TN: And we're back! sorry for the week long hiatus, it was not intentional since I had to get my right leg in a cast after tripping 3 floors down a stairwell (like an idiot ://) and be unable to use my PC setup upstairs BUT I should be OK now.
Anyways, Thanks for Arcanic Madness, WeissAkumu and WolfWTF for becoming as Supporters!,
===BREAK===
He did not hesitate for even a moment, nor did he have any intention of using public transportation. For the first time, the giant fully demonstrated just how fast a Space Marine without power armor could run.
He charged straight down the main traffic arteries, running shoulder to shoulder with countless motor vehicles. The black giant was like a black hurricane, tearing across the roads of New Eridu at terrifying speed.
Yet the drivers here seemed surprisingly calm. Seeing the giant, there was little panic—instead, some even applauded him and pointed toward the road signs at the intersection.
A humanoid with ears and a tail, enclosed in a red circle, crossed out by a diagonal slash.
So… running on the roadway was prohibited. Wait. Which meant… there really were Thiren who ran at full speed on public roads?
That strange realization briefly dissipated Ignis's fury, because he actually saw a girl with a delivery box sprinting down the street, even waving at him as she passed.
Judging by the shape of her ears… she seemed to be a Horse Thiren. Ah—she'd been spotted by Public Security motorcycle patrol, one officer chasing her down on a bike.
Watching the girl weave through traffic, Ignis felt a profound sense of unreality, as if everything were part of some absurd dream.
If only it really were a dream—then the terrible news he had just heard would be false.
But the roar of the wind in his ears, the pressure slamming against his face, all reminded him that this was no dream. That damned news was real.
Emile Volt—his little artist, his first friend in New Eridu outside of the Cunning Hares—had been taken away by people from Public Security.
The one who called him was Vesmir Forson. The slum-born catering magnate had recently begun cooperating with Public Security, installing surveillance cameras along nearby streets. He had also established a security company, taking on outsourced monitoring center operations for Public Security. Today was the very first day of operation.
And on that very first day, the footage captured this cursed scene.
At one in the morning, when the night market was at its liveliest and everyone's attention was on buying and selling, a group of people wearing Public Security uniforms stepped out of a seven-seater business van and headed straight into an alley. Not long after, Emile Volt was dragged out, bound tightly.
They didn't exit through the night market alley—too many people. Instead, they used another quiet, rarely used exit. If not for the newly installed surveillance equipment, no one would have known at all.
The footage had been caught by the camera's event recording function and only discovered during Vesmir's test playback.
Ignis wasn't very familiar with the inside of that alley. Those narrow passages between handshake buildings were extremely unfriendly to a broad-built Primaris Space Marine—far too cramped. Still, it was understandable that there were multiple exits. That area's architecture strongly resembled a Kowloon Walled City layout.
The black giant sprinted all the way back from the Vulcan Quarter, terrifying plenty of drivers along the way. Public Security motorcycle units even attempted to intercept him—but his speed was simply too great, and there was no way bikes could compete with a two-legged runner when it came to cutting through alleys and stairways.
By the time he reached his home, night had nearly fallen. Vesmir was waiting outside. Seeing the giant return, he immediately waved.
"Ignis!" the young boss called out. "Over here!"
The Salamander had already seen him. Perhaps because he'd attended an event today, Vesmir was wearing a tailored suit that fit him perfectly. The youth had completely escaped his former predicament—thanks to the night market he built with his own hands, his life was finally on the right track.
"What exactly happened?" Ignis stopped beside him.
"Just watch the footage," Vesmir said, wasting no words, immediately pulling out his phone and playing the video.
The timestamp showed 1:07 AM. A seven-seater van stopped at the entrance of a seldom-used alley. Five men in Public Security uniforms stepped out. Their movements were sloppy, their behavior strange. They formed a loose circle by the roadside and began smoking. Judging by their gestures, they were talking about something.
"Is there audio?" Ignis wanted to know what they were saying.
"No… no," Vesmir said awkwardly. "To speed up installation, I used equipment recommended by a local Public Security substation chief. Cameras with audio were too expensive…"
Damn those bloodsuckers. Ignis had no time to dwell on that. He focused on the footage.
"These people can't even walk straight."
They swayed left and right, spitting on the ground. While talking, they gestured animatedly, their expressions overly excited—distinctly abnormal.
Public Security, under the Urban Order Department, imposed strict discipline on officers, especially regarding conduct. Even Leonard Russo, who once tried to extort the Cunning Hares, wouldn't stand crookedly while spitting on the ground. When he tossed a cigarette butt and Firefly flicked it back and shattered his car window, he didn't dare pursue the matter—he just fixed the car himself.
Because throwing cigarette butts on private property and provoking retaliation was already a serious violation, a disgrace to Public Security.
Most of the officers Ignis had encountered were from the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team. Even when beaten half to death by Razor's men, exhausted and wounded, they would still force themselves to stand straight in front of others. Especially Seth Lowell—he left a deep impression on Ignis.
After enduring sustained machine-gun fire until his shield nearly collapsed, the man still raised his hand to salute through the pain. His arm trembled violently, yet the gesture remained precise—only after lowering it did his hand cramp.
Compared to them, these men smoking in a circle, even blowing smoke in each other's faces, were grotesquely out of line.
After finishing their cigarettes, they formed a loose formation and entered the alley. The sight made The Salamander bare his teeth—five people somehow managed to form three columns, crooked beyond belief.
"The alley's narrow, with tangled wiring everywhere," Vesmir explained quickly as they disappeared from view. "Camera placement is very limited. Fortunately, one covers Emile's doorway."
Ignis glanced at him. Vesmir avoided his gaze—clearly, this "fortunately" had been intentional.
Just no one expected something to happen on the very first test run.
Vesmir played another clip. The crooked officers staggered up to a door. The moment it opened, they rushed in together. After a few short yet agonizing seconds, Emile was dragged out, bound like a rice dumpling.
Though the video was silent, Ignis could hear his screams. Emile struggled violently, face turned toward his home—likely calling out to his parents. No one answered.
Four of them dragged him away. One stayed behind, speaking with someone inside. Soon after, that officer emerged carrying a heavy bag, cheerfully greeting the people inside before leaving.
Vesmir switched to the next clip. Emile was thrown into the van. Once the officer with the bag boarded, the vehicle sped off into the night.
The timestamp read 1:19 AM. From arrival to departure—twelve minutes total. Efficient. Clearly not their first time.
"At the time, we were all running stalls outside and didn't notice the shouting… After closing, I went to the Public Security substation. By the time I got any news, I was already calling you."
Vesmir looked deeply distressed. He had promised Ignis to help Emile—yet the boy was taken just this morning. He'd broken his word, and Emile was also a dear friend. The little artist's signage was a signature attraction of the night market. Many customers loved it—some even came specifically to see those unique signs.
"Send all of these videos to me," Ignis said. "I'll contact Jane Doe and ask her to help trace his whereabouts."
His voice trembled slightly as he fought to suppress his rage. His two hearts were pounding wildly, as if trying to tear free from his chest.
"Ignis… are you alright?" Vesmir asked anxiously.
He immediately sent the videos via Inter-Knot messaging. His benefactor's condition was genuinely frightening.
Ignis's facial muscles twisted with rage. His bloodshot eyes burned like furnaces, his chest heaving like a bellows. Vesmir felt as if the giant might breathe fire at any second.
"I… I'm trying to calm down," Ignis said, closing his eyes as countless questions churned in his mind.
Where were these officers from? Which branch or substation? Why was their conduct so undisciplined? Why were they so practiced at abducting someone? What was in that heavy bag taken from Emile's family? Why use a business van instead of standard Public Security vehicles? Where did they come from—and where did they go?
Each question needed answering. For now, Vesmir could answer one.
"Twelve minutes from arrival to departure. Fast. How far is Emile's home from the alley entrance?"
"About a five-minute walk."
"Then that speed is nearly the limit," Ignis said quietly. He was surprised—those alleys were labyrinthine, full of turns. Without intimate familiarity, such speed was impossible.
"Did you find Emile's parents?"
"No. After calling you, I stayed here. I had others check nearby cameras for more evidence—but only these clips turned up."
"So, the route was chosen deliberately." The sense of dread in Ignis's chest grew heavier.
Their methods were meticulous—every step calculated and rehearsed.
"Let's check his home," The Salamander said, jerking his chin at Vesmir. "Lead the way."
The increasingly affluent catering executive hadn't moved away; he still lived in this alley. He led The Salamander through the narrow, graffiti-covered passages. For Ignis, it was difficult—his massive frame filled the space. Handshake buildings, illegal extensions, overhead cables everywhere—it was a nightmare to navigate.
Many branches were too narrow for him, forcing detours. Fortunately, Emile's doorway was relatively wide.
Vesmir pounded on the door, calling Fritz's name repeatedly. No response. Through Fire-Sight, Ignis could still see residual heat signatures left by those misshapen officers.
He could also see Emile's frantic movements.
Tired of waiting, Ignis shoved Vesmir aside and punched straight through the thin polymer door, ripping it from the frame.
He bent low, forcing his way inside. The cramped room was pitch black—no one home. From fading heat traces, The Salamander determined that Fritz and his wife had left not long ago.
They'd spent time packing—then departed with heavy luggage.
"That shoebox…" Vesmir pointed. "That brand's expensive."
A luxury leather boot box lay on the floor, a big-name star grinning brightly on the packaging.
"I didn't think much of it at the time… these boots cost two hundred thousand Dennies," Vesmir muttered, moving it aside.
His phone buzzed. Unlocking it revealed another video from his subordinates.
Same camera outside Vesmir's home. Timestamp: one hour ago. Emile Volt's father, Fritz Volt, and his wife left their house, dragging two large suitcases.
They entered a luxury taxi that had been waiting in the garage of the Freyr residence.
"Vesmir, don't involve yourself further," Ignis said after a deep breath. "Focus on your life and your company. The women here rely on you. Emile's matter—I'll handle it."
Calm down. Untangle the threads. Find the key.
He told himself this, trying to extinguish the inferno in his chest.
With each heartbeat, blood pressure surged to his head, ears ringing, agitation mounting, the urge to roar overwhelming.
Finally, he couldn't hold it in. He swung his fist at a nearby cabinet.
BANG—!
Old clothes and clutter poured out like a landslide, crashing against his body before bouncing to the floor.
In the cloud of dust, Vesmir coughed violently.
===BREAK===
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