This was an office located on the top floor of the Great Library. Through the massive floor‑to‑ceiling windows, one should have been able to overlook the steam and bustle of all Port Alexandra —yet at this moment, the heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight. Only a single vintage desk lamp with a green shade cast a quiet halo of light.
The air was filled with the scent of aged paper, black tea, and a faint trace of lavender.
Miguel Wegenstadt all but burst into the room, carrying with him a palpable killing intent. His military boots landed on the soft Persian carpet with dull thuds, as though suppressing an anger ready to erupt at any moment. Ilo, who followed close behind, was visibly out of breath, having clearly struggled to keep pace with the former special‑operations soldier.
Behind the desk, a woman calmly closed the file in her hands.
She wore a dark blue dress tailored with precision, lace trimming the neckline. Her flaxen hair was loosely gathered at the back with a pearl hairpin, a few stray strands falling beside her ears, lending her an air of intellect and gentleness. Were it not for the metal insignia on her chest—symbolizing the highest level of administrative authority—it would have been difficult to associate her with "justice and order" in such a vast city.
"Director Victoria," Ilo stepped forward immediately, not even taking time to steady his breathing, his expression grave. "I apologize for interrupting your work, but the situation is urgent."
Victoria lifted her head. Her eyes, calm as the surface of a still lake, swept over the two of them before settling on Miguel's taut expression. Rather than showing irritation at the interruption, she gestured for them to sit, her voice gentle and steady.
"It seems we've run into some trouble?"
"More than just trouble," Ilo replied after drawing in a sharp breath, speaking rapidly. "I issued a highest‑priority missing‑person broadcast throughout the Library earlier—surely you heard it. After that, we followed the projected route and searched every likely location: the Postmodern Science Archive, restrooms, even blind corners of stairwells. But the result was nothing. No leads whatsoever."
"No leads at all?" Victoria frowned slightly.
"Yes. As if he evaporated into thin air," Ilo confirmed.
"This is absurd!" Miguel finally exploded. He slammed both hands onto the edge of the desk and leaned forward, the oppressive presence honed on battlefields instantly filling the room."A living person! Arran isn't a small component or a book—he's a human being! After going missing, why is there not a single witness?!"
He stared at Victoria, his voice hoarse with urgency.
"What kind of rules are you running here? If you can't find him, then tell me where I can report this! At least let me file a police report!"
"Calm down, Miguel," Ilo grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back. "Don't you understand? We are reporting it already."
Miguel froze and turned to Ilo, disbelief written all over his face.
"What?"
"I explained this to you on the way here," Ilo sighed, tapping the floor lightly with his foot."In Port Alexandra, the Great Library isn't merely a hall of knowledge. It is itself a combined judicial and law‑enforcement body. Director Victoria is also this city's chief of public security."
Miguel opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead only let out a sharp, irritated click of his tongue and released the desk.
Victoria did not take offense. She folded her hands atop the desk, her expression growing serious.
"Ilo, are you telling me that someone went missing inside our Library—without leaving behind even the faintest trace?"
"That's correct," Ilo said firmly, adjusting his monocle."I activated the rapid‑search protocol available to my clearance and reviewed all surveillance footage within fifteen minutes before and after Arran's disappearance. The result is clear: no one matching the missing person's build or attire exited the Library. In fact, there isn't even footage of anyone leaving that corridor."
Miguel muttered under his breath,"There's even surveillance… Well, I suppose with all your machines and robots…"
He was cut off by Ilo, whose expression had never been more severe.
"Do not interrupt my statement, special‑forces officer. Director—since the footage confirms the missing person never left the Library, the fact that the broadcast produced no response is extremely suspicious. If he were still inside, it would be impossible for him not to respond. Unless…"
Ilo paused, eyes sharp.
"I believe it is necessary to immediately seal the entire Library and conduct a full sweep."
Victoria tapped her fingers lightly on the desk, considering.
"Sealing the entire Library is a serious matter. We have over three thousand visitors today. A lockdown would cause widespread panic and immense public pressure. Ilo—are you certain this is necessary?"
"Yes," Ilo replied without hesitation."And I suspect this incident is connected to the recently circulating cases of missing outsiders."
Victoria's pupils contracted slightly.
"Do you have a concrete line of reasoning?"
"Put simply," Ilo raised a finger,"making a person vanish completely within surveillance blind spots is technically very difficult. Rather than attributing Arran's disappearance to some supernatural phenomenon, it is far more plausible to assume this was a premeditated crime. If two explanations can both make a person disappear, I am inclined to believe they belong to the same group—namely, the criminal syndicate lurking in the city's shadows, targeting rootless outsiders."
The office fell into brief silence.
A chill crept up Miguel's spine. If this were merely someone getting lost, there might still be hope. But if it was a targeted abduction…
"I understand."
Victoria stood. Her gentle demeanor was instantly replaced by decisive authority. She pressed a communication button on her desk, issuing commands in a cool, precise tone:
"This is Victoria. Effective immediately, the Great Library enters Level‑Two Alert. The facility will close temporarily for two hours. All entrances and exits are to be sealed—entry permitted, exit denied. Any movement of personnel or materials requires my written authorization. Security and the Data Center are to remain on full standby."
She lowered the communicator and turned to Miguel.
"The Great Library currently contains eighty reading rooms, thirty‑six laboratories, twenty offices, fifty sealed storage units, and an extensive underground pipe network. A full search will take time—but I assure you, our staff will cooperate fully, unidentified special‑operations officer."
Miguel straightened, his voice low and steady.
"My name is Miguel Wegenstadt. Just call me Miguel."
"Very well, Miguel," Victoria nodded."I am Victoria Alischi. You may call me Victoria. And Ilo—"
She turned to the boy.
"Go and fetch our detective consultant. If this truly involves the missing‑outsider cases, we cannot allow this investigation to be delayed."
"That… detective consultant?" Ilo blinked, then his expression shifted into a mix of anticipation and resignation."You mean… the gentleman who's been sitting here this whole time?"
Miguel followed their gaze, confused.
Only then did he realize—there had been someone seated in the shadowed corner of the spacious office all along.
A high‑backed leather armchair faced away from the door. One foot in a worn leather shoe rested casually on a footstool, swinging gently to an unseen rhythm.
"Well then," a lazy, gravel‑tinged male voice drawled from behind the chair,"since no one has the patience to wait any longer, shall we begin reasoning? Though my key assistant is still on the way."
As the chair slowly turned, a disheveled middle‑aged man came into view. He wore a wrinkled trench coat, his tie hanging loose, stubble shadowing his jaw, hair looking as though it had just survived a typhoon. He held a classic pose—elbow on the armrest, head supported by one hand, fingers together, thumb and index finger slightly apart beneath his chin. His gaze seemed unfocused, yet sharp as a blade.
Miguel stared.
"Wait—who are you? You've been here the whole time?"
"Me?" The man raised an eyebrow and yawned. "I'm a detective."
"…That's it?" Miguel waited, then realized the man wasn't continuing.
"That's it," the man said naturally, spreading his hands. "Do you feel something's missing?"
"Your name!" Miguel felt himself nearing insanity."And we're talking about a life‑or‑death situation—you—"
"Sigh. Even if you knew my name, the outcome wouldn't change," the man said, standing and stretching."Call me Frank. Frank Miller. And as for life‑or‑death… if we don't hurry, it very well could become that."
He walked to the large map of Port Alexandra, eyes roaming across it as he spoke without turning back.
"Let me start with my conclusion. Miguel, and the two of you—the unlucky fellow named Arran is not currently inside this Library."
"What?!" Miguel stepped forward."But the surveillance shows he never left! Ilo said so—unless he can turn invisible!"
"That's simply basic proof by contradiction," Frank replied, leaning against the map stand and pulling an unlit cigarette from his pocket—only to sheepishly put it away under Victoria's glare."If he were still here, why hasn't he appeared by now? The entire Library is in an uproar over him. Broadcasts blaring, security running everywhere. Unless he collapsed in an absolute dead zone, or…"
"Or someone hid him!" Miguel snarled."They're waiting for things to calm down before moving him. That's why we have to seal the place!"
"The first part makes sense," Frank said, wagging a finger."The second doesn't. If the kidnappers already subdued him unnoticed, knowing full well the Great Library is a law‑enforcement body, do you think they'd 'wait patiently'—or choose the classic option of cutting their losses and escaping immediately?"
"But the footage doesn't show Arran being taken out!" Ilo argued."No crates, no group carrying a person—nothing. Unless he's already been… dismembered?"
"Don't jump to conclusions," Frank waved it off."No grudge, no fortune on him. That mechanic doesn't look like a worthwhile target for elaborate murder. Their objective is usually the living person."
"Then…?"
"Simple." Frank snapped his fingers."He was smuggled out inside something."
"Something?"
"Something obvious, commonplace, and utterly unsuspected."
Ilo frowned."Bulk book shipments require strict inspection. A person couldn't be hidden in a book crate. And Arran—though slim—wouldn't fit."
"Who said anything about book crates?" Frank grinned slyly.
"Then what could possibly hold a living person and exit unnoticed?" Ilo asked, baffled.
Miguel didn't fully understand, but he caught the glint in Frank's eyes—the look of a hunter spotting tracks.
"Ever heard of hiding in plain sight?" Frank chuckled, glancing between Victoria and Ilo."The most ideal transport device is the very pride of your Library—the so‑called marvels of intelligence. Those metal lumps sliding through your corridors, with bellies big enough to carry a boat, are perfect for transporting humans."
"You mean… robots?!" Ilo's eyes widened."But their interiors are filled with complex components and mechanisms—there's no space for—ah!"
He suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth, as if struck by lightning.
"Looks like you've figured it out," Frank nodded in satisfaction.
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Miguel demanded.
Ilo explained, pale‑faced:
"Miguel—our guide and service robots have large shells, but they're packed with automated core components. If someone removed those expensive modules and replaced them with manual controls—or left the shell hollow—then the robot's 'belly' would have enough space to hide an adult human."
"So Arran was stuffed inside a robot and walked out?" Miguel felt a chill.
"Not necessarily walking himself," Frank added."Could be remote control. Could be follow mode. Either way—it's a perfect Trojan Horse."
Victoria finally spoke.
"Frank, your reasoning is compelling. But what evidence supports it? We can't accuse without proof."
"The proof is in your system," Frank pointed to the terminal."I hear your robots have a periodic 'heartbeat system'—automatic signals sent back to headquarters?"
"Yes," Victoria nodded."To track operational zones and prevent loss or malfunction."
"Then the first thing a criminal would do is remove that system," Frank smiled."I asked a librarian friend in charge of communications to compare robot heartbeat data with actual entry‑exit logs. The results should be coming in any moment."
A knock sounded. A young librarian burst in, drenched in sweat, clutching a stack of printouts.
"Director Victoria! Detective Frank!" he gasped."We found it! We compared surveillance counts of robots exiting the Library with backend heartbeat signals. The result is—three extra robots!"
"Three?" Miguel's pupils shrank.
"Yes. Three robots exited, but no heartbeat signals were received. Meaning—they were 'dead,' or modified."
"Three," Frank stroked his stubble, eyes turning cold."Looks like there may be other victims. Or perhaps the perpetrators used the same method to infiltrate and escape. Either way—trace those three robots, and we're close."
Miguel grabbed Frank's shoulder.
"Where are they? Can you locate them?"
"With the heartbeat gone, no direct tracking," Frank shrugged."But as long as they're moving, they'll leave traces. And…"
He glanced at the wall clock.
"This case is bigger than I thought. Needle‑in‑a‑haystack work isn't my specialty—but my assistant excels at it."
"That assistant again?" Miguel frowned."You've mentioned him before. Is it really okay he hasn't shown up yet?"
"By now, he should be here," Frank said casually."He wouldn't have stopped on the way to eat something fragrant, would he? For him, appetite sometimes beats deduction."
He straightened his collar and headed for the door.
"In any case, let's move to the rendezvous point. Since Victoria has sealed the Library, as long as they're still in the harbor district, I'll dig them out."
Miguel and Ilo exchanged a look. Doubts lingered, but they had no better option and followed quickly.
"Detective Frank," Victoria called from behind."If this truly involves those people… please be careful. You know they're not ordinary kidnappers."
Frank waved without turning.
"Don't worry. Everything inside the Library is already a fish in a barrel. Even if something unexpected happens, your librarians can handle it. As for outside…"
He glanced back with a grin.
"That's my stage—and Miguel's."
Meanwhile, in a hidden underground facility far from the bustling center of Port Alexandra...
Dim yellow lights flickered among rusted pipes. The air stank of machine oil, mold, and faint blood.
Two guide robots lay dismantled in a corner, shells pried open to reveal empty cavities.
At an operating table nearby, Arran and two other unconscious individuals were strapped down. Arran's face was pale, brow tightly furrowed, as though trapped in a nightmare.
Two voices whispered in the shadows.
"The stimulant's been administered. They'll regain consciousness soon," one voice rasped, like metal scraped on sandpaper."But… are you sure this is right? That soldier doesn't look like the type who'll cooperate easily."
"No problem," the other voice replied—younger, fervent."Despite the humiliation of abduction, despite being dragged here, these 'kind‑hearted' bookworms—especially that mechanic with his unhealthy love for machines—won't stand by and let Unit No. 4 die."
The voice paused, tinged with twisted compassion.
"After all… that's a real human life."