[From Jevan's Perspective]
A whole week had passed, and Raven was still in his coma. A whole week of waiting. I never thought I'd worry about him this much, yet here I was, sitting by his bedside like an idiot. Every time I brought up the idea of moving him to a hospital, Iris would reply, always while fiddling with something in her hands or staring out the window:
"No need."
No need? It almost seemed like she wanted to use this chance to get rid of him. I buried my head in my hands and sighed in boredom, tapping my fingers slowly on the armrest of the chair. Then a movement from Raven caught my attention. I quickly raised my head and saw him slowly opening his eyes.
I grinned widely and said:
"Finally, Sleeping Beauty wakes up."
Raven blinked a few times before muttering:
"I didn't die?"
"Why? Were you hoping you did? Do you hate life that much?"
He didn't bother answering my sarcastic remarks. He just turned his head away and curled on the bed, trying to push himself into a sitting position. I watched him struggle in a pitiful attempt to get out of bed.
"Rest a little, you've been unconscious for almost a whole week."
"A week?" he repeated in disbelief.
Instead of taking my advice like any sane person, he twisted and turned on the bed, trying to get up faster. I rested my chin on my hand, watching him like it was some kind of play.
"What's the rush?"
I asked as I watched him stagger like an old man trying to escape a nursing home. Then I added:
"Don't worry, Garod gave me temporary leave when he heard about your condition."
Truth? I hadn't told Garod anything. Nor did I get any leave. But what's the point in bothering Raven with such small details now?
"Did you tell him what happened?"
"Don't worry, I told him you got into a little fight with some thugs."
"Are you an idiot? Garod would never believe such a stupid excuse."
"You still haven't told me why you're in such a rush to leave?"
"I have to turn myself in to the Overseers."
"Oh, that nonsense again. Relax, they've stopped investigating the incident."
"Stopped? Why? And how do you know that?"
"Iris told me. Apparently, an investigator from the Bureau has taken over the case, which forced the Overseers to back off."
I continued speaking while I lazily flipped a bronze coin between my fingers:
"So relax."
Not a second later, his face went pale, and he shouted:
"This is the end."
"Man, you're exaggerating. They're just police, right? All we need is to hand them a small bribe, and they'll leave us alone."
"You don't understand."
"If you don't want to pay, no problem. I saved up some money."
"No, you idiot! The Bureau doesn't take bribes!"
He took a deep breath, then continued:
"You can't bribe them, you can't trick them, you can't even negotiate with them."
"Come on, don't blow it out of proportion. There's no evidence, remember? The warehouse burned down completely."
That was me trying to reassure him. Though I knew the warehouse hadn't burned down completely. But instead of calming him, his words made me uneasy when he said:
"In this world, there are hundreds of ways to extract the truth."
I opened my mouth to reply, but then we heard knocking at the door. Raven shot me a half panicked look. I got up and walked down the hallway toward the door, placed my hand on the knob, unlatched it, and opened it. Standing before me were two men.
The first looked to be in his early forties: slicked back black hair, steel grey eyes, a long black coat, and a dark hat shading half his face. Beside him was a younger man, maybe in his early twenties, holding a small notebook, his eyes fixed on me sharply.
The younger one spoke first:
"We're from the Bureau of Investigation. We have a few questions we'd like to ask"
I didn't wait for him to finish. I shut the door in their faces, turned around, and walked back to the room, where Raven immediately asked:
"Who was it?"
"Investigators. From the Bureau."
"This is the end."
"What's wrong with you? Weren't you the same guy who smashed that burning merchant and was ready to turn yourself in to the Overseers without blinking an eye?"
"Dealing with gangs is simpler. If I had turned myself in back then, the story would've ended right there. But now… those investigators will come after me, after you, and after the surviving kids."
Why didn't you say that from the start? I would've handed you over to that gang myself. I sighed internally in frustration before asking:
"They won't break in, will they?"
"Do you think you're some citizen of the Upper District?"
Before I could answer, another round of knocks rattled the door, this time more urgent. Raven snapped his head toward me and asked sharply:
"Didn't you open the door?"
"I did. Then closed it in their faces."
"You idiot! Go open it before they break down the lock on our heads!"
I jumped up immediately and ran down the hall. The last thing I needed was paying for this old apartment's busted lock. That stingy landlord would charge me three times the cost of the door. I opened the door quickly, and the younger man glared at me, snapping:
"Why did you shut the door?"
I scratched the back of my head and said:
"The place needed some cleaning."
"Are you kidding us?"
Before things could escalate, the older man raised his hand and said:
"Now, will you let us in? We have a few questions to ask."
I gestured them in, muttering to myself:
"Please… as if today wasn't bad enough already."
…
Inside, I stood face to face with the investigators. The older man pulled two neatly folded sheets of paper from his coat, opened them, and held them in front of me.
"Do you know these two men?"
I stared at the sketches. The first I recognized instantly it was Raven, with his all too familiar ugly face. The second was of an unknown man, half his face scarred with deep burns. Still, his face looked better than Raven's. I had two options: deny knowing Raven or...
"Yes. I know this one. That's Raven, my roommate. As for the other, I don't know him. Never seen him before."
The older man put the papers away without comment. The younger one, scribbling notes in his little book, asked:
"And where is your roommate now?"
"I don't know. He left early this morning. Packed his stuff in a rush. Seemed like he was in a hurry. I tried asking where he was going, but he ignored me."
The senior investigator said nothing. I just stared back at them, keeping my face blank, praying they wouldn't notice I was lying. Then the older man's hand began to glow faintly grey, his expression cold as stone. He raised his hand to his chest and muttered:
"The First Law you cannot lie to me. From now on, every word from your mouth will be the truth and nothing but the truth."
He lifted the second sketch again and pointed to it.
"Now answer me. Do you know this man?"
I looked at the drawing again. His obscure features didn't stir any memory in me. Why would he think I'd know someone like this?
"I've never met him in my life."
I prayed with all my heart that the questioning would stop there. That they'd accept it, not ask about Raven, maybe even throw me a polite apology and leave. Was that too much to hope for?
But then what happened could only be called a miracle. The older investigator removed his hat, bowed, and with perfect courtesy said:
"We apologize for the disturbance."
He turned and left. The younger one, still visibly shocked, quickly followed. I just stood there, watching them walk away. No one had ever apologized to me neither in Jevan's body nor before. And now an investigator from the Bureau did?
But before I could sink deeper into thought, I felt something warm rising in my throat. I looked down drops of blood dripped from my mouth onto the floor. Then a sharp pain tore through my head. Blurred images pushed into my mind memories that weren't mine.
In one of them, a man with crimson hair and strange violet eyes stood before me. Then the scene shifted. The same red haired man lay in a pool of his own blood, motionless. Above him stood the scarred man with half a ruined face.
***
Investigator Edward Graves left Jevan's apartment, his long black coat swaying slightly as he walked. Right behind him was the young trainee, Lionel Gray, his curiosity written all over his face.
Lionel hesitated before asking, unable to hold back:
"Sir, why didn't you press him with more questions?"
Graves answered:
"I used the Law on him. He can't lie under its effect. And he said clearly he doesn't know anything about Valentine Crow."
Lionel frowned, then hurried to catch up with the inspector, asking:
"But maybe he knows something about Raven the man who destroyed the warehouse, right?"
Graves sighed and replied without looking back:
"He's far too ignorant. Just another piece of trash from the Lower District."
Then he turned to Lionel and asked:
"Did you check his background?"
Lionel nodded quickly, flipping open his notebook as he replied:
"It was hard to find accurate information about him. Like most people from the Lower District, he doesn't have an official record. All I managed to confirm is that about three weeks ago, he joined the Bloodfang gang as a low level recruit."
Graves asked:
"And the other man the water sword user we're after?"
Lionel flipped to another page before answering:
"His name is Raven. The information suggests he worked with Bloodfang for quite some time, and he's a high ranking member."
"Bloodfang, then? Seems we'll have to pay Garod another visit. He's the one who gave us this location."
"But why would he do that? Why give up one of his men so easily?"
"For ordinary gang leaders, that makes sense. Sacrifice one man to avoid the destruction of the whole gang. But Garod was never an ordinary leader. He'd rather die than betray his men."
Lionel lowered his head, deep in thought at the inspector's words, as the two of them carried on down the street.