Chapter 30:
Alex sat quietly in his office, steam curling from the cup in his hands. The mug shimmered slightly—an item he'd once summoned, known as the Random Mug. Each pour brought a new flavor. Today, it tasted like toasted hazelnut with a hint of citrus.
He took a sip and exhaled, "Man… I missed this coffee."
His eyes drifted down to his leg—the one he'd lost. The stub, once raw and mangled, now showed signs of healing. Slowly, surely, the tissue was regenerating. The Verdant Maw was working. The root heart was rebuilding what had been taken, though at its own mysterious pace. He could almost feel the veins knitting together beneath the skin.
Despite everything, he was back at work.
He leaned forward at the desk, files scattered before him. The city was restless. Mangled creatures—mutated dogs, twisted raccoons, feral birds with glowing eyes—were starting to appear with increasing frequency.
Every hero, every officer, even volunteers, were on edge. Patrols had doubled.
He had already dispatched Zipline and Ghostfang on high-alert search missions—both were scouring the districts where mutated sightings had spiked. Specifically, they were hunting for the man-creature, the twisted being who once called Alex his hero.
Meanwhile, Alex stayed on the comms, coordinating with Kian and Eagleeye. Their current focus: animal control sweeps. Not every mutated animal was hostile, but most had become unpredictable. A few had even attacked civilians.
Alex rubbed his temples. The pressure hadn't let up, not since the sewers. The scent of burning roots still lingered in his mind.
But he was calm now.
Alive.
And the war had only begun.
____
The door to Alex's office creaked open. Yurei stepped in, her usual calm expression tightened with concern.
"Bad news, Alex."
Alex looked up from the files, already feeling the weight of her words. "What happened?"
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. "Headquarters is sending an Evaluator."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Another one? We just had Jacob Dell."
"This one's… different," she said, her tone dropping. "Bad news kind of different. He's got a reputation—massive ego, vindictive streak. Word is, they're not just sending him to evaluate. They're sending him to undermine us."
Alex frowned. "Undermine? Why?"
Yurei stepped closer, arms crossed. "Because we're doing too well."
"What?"
"Ever since you summoned the Verdant Neurospore… since the new heroes joined… since you've been operating like this—crime rates have dropped across the board. The private agencies have cut back on shady work, and criminals are being caught before they even act. It's like the whole city shifted."
Alex didn't respond, letting the silence fill the room.
Yurei continued, her voice quiet but firm. "Headquarters suspects we're forging the good reports. They think it's too good to be true. So they're sending someone to dig. Not just evaluate. Dig."
Alex leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. "So instead of celebrating the results… they're questioning them."
"That's bureaucracy," Yurei said. "You scare them, Alex. We all do. But especially you."
____
Late evening cast a golden hue through the agency windows. Every daytime-duty dispatcher had been summoned for a mandatory meeting.
The conference room was unusually silent as they filed in—Josh, Alex, and the others settling into their seats, unsure of what to expect.
At the head of the room, sprawled across the main chair like he owned the place, sat a man with his feet propped casually on the polished table. He was tossing an ice ball into the air, catching it lazily over and over again.
His smirk was sharp, almost rehearsed. Arrogant.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly—not metaphorically. Literally.
"Evening, everyone," the man said with theatrical confidence, flicking the ice ball one last time before letting it dissolve in his palm. "Name's Valerian Blade. But you might know me better by my hero title—Whiteout."
He leaned forward, eyes scanning the room like a predator examining its prey.
"Let's keep it simple. I'm the Evaluator sent by HQ. I'm here to see if this place is as clean as it looks…" he let the silence stretch just long enough to make people uncomfortable, "...or if someone's just very good at hiding the dirt."
Josh narrowed his eyes. Alex kept his expression neutral but already felt the tension thickening in the air.
Whiteout was here, and he wasn't just evaluating.
He was hunting.
Whiteout's gaze swept across the room—but when his eyes briefly landed on Alex and Josh Dell, there was a flicker of something sharper. Interest? Suspicion? It passed too quickly to tell.
He leaned forward again, fingers steepled, and let his voice cut through the silence like frost.
"Now that introductions are done… let's talk about integrity. About honesty. About what it actually means to be a dispatcher in a city like this."
He began pacing slowly.
"One misjudged deployment can get a hero killed. One sloppy report can let a criminal slip through. One misplaced ego…" he glanced again at Josh, just for a heartbeat, "...can topple a unit."
Then, like a magician pulling cards from nowhere, he pointed—seemingly at random—at a dispatcher near the back. "You. When's the last time you cross-verified a hero's compatibility with the incident location?"
The dispatcher stammered, caught off-guard.
Another point. "You. What protocol did you skip on your last high-risk item retrieval? Don't lie. I read the report."
And another. "You. What would you have done differently in the East Sector breakout three weeks ago?"
One by one, the dispatchers were tested—and as sharp as his tone was, his questions were sharper. Surgical. He knew every mission, every name, every report.
Despite the cockiness, the room couldn't deny it: Whiteout wasn't just here to posture. He knew his work.
Just then, the door opened.
Yurei stepped in, flanked by two towering presences. The Mayor and the Chief of the Government Hero Agency.
Without a word, Valerian stepped aside from the main seat, smiling with just a hint of smirk, and gestured politely. "Of course."
The Mayor sat down with quiet authority. The Chief took the seat next to him.
All eyes turned forward.
The real meeting was about to begin.
The room had just begun to settle under the Mayor's presence when Valerian—still standing confidently near the table—threw another ice ball.
This time, it was aimed directly at Alex.
Gasps echoed across the room. But before anyone could react—
A thin, glistening vine snapped out of Alex's collar, intercepting the ice ball mid-air. It caught it gently, as if plucking a fruit from a branch, and lowered it into Alex's hand with eerie care.
Alex didn't flinch. He just looked down at the icy sphere now resting in his palm.
The room froze.
Valerian's grin widened. "Cute trick."
He turned back to the room, his tone sharpening.
"I've read the reports. About the man-creature. About the Neurospore. About mind-controlling items, parasitic roots, merged artifacts…" He paused and dramatically looked around. "And it got me thinking—how can any of you be sure Alex Thorne isn't being controlled himself?"
He gestured toward Alex with a sweeping hand. "He has access to restricted files. He commands heroes directly. His 'team' just passed an evaluation that most veterans would sweat over. He's changing. Or… being changed."
Yurei stiffened.
Her fingers twitched slightly by her side—those trained eyes scanning Alex like she was trying to see inside his mind. She opened her mouth to speak—
—but the Chief of the Government Hero Agency slammed a hand on the table.
"That's enough!" he barked, voice laced with fury. "Accusations like that without evidence? You're not here to create suspicion and chaos, Blade. Watch your mouth."
Valerian raised his hands, mockingly apologetic. "Just asking questions. Isn't that what evaluations are for?"
All heads turned to the Mayor, who had remained quiet through it all. His fingers were steepled beneath his chin, his eyes on Valerian like one might look at a reckless child smashing glass.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm—but icy cold.
"Whiteout. You're an evaluator, not a conspiracy theorist. If you can't tell the difference between paranoia and protocol, we'll remind you which you were hired for."
Valerian's smirk faltered—for just a second.
Then he stepped back and sat down at the side table, crossing his arms.
"Of course, Mayor. Just doing my job."
The room exhaled.
Alex sat silently, the ice ball still in his palm slowly melting. His fingers curled around it.
No words spoken—but behind his calm eyes, his thoughts were a storm.
[End of Chapter]