Inside a dilapidated room within the police headquarters—where a decaying wooden desk sat in the center and, to its right, a bookshelf filled with torn, worn-out books—the place looked just as miserable as the rest of the building, which shared none of the appealing appearance shown on the outside.
The door swung open as Anastasia entered, followed by the trembling Lucas and Rick Ziffer. The moment she stepped inside, Anastasia headed straight toward the desk, pulled open a drawer that screeched loudly, then reached in and yanked out a bundle of papers. She slammed them onto the desk, scattering dust everywhere as she said:
"These are the records of that aura's movements. We used a thermal-tracking device to pinpoint it accurately."
The thermal tracker was a device used to measure the intensity and location of an aura through—
She pulled out a sheet containing a thermal map of the entire city. Most of the map was colorless—black—save for a few tiny green spots. But at the far edge, specifically in the abandoned-building district, the map glowed with a concentrated red core surrounded by bright yellow. Those colors represented thermal energy.
Anastasia pointed at the area with a firm voice:
"This is the place where the strange aura gathers most of the time. And if the mysterious detective was right, then this should be the headquarters of the infamous White King Skull Gang—"
Rick Ziffer's eyes widened with excitement the moment he heard the mysterious detective. He slammed the desk hard, making Lucas jolt in fear, and exclaimed loudly with a grin stuck on his face:
"Is that bastard going to participate in this mission?!"
Anastasia drew another sheet and placed it over the first. This one showed thermal energy at the entrance of the city.
"No. This one is from about two weeks ago. It's the first recorded appearance of that aura."
Zephyr closed his eyes and exhaled a sharp, burning breath, thinking:
'What is wrong with this woman…?!'
***
The crowd outside the police headquarters thinned as the moon grew brighter in the sky. Yet some still waited in hope that Rick Ziffer might come out and sign something for them.
"Damn it, it's getting late!"
Sota shouted, though no one heard him except Takeshi because of the noisy street. Sota suddenly started running, waving at Takeshi:
"Sorry for leaving so quickly, Takeshi! I hope we meet again soon!"
Sota vanished into the crowd, leaving Takeshi staring directly at the police headquarters.
'It's time to execute the plan!'
Without any hesitation, he walked toward the gate, which was guarded by officers. The moment he reached it, one of them stopped him. The officer wore a single-star badge and had an unnaturally long, horse-like face. He stood in Takeshi's way and said:
"We told you repeatedly—entry is forbidden!"
Takeshi raised his hands and, with a faint smile that didn't suit him, replied:
"Oh, my apologies, officer. I actually came to join the police force!"
Suddenly, Takeshi's stomach growled loudly, freezing him in place. The officer's face twisted in disgust, saliva flicking from his mouth as he spoke:
"You don't belong here! Go find something to eat and come back later!"
Takeshi walked away, scowling and cursing his terrible luck.
"Damn it! My first plan failed… I need to move to the next one."
Whether his stomach growled or not didn't matter—most officers were arrogant, looking down on everyone. Rejection would have been their answer regardless, only the tone would differ.
This arrogance was one of the reasons the citizens preferred the C.P.O members over the police—especially since laziness and cowardice plagued most officers.
Takeshi stood at a distance from the gate, specifically in a dark alley that reeked of rotten food. The alley lay between the police building and the neighboring structures. From there, he spotted a large ventilation opening on the police building.
Without being noticed, he slipped into the alley's darkness, climbed onto a garbage container, pulled off the rusty metal cover, and slid inside. The noise was loud, but no one bothered checking—they assumed it was just a rat.
Takeshi crawled on his stomach, trying not to make any more sound. He reached a vent opening that overlooked the reception area—but he ignored it and kept moving.
'All I need is an empty office to search.'
Takeshi had planned to temporarily join the police force to gather information on where his sword's aura had appeared. But the officers' arrogance ruined that plan, so he resorted to infiltration instead.
With every inch he advanced, the pressure in the air grew heavier. Unintentionally, his body felt pulled toward something—like an invisible hand dragging his heart toward it, planting the idea that the information he needed was there.
At the end of the duct, he saw a bright opening emitting that same pressure. He moved toward it silently, peeking inside—only to find Rick Ziffer speaking with Anastasia and Lucas.
"We lost many of our men after sending them to search for the source of that immense aura!"
Anastasia spoke with anger, her face pale. Rick Ziffer replied, still smiling:
"Alright, alright. Now the picture is clear!"
He spread the papers across the desk—seven in total—and glanced at each one.
"Can you two leave me alone to think?"
"Fine…"
Anastasia walked past him and exited the room, with Lucas following behind.
One second of silence passed. Then several. Then minutes.
Takeshi kept staring at Rick Ziffer and the documents with intense focus, waiting for a single movement.
'What am I even doing here? That pressure led me here… but am I the only one who felt it? Or was it just instinct?'
He tried to focus on the papers, but from this distance, the details were impossible to see.
'Those papers…?'
Takeshi's gaze stayed fixed, unblinking, until Rick Ziffer finally broke the silence—after making sure he was alone:
"You can come out now!"
Takeshi's eyes widened instantly. His heartbeat spiked uncontrollably, sweat trickling down his face. And Rick's next words confirmed it beyond any doubt:
"How can you stand the stench up there? I'm down here and can barely stay upright! Hahaha!!"
At that moment, Takeshi knew escaping was pointless. Based on what Sota had said, Rick Ziffer was extremely high-ranked. Facing him was easier than running like a coward.
Takeshi clenched his fist and punched the vent panel, smashing it down. It crashed loudly, cracking the floor like a spiderweb.
He dropped from the opening—barely squeezing through—and stood face-to-face with Rick Ziffer, eyes sharp and silent, his fist clenched tightly, ready for whatever this overwhelming pressure might bring.