Chapter 106: Axel’s Pressure

Axel Vance looked at the two men before him, both figures he remembered as terrifying killers from stories and films in his previous life. Yet now Hannibal Lecter and John Kramer were calmly discussing cooperation with him against a greater threat. After a brief silence, Axel gave them his answer. “I don’t need to join your organization. What I need is intelligence.”

Jigsaw’s expression shifted slightly, but Axel continued before anyone could interrupt. “Our relationship stays simple: you have people and information channels throughout Miami, while I can handle threats your people can’t confront directly. You find the cult’s people, gather everything useful about them, and contact me whenever you’re preparing to move.”

Axel stepped closer to the table and met John’s sharp gaze without hesitation. “You dig the rats out of their holes and give me their information. When something supernatural stands between you and the target, that becomes my problem.” His tone made it clear that he was not asking for membership or permission; he was setting the boundaries of cooperation.

Hannibal’s smile deepened as though Axel had responded exactly as expected. John remained silent for several seconds, apparently reassessing the man in front of him before finally nodding. “Very well. Those terms are acceptable.”

There was little reason for John to argue when both sides gained something they lacked. His organization had manpower, informants, and the willingness to pursue people ordinary authorities struggled to reach, but supernatural enemies remained outside their normal capabilities. Axel, meanwhile, had repeatedly proven that such threats could be confronted directly.

Axel was not finished. “There’s one more thing. Before I trust your intelligence network, I want proof that it’s actually as good as you claim.”

Clarice glanced toward him, already sensing where this was going. John merely asked, “What do you want?” Axel replied, “This afternoon I incapacitated around twenty armed men at the abandoned cannery on Seagull Road. By tomorrow morning, I want their names, identities, backgrounds, and who they were working for.”

Clarice’s expression tightened. Through ordinary law-enforcement channels, identifying and connecting that many low-level gunmen overnight would be extremely difficult, especially when the organization behind them specialized in disappearing. Axel’s demand was more than a request for information; it was a test of whether Jigsaw’s people could actually keep pace with the kind of pressure Axel intended to create.

The room fell quiet again as John studied him. He did not bargain, complain about the deadline, or ask for more time. After only a brief pause, he nodded. “Deal.”

That was the answer Axel wanted. “Good. I’ll wait for your information.” He turned and walked toward the door without lingering, leaving Clarice momentarily surprised before she quickly followed him out.

Once the door closed behind them, Hannibal rose gracefully from his chair and poured himself a glass of water. Taking a small sip, he looked toward John with open amusement. “Well, Mr. Kramer? Are you satisfied with the man I recommended?”

John did not answer immediately. His aged face showed both appreciation and caution as he looked toward the door Axel had just passed through. “He is very different from us. We construct elaborate tests around pain, fear, and the value of life, but he has no need for those rituals.”

John turned his wheelchair slightly toward the dark window. “He possesses the ability and conviction to act directly when he decides something must be done. We build the hunting ground and force people into it, while Axel is simply a hunter.”

Hannibal gave a quiet laugh and leaned against the table. “And isn’t that precisely what we are missing?” John did not answer, but the silence was enough.

Outside, Clarice started the sedan almost immediately, clearly eager to put some distance between herself and the gloomy building. She remained tense until they merged back into the brighter traffic of the main road, then finally looked toward Axel. “You were reckless in there. Those men are dangerous, and you walked in and started giving them demands.”

Axel leaned comfortably against the passenger seat. “That was the point. If they can’t handle one difficult intelligence request, then they aren’t useful enough for me to cooperate with.” He looked toward Clarice and added, “I’m not trying to become their friend. I’m trying to solve a problem.”

Some of the tension left Clarice’s face, although she still looked troubled. Axel watched her for a moment before continuing, “And stop treating the FBI’s current position like the entire Bureau has turned against you. An organization that large is never one single mind.”

Clarice kept her eyes on the road as Axel explained his reasoning. “Right now, someone with influence is suppressing the investigation because the cult has enough power to make people nervous. But if you produce results that can’t be ignored, other people inside the Bureau will see those results as an opportunity.”

He kept his tone calm and practical. “They need successful cases, and they need agents who can solve problems nobody else can. If you become the person who breaks this case open, you stop being an isolated junior agent people can quietly push aside.”

Clarice’s hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel, but this time it was not from anxiety. For weeks she had thought only about resisting pressure from above, never considering that success itself could change her position. Axel’s words gave her another way to view the situation.

She had felt as though she was fighting an institution alone, but perhaps the institution was not as unified as it appeared. If she could prove her value with undeniable results, the same people who currently ignored her might suddenly have reasons to support her. The thought gradually cleared some of the exhaustion that had been hanging over her.

“I understand,” Clarice said after a while. She took a slow breath, and some of the determination Axel remembered from their earlier work returned to her expression. “Thank you, Axel.”

Axel smiled faintly but did not make a big deal of it. He turned back toward the passing lights outside the window, allowing the conversation to end there. Clarice did not need another lecture; she only needed to remember why she had started fighting this case in the first place.

It was already late when Axel finally returned to the old mansion outside Miami. The moment he stepped through the front door, he saw Doug waiting quietly in his wheelchair beside the living-room sofa. Several dogs rested around him, including the Husky that had led Axel to the abandoned factory, a German Shepherd, and a Golden Retriever.

The dogs raised their heads when Axel entered but made no sound. They watched him with calm attention before relaxing again, almost like disciplined guards recognizing someone they already trusted. Doug himself still looked pale, though his condition had clearly improved since leaving the cannery.

“You’re back,” Doug said with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Mr. Vance. You got me out of that place, and you made sure the police understood that I was a victim instead of treating me like one of the people who imprisoned me.”

Axel walked over and sat near him, casually rubbing the Husky’s head as the dog leaned into his hand. “You don’t owe me anything. We’re allies now.” Doug nodded slowly, gratitude and determination mixing in his expression.

“My family is ready,” Doug said. His gaze moved toward the dogs gathered around him before returning to Axel. “From now on, every stray dog in Miami can become your eyes and ears.”

[Community Goals Ongoing]