"Snatch That Boy Over."

"Seize that Boy."

While it was mid-afternoon in the Congo of the Southern Hemisphere, Moscow, located on the Eastern European Plain, was shrouded in the dead of night.

As the capital of Russia, Moscow is one of the most populous cities in Europe, with approximately fourteen million residents, and it is also a city that never sleeps.

It is not just the standard tourist attractions that draw visitors from all over the world; the red-light districts, permeated with a pink-hued allure, are also packed to the brim, as bars, nightclubs, and strip clubs are ubiquitous there.

Walking along the streets, one could hear the low, rhythmic thumping of music.

One could also see numerous women dressed in overly revealing outfits standing in front of their respective establishments, either blowing kisses to passersby or directly reaching out to solicit customers.

The sex industry has a deep historical foundation in Europe, especially in countries like the Netherlands, Germany, and Switzerland, where attitudes toward it are quite tolerant—it would be no exaggeration to say it is in full bloom, and it even makes a significant contribution to the local economy.

Although Russian officials maintain a stance of explicit prohibition, the reality is one of helplessness, and red-light streets and brothels continue to emerge one after another.

In a red-light district with such high population turnover, violence and chaos are bound to breed; however, the criminal organizations that control these industries have effectively replaced the Russian authorities, becoming the true "law enforcement" power.

The deterrent force of the gangs, combined with the enforcement methods of the Russian authorities, keeps these red-light districts in a stable balance that is difficult to break unless a major incident occurs.

At this moment.

Three taxis arrived one after another in the Krasno District, a hub for red-light activities.

Immediately following, eight tourists dressed in casual clothes with sturdy builds stepped out of the cars.

The leader wore a Miami-style shirt and shorts, topped with a cowboy hat, and had a cigar clamped between his teeth.

"Hoo~" Exhaling a puff of smoke and surveying his surroundings, the leader exclaimed loudly, "Boys, we're here to have a good time today! Hahaha! Let's go, let's go hunting!"

"I can't wait!"

"Look at you, you have no self-control!"

"I heard the girls around here are quite spicy—can you handle it?"

"Hahaha!"

The group chimed in one after another, laughing and joking with their arms around each other's shoulders as they headed toward the most bustling area.

And guys like them, traveling in groups to experience the local "customs," were countless in the Krasno District.

However, two of the eight men had rather cold expressions.

In truth, their real identities were elites from the ARS First Company, as well as Universal Soldiers who had completed their final adjustments and were officially put into "service."

The "vacationing cowboy" leading them was none other than Arthur Morgan, and they had only one goal for this trip: to seize Soldier Boy.

To deflect suspicion that this operation was organized by Atlas, and to make a big enough splash to stop Vought from expanding recklessly, Arthur and his team used real, "legal" identities to fly to Moscow via commercial airline before taking taxis to the Krasno District.

As for the two Universal Soldiers, after multiple adjustments and tests by Alexia's team, they had participated in several combat missions over the past six months, and all their metrics were up to standard.

Their programmable brains allowed the Universal Soldiers to perfectly execute infiltration, assassination, and reconnaissance missions, while friend-or-foe identification was achieved through data chips implanted in the bodies of Atlas personnel.

At the same time, Alexia's team had implanted a vast array of everyday life scenarios into the Universal Soldiers' brains, adding numerous response patterns to help them blend into crowds more effectively when carrying out infiltration missions.

Among their few shortcomings was an inability to display complex facial expressions, which made them seem stiff and cold, but paired with their muscular builds, no one found it strange—they were simply perceived as men not to be trifled with.

Coming to the red-light district was, naturally, not for "leisure," but to rendezvous with an investigator who had been stationed locally for years.

Before long, they arrived at a nightclub with a rather classical facade and dutifully joined the queue.

Although the greeters at the door were a group of charming women, with security personnel in suits and ties—not bothering to hide the holsters under their arms—standing by, no one dared to cause trouble, and Arthur's team had no desire to attract attention either.

It took several minutes before it was their turn.

"Handsome~" A woman dressed in a classical style, but wearing an ultra-short skirt and a crop top, batted her eyelashes at Arthur and asked in a voice with a Russian accent, "Are you here for drinks, dancing, or... special services~?"

"Do you even have to ask? Boys! Which one is it?!"

"Woo-hoo~!"

"Understood~ hehe~, please follow me." Hearing the howling response, the woman covered her mouth and chuckled before leading Arthur and his men into the nightclub.

Unlike the High Heel Club that Leon had frequented, the interior here was exquisitely decorated, with dim lighting that set the mood perfectly.

Arriving at the dance floor, one could see women deliberately dressed in the style of the Tsarist era performing energetically on stage.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

The main stage would even spray jets of flame in time with the music to adjust the atmosphere, causing the men and women gathered there to cheer, dance, and spend money even more enthusiastically.

The bar was also packed with people, sipping high-proof spirits while admiring the graceful figures.

Numerous private rooms were set up around the stage; as for what kind of services were offered inside, one would have to experience it personally. Arthur and his team followed the woman straight through the dance floor area to a staircase leading to the second floor.

Once they had all gone upstairs, the muscular men guarding the sides crossed their arms, blocking the staircase with their bodies, and one of them casually placed an "Occupied" sign in front of them.

Not long after.

On the second floor of the nightclub.

Inside a secret conference room that could only be accessed through a hidden door.

Arthur and the others had long since shed their previous air of debauchery, sitting on folding chairs with solemn expressions as they watched the satellite overhead view displayed on the projection screen.

The young woman who had led them there had also changed into casual attire, standing at the front of the conference room to provide a briefing.

While this nightclub appeared to be a gang-run establishment, it was actually an investigative outpost that Sui Yang had planted in Moscow during the height of the chaos following the collapse of the Soviet Union; it was one of many safe houses that allowed Atlas to secretly conduct military operations throughout Eastern Europe.

Furthermore, this nightclub had managed to achieve a certain degree of "self-sufficiency," and after deducting the necessary expenses for greasing the palms of local gangs and officials, it still generated a surplus of 1.5 to 1.5 million dollars annually.

At this moment.

"Gentlemen, your weapons and equipment have been prepared in advance according to your requirements. Would you like me to go over the architectural blueprints of the Ruff Research Center and the security patrol routes around the facility once more?"

As the female investigator's voice faded, all the Hunters, including the two Universal Soldiers, signaled their understanding with silence.

Seeing this, Arthur spoke up: "Tell your combat personnel to prepare to raid the facility with us. We depart in two hours; we're going to snatch that boy before daybreak."

"Understood."