader of The Maxim," Dalton's tone was coldly decisive.

"I've attempted to establish contact, but there's been no response," his secretary informed him, her tone respectful.

"Deliver this message: If he doesn't answer my call, he can kiss his early retirement goodbye. He has ten seconds," Dalton's ultimatum was swift and unyielding.

Without delay, Dalton's secretary relayed the message, adhering meticulously to his directive.

A brief interval passed, and then, Dalton's personal terminal chimed with an incoming call.

"Sorry about that, boss. I was in the restroom doing business. I didn't think it was appropriate to answer your call in such circumstances," the voice on the other end was casual, yet it carried an air of unmistakable authority.

The recipient of Dalton's ultimatum was no ordinary individual. He was known, rather ominously, as "the Boogeyman."

The Maxim, the secretive and elite special unit he led, operated under the direct command of the Supreme Prime Minister.

Their mandate was simple—deliver Maximum Impact.

***

[Alfred POV]

The bustling metropolis buzzed with tension, its heartbeat synchronized with the unfolding events.

Amid this symphony of unseen forces, Alfred's communicator chimed, piercing through the city's pulse.

The caller ID displayed the name "Gordon," the head of the Special Investigative Division. Without hesitation, Alfred accepted the call.

"Alfred, I need you to meet me urgently," Gordon's voice cut through the digital connection, weighted with a sense of urgency.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, Alfred replied, "Where shall we meet?"

Gordon's tone held an air of secrecy. "There's a separate truck from our command center. Meet me there."

Alfred wasted no time and made his way to the designated rendezvous point.

The police truck was strategically parked in a concealed alleyway, almost hidden amidst the urban chaos.

As Alfred approached, the rear door of the truck swung open, revealing Gordon inside, surrounded by an array of screens and advanced technology.

"Alfred, thank you for coming swiftly," Gordon's tone conveyed a mix of urgency and concern.

Alfred nodded in acknowledgment. "What's the situation?"

Gordon's gaze held a sense of urgency as he began to explain, "You remember when you warned me about L.L. possibly having a partner in crime, a formidable hacker?"

Alfred's memory quickly recalled their previous conversation. "Yes, I do. What's happened?"

Gordon's voice was measured as he revealed the extent of the situation, "All the CCTV cameras in the city have been compromised. L.L.'s partner is proving to be a masterful hacker."

In the midst of their intense discussions, Gordon brought up a sensitive topic, shifting the focus of their conversation. "Alfred, there's something else you should know."

Alfred's eyebrows raised, intrigued. "What is it?"

Gordon hesitated for a moment before revealing, "Given the hacking of the city's CCTV cameras, we've had to resort to an alternative method. We've transformed all the microphones on the residents' terminals into high-frequency generator-receivers, essentially creating a sonar-like network across the city."

Alfred's expression morphed from curiosity to concern. "Microphones? Sonar-like network? Gordon, that sounds like a massive invasion of privacy."

Gordon's gaze was unwavering as he met Alfred's eyes. "I understand your concerns, Alfred. But desperate times call for desperate measures. We're dealing with a highly skilled adversary who has effectively blinded us with his hacking."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Gordon's tone carried a note of admiration.

"Beautiful. Unethical. Dangerous," Alfred replied, his voice laced with conflicting emotions.

Gordon's response was measured and understood. "I share your concerns, Alfred. That's why I want you to make this decision. The technology's database is null-key encrypted, accessible by only one person."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, "This is too much power for one person."

Gordon nodded solemnly, "That's why I gave it to you."

"Spying on 23 million people isn't part of being a detective," Alfred responded, his tone firm.

Gordon's expression remained understanding. "Alfred, I'm not making this decision lightly. But I believe that if anyone can weigh the balance between justice and ethics, it's you."

The room was filled with silence as Alfred grappled with the dilemma presented before him. He understood the necessity of stopping L.L., yet the ethical consequences of employing this technology were undeniable.

Gordon's voice broke the silence, "Alfred, I've also received a piece of information that might influence your decision."

"When I activated the technology for the first time, it captured a conversation—your grandfather speaking to the Bounty Hunter Guild," Gordon revealed.

Alfred's eyes flicked to Gordon, curiosity evident in his gaze.

"Dalton had raised L.L.'s bounty to 10 million credits and requested direct intervention from The Maxim," Gordon continued.

Alfred's eyes widened with surprise, "He raised the bounty and invoked The Maxim's involvement?"

Gordon nodded. "Yes, and it was a direct communication from Dalton himself."

Gordon's revelation was like a ripple in the water, sending new waves of implications across Alfred's thoughts. Dalton's increased bounty and The Maxim's intervention added a layer of complexity to the situation.

"Alfred, if both groups are involved in the case, it's not just privacy at stake—it's the safety of the citizens as well. We can't afford to let the Bounty Hunter Guild or The Maxim destroy our city in the process," Gordon emphasized.

Alfred's gaze turned inward as he wrestled with the dilemma. He valued justice and order, but he also recognized the importance of respecting individual rights and the integrity of the city.

Gordon's voice was gentle yet steadfast. "Ultimately, the decision is yours, Alfred. I'll respect whatever choice you make."

As the gravity of the choice settled on Alfred's shoulders, he understood that this wasn't just a choice between ethics and expediency.

It was a decision that could shape the future of his city and the principles he held dear.

"I'll join the pursuit team. This technology and our efforts could help us track down L.L.’s location. If he talks within range of any citizen's terminal device in the city, we can triangulate his position," Gordon explained.

"When you're finished making your decision, type in your name," Gordon concluded, leaving Alfred alone with his thoughts as he stepped out of the truck.