The entire office was silent—so silent that even the hum of the air conditioner felt loud. Nobody moved, nobody breathed too deeply. Every senior officer in the room sat stiff, eyes lowered, waiting.

The door opened.

Thomas walked in with a heavy, unreadable expression. His usually calm face was tight with anger. He didn't greet anyone, didn't nod, didn't blink. He simply walked to his seat, sat down, and looked around slowly.

The air tightened.

"I am highly disappointed in all of you," Thomas said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. "How can this even be possible? Eh?"

Nobody replied. They couldn't. The pressure in his tone alone was enough to choke the room.

Thomas picked up a thick brown envelope and dropped it hard on the table. Papers scattered—lab reports, formulas, lists, evidence, timelines. Some pages slid all the way to the edge of the long conference table.

"Look at this," he snapped. "For FOUR years—FOUR YEARS—this was happening. Under your watch. Under this department. And none of you caught it?"

Heads bent lower. Some officers clenched their fists. Others held their breath.

"You claim to be inspectors?" Thomas continued. "You claim to run background checks? Random tests? Surprise inspections?"

He pointed sharply at the left side of the table.

"What were YOU doing?!"

No answer.

Then he pointed at the right side.

"And YOU? What were you monitoring?"

Still silence.

His voice rose with real frustration. "How can people be using enhancement drugs, passing through the system, and NONE of you detect a thing? Eh? When did this department become blind?"

Nobody dared defend themselves.

Thomas had always been respectful, even to older officers. Younger than most of them, yet more disciplined, more competent. But when it came to drug-related negligence, he changed completely. Right now, none of them wanted to be anywhere near his anger.

He exhaled sharply and wiped a hand across his face.

"You all scream of incompetence and laziness," he said. "Just pray that NONE of you are connected to this mess. Because if I find even a trace linking any of you—knowing, helping, looking away—I will follow you to the end of the world."

The threat was real. Everyone knew it.

"Now," Thomas said, straightening, "I will divide you into units. We will run emergency checks on every coach and athlete linked to this evidence. Each team will go to different training centers. Collect fresh samples. Seize ANY suspicious substances. And bring everything straight to the lab."

The moment he finished, the room finally moved. Chairs scraped as people stood. Teams gathered quickly, receiving assignments and hurriedly organizing themselves. Thomas watched them silently, his jaw still tight.

But the moment the officers left the conference room…

His work was only beginning.

***

Dayo just got off the phone with Max and he just informed him that Thomas called an emergency meeting with all the staff Dayo nodded.

He dialed Alice.

She picked on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"It's time," Dayo said calmly. "Tell your friends to post everything."

Alice blinked. "Already? That fast?"

"Yes. Once the agency sees the evidence, the media needs to see it too. No room for burying it."

Alice sighed. "You really don't waste time, do you?"

"I don't plan to."

"Alright. I'll call them."

"And Alice…" Dayo added. "Make sure they double-check everything before posting. Nothing must be wrong."

She smiled a little. "Relax. I trust you. I already reviewed the files earlier. Everything is clean. But… the names aren't revealed."

"They'll come out soon," Dayo said. "Trust me."

"Okay. Let me call them."

She ended the call and immediately dialed one of her journalist friends.

"Hey, baby girl… yeah, it's me. Drop everything you're doing. It's time. Post it."

The girl on the other end screamed in excitement.

"Say less!"

Within minutes, the story hit the internet.

***

By the time the first batch of senior officials stepped outside the building to begin their field assignments, they froze.

The parking lot was filled with media vans.

Reporters everywhere.

Cameras flashing.

Microphones raised.

News drones hovering overhead.

Everyone shouting at once:

"SIR, IS IT TRUE ATHLETES HAVE BEEN USING ENHANCEMENTS?"

"HAS USADA BEEN FAILING FOR YEARS?"

"WHAT IS THE AGENCY HIDING?"

"HOW MANY ATHLETES ARE INVOLVED?"

Officers turned pale.

The news hadn't even left the building—yet somehow the entire media world was already here.

Thomas stepped out last.

The moment he appeared, at least twenty microphones pushed toward him. Cameramen swarmed closer.

"Mr. Thomas! Please answer!"

"What is your agency's response?"

"We have reports of a four-year drug cover-up—can you confirm?"

"Sir! Sir! Sir!"

Thomas raised a hand. His expression was exhausted but firm.

"First of all, I want to apologize to the general public for the shock and concern this situation has caused."

The reporters went quiet, waiting.

"However," Thomas continued, "right now, we cannot afford delays or distractions. We are in the middle of a critical internal operation. We will hold an official press conference and address all questions soon. For now, please allow us to do our jobs."

"WHEN IS THE PRESS CONFERENCE?" a reporter yelled.

"Later today," Thomas replied.

Security quickly stepped in, creating a barrier and guiding the press back. Reporters kept flashing cameras but respected the space.

Thomas exhaled deeply and signaled his officers to move.

***

Inside the agency, the building was in chaos.

Phones ringing nonstop.

Officers running from office to office.

Printers spitting out reports.

Lab technicians preparing emergency test kits.

Supervisors shouting instructions across hallways.

Folders, sample boxes, and new testing equipment were packed into vans. Names of athletes and coaches were being read out loud. Doors slammed, radios buzzed, vehicles revved up.

The entire agency felt like it was on fire.

Thomas entered the lab wing.

"Begin retesting immediately," he ordered. "I want fresh samples analyzed with the new formula I gave you."

"Yes, sir!"

Everything was moving fast—but not fast enough. Thomas's jaw remained tight. If this wasn't handled right, the entire agency could collapse under public anger.

****

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