Inside the Federation Police headquarters, the atmosphere was suffocating.
Elric stood alone in his office, a thick report clenched tightly in his hand. His eyes moved back and forth across the words, yet none of them seed real.
Each line struck him harder than the last, hamring against his rational mind and shattering every assumption he had built over the past week.
"How is this possible...?"
With a sharp motion, he slamd the report onto the wooden table. The heavy thud echoed through the room, vibrating against the shelves and filing cabinets that lined the walls.
Thoren.
A rookie necromancer.
A nobody, barely a week inside the Abyss.
And yet, according to the report in front of him, this sa young man had annihilated the infamous Ghost Scream Bounty Hunters in a single night.
Elric pressed his palm against his forehead and dragged it downward, exhaling sharply. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it beca.
The Ghost Scream Bounty Hunters were not amateurs.
Their boss alone had survived more than a year within the Abyss, long enough to be considered a hardened veteran by Federation standards.
He had led dozens of successful hunts, clashed with elite awakeners, and carved out a fearso reputation that even the Federation treated with caution.
Even the Federation Police would hesitate before engaging such a force directly.
Yet now, they were gone.
Wiped out.
Destroyed so thoroughly that not even survivors remained to contest the report.
"In one night..." Elric muttered.
The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
He began pacing back and forth across the office, his boots striking the wooden floor in a steady, agitated rhythm.
His mind raced, replaying the sequence of events over and over again, desperately searching for a flaw in the narrative.
There was none.
He had gambled.
A dangerous gamble.
From the very beginning, his plan had been simple.
He would allow the Ghost Scream Bounty Hunters to act freely, turning a blind eye to their cris and excesses.
When the situation reached a boiling point, the Federation Police would step in as righteous enforcers, crushing the criminals and solidifying their authority over the region.
It would have been perfect.
The people would cheer.
The Federation’s image would be restored.
And he, Elric, would be praised for his decisive leadership.
Yet everything had gone down the drain.
The criminals were gone before he could act.
And worse, Thoren’s na now stood at the center of the storm.
"What should I do now...?" Elric muttered.
He stopped pacing and stared at the report again, his jaw tightening.
If this situation spiraled out of control, the higher-ups would demand answers. Questions would be asked. Records would be reviewed.
Why had the Federation Police not intervened?
Why had no officers been dispatched during the conflict?
Why had they waited until morning?
His fingers curled into fists.
"I need a scapegoat," he whispered.
A flicker of realization lit up his eyes.
Since no Federation officers had appeared during the battle, responsibility had to fall sowhere.
Soone would need to take the bla, quickly and decisively.
As long as the public saw accountability, the Federation’s image could still be preserved.
Just as he was considering which of his subordinates would be sacrificed, a sharp knock sounded at the door.
Elric frowned.
"Who is it?" he barked, irritation seeping into his voice. "Co in."
Creak.
The door swung open, and a young officer stepped inside. He snapped to attention and saluted sharply.
"Captain," he said.
"What?" Elric demanded impatiently.
"Officer Minerva has returned, sir."
Elric’s eyes widened for a brief mont before a slow, calculating grin spread across his face.
"So she’s back..." he murmured.
"Call her imdiately," he said loudly. "I need her in my office. Now."
"Yes, sir!"
The officer saluted again and rushed out, closing the door behind him.
Elric leaned back against his chair and exhaled deeply. Relief washed over him, followed closely by a dark, satisfied smile.
"Perfect," he whispered.
Now, he no longer needed to worry about which pawn to sacrifice.
Officer Minerva was ideal.
Competent. Trusted. Known for her diligence and sense of justice.
If she took the fall, the bla would stick—and the Federation Police would erge unscathed.
Lost in his thoughts, Elric barely noticed when the door opened again.
Minerva walked in.
Her expression was pale, her eyes cold and unreadable. There was no hint of the fiery determination she usually carried.
"Captain," she said flatly. "You called for ."
She did not salute.
Elric paused, montarily caught off guard. He lifted his head and studied her more closely. Sothing about her deanor unsettled him.
She looked exhausted.
But more than that, she looked distant.
Still, the stakes were too high for hesitation.
"Officer Minerva," he said, straightening in his chair. "You are to proceed to the Ghost Scream Bounty Hunter headquarters and conduct an investigation."
He paused deliberately.
"I trust you’ve heard the rumors."
She did not respond.
Her gaze remained fixed on him, unwavering.
Elric frowned inwardly.
What’s wrong with her?
This isn’t like her.
Normally, she would have seized an assignnt like this without hesitation.
Clearing his throat, he continued.
"That necromancer has acted once again," Elric said firmly. "The Federation Police must take a stand. The people need reassurance that we can protect them."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I trust you to handle this properly."
Still, no response.
Then, finally.
"No."
The word hit him like a slap.
Elric blinked.
"Captain," Minerva continued calmly, "I’m too tired for any form of investigation."
Her voice trailed off as she stared at him intently.
"Besides," she added, "why are you only sending officers to the scene now?"
His brows furrowed.
"From what I heard, the battle happened yesterday," she said. "Why were no Federation officers deployed during the fight?"
The questions struck him like arrows.
Elric froze.
This was the first ti she had ever questioned a direct order.
Fury surged within him, hot and violent. Rage coiled around his chest like a living serpent, tightening with every breath.
How dare she?
He wanted to explode, to remind her of her place.
But he restrained himself.
He was trying to salvage the situation, not destroy it.
"Are you rejecting a direct order?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
He expected hesitation.
Fear.
Compliance.
Instead, Minerva nodded.
"Yes."
She turned toward the door.
"Since you failed to send n during the fight," she said coolly, "you should be the one to clean up the ss."
She walked away.
The door slamd shut behind her with a sharp crack.
Elric remained seated, frozen in place.
For the first ti since receiving the report, he felt sothing close to fear.
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