The scene outside the headquarters of Massive Electric Corporation was a chaotic tableau. As far as the eye could see, a dense crowd had ford, composed mostly of local citizens drawn by the spectacle, but also a significant number of Descenders. They buzzed with anticipation, their senses tingling with the unmistakable scent of a major questline unfolding.
A police cordon had been hastily erected, its yellow tape a stark barrier against the tide of onlookers. Several police cruisers were parked haphazardly near the main gate, their lights painting the scene in flashes of red and blue. A contingent of heavily ard soldiers stood guard, their expressions grim and their formation unyielding.
"I am Raiden i, the daughter of the Chairman of Corp! Let see my father!"
Not far from the main entrance, Raiden i was desperately negotiating with the soldiers. Her voice was tight with agitation, her face a mask of disbelief. Her relationship with Raiden Ryoma had always been sowhat distant, a casualty of his all-consuming work schedule, but he was still her father. She refused, absolutely refused, to believe he could be guilty of such a cri.
"Sorry, miss. We have orders not to let anyone near the building," a soldier responded, his voice muffled by his helt, his posture rigid.
"My father would never do those things! You must have made a mistake!" i's voice cracked, her composure fracturing as hot tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
"The truth of the matter will be determined by a professional investigation. If he is innocent, his na will be cleared," the soldier stated, his tone flat and unmoved. He remained a wall, blocking her path.
Just then, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone's attention. Raiden Ryoma was being led out by two officers. His brow was deeply furrowed, his gaze sweeping restlessly over the crowd as if searching for soone.
"Father!" Raiden i cried out, her voice cutting through the din.
Raiden Ryoma's eyes found his daughter, and a flicker of relief seed to soften his tense features. But it was imdiately replaced by a deep and uncontrollable worry. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before any words could escape, the officers ushered him firmly into the back of a waiting police car.
"Hey, beautiful lady, don't you worry. I'm sure your father will be just fine."
As the car door slamd shut, a Descender brazenly stepped forward, inserting himself into Raiden i's path to offer his unsolicited comfort.
i had been about to sprint after the car, her mind a maelstrom of panic. Being suddenly blocked by this stranger, her frayed nerves finally snapped.
"Get lost!" she snarled, her voice dripping with ice.
The man, however, seed utterly oblivious. He stuck to her like a stubborn burr, chattering on and on. Years of online gaming experience had taught him that an NPC this central to a major event was guaranteed to be a quest-giver.
In the next second, his theory was tested. With a sharp crack, Raiden i's open palm connected with his face, sending him stumbling back.
[-65]
A crimson number materialized above the man's head. Before he could even register the damage, i followed up with a viciously swift kick to his chest.
[-78]
The man's body dissolved into a shower of light particles, his brief existence in this world snuffed out. The Descender, known only as Shiga Maruta, had been killed in two hits.
The sudden, brutal display sent a wave of shock through the other Descenders. The eager thoughts of striking up a conversation and landing a quest evaporated, replaced by a healthy dose of fear.
But that brief, violent delay had cost Raiden i dearly. The police car had vanished into the city traffic.
She spent the rest of the day in a frantic haze, racing from one police station to the next, but no one knew where her father had been taken. It was as if he had been swallowed by the system. To make matters worse, she soon discovered that all of her father's assets had been frozen—every bank account, every piece of real estate, every business held under his na.
The only saving grace was the house she lived in. It had been a birthday gift from Raiden Ryoma, registered under her na alone, a small island of security in a suddenly treacherous sea.
Yet, when Raiden i finally returned ho and pushed open the door, that last bastion of comfort crumbled. The interior was in utter chaos. The servants who would normally greet her with warm smiles were gone. The house had been ransacked, looted of nearly everything of value by those who had once served her family.
Ironically, the one thing the looters had left behind was the large television in the living room. Its screen was frozen on a news broadcast, the headline blaring: Corp Fraud Case: Raiden Ryoma in Custody.
This final, crushing blow was too much. The carefully constructed walls around Raiden i's heart finally gave way. She curled into a small ball in a corner of the desolate room, burying her head in her knees, her mind a blank, silent scream.
She numbly pulled out her phone and saw a flood of text ssages. On the surface, they were all expressions of concern, but a bitter undertone ran through them. Each ssage subtly, or not so subtly, probed for details about the ' Corp Fraud Case'. They weren't worried about her; they were hungry for gossip.
With a deadened look in her eyes, Raiden i powered off the phone, feeling no desire to reply to any of them.
Rovel had been shadowing Raiden i for the better part of the day, but he had never approached. He knew her emotions were a raging tempest; what she needed wasn't hollow comfort, but a space to let the storm break.
After waiting for a while longer in the quiet street outside her house, he decided it was ti to leave her to her solitude and began to turn away.
"Mr. Rovel..."
The timing was impeccable. The very mont Rovel took his first step to depart, Raiden i's voice, small and fragile, drifted from behind him.
He froze, his steps halting mid-stride. Turning slowly, he saw her standing in the doorway. The faint, crystalline tracks of tears still shimred at the corners of her eyes. The proud, confident young woman he knew was gone, replaced by soone achingly vulnerable.
"i," Rovel said softly, his voice gentle. "Are you alright?"
"Mm... I'm fine," she replied, her nod barely perceptible.
An awkward, heavy silence descended between them, thick with unspoken words.
"Do you... want to co in and sit for a while?" It was i who finally broke the quiet, her invitation hesitant.
"If it wouldn't be an intrusion..."
"It's fine. I'm the only one ho now," she said, a note of self-mocking bitterness coloring her tone. "It won't be an intrusion."
Rovel stepped past the threshold and took in the wretched state of the house. The chaos was even more jarring up close.
"You've been following all day, haven't you, Mr. Rovel?" i's voice was flat as she walked to the kitchen and poured him a glass of water. "That must have been tiring. Here."
"Ah... so you noticed," Rovel admitted, scratching the back of his head with a touch of embarrassnt. He hadn't realized his tracking skills were quite so amateurish.
"You're not even going to try and deny it?" Raiden i looked at him, a flicker of sothing unreadable in her eyes, almost speechless at his blunt honesty.
"Cough," Rovel cleared his throat lightly. "I was just worried about you, i." It was the only defense he could offer.
Raiden i didn't respond. She lowered her head, her long hair obscuring her expression, her thoughts a mystery.
"Do you also believe my father is a criminal?" she asked suddenly, the question hanging in the air like a guillotine.
Rovel t her gaze. "I've looked into your father's history. Raiden Ryoma was once a celebrated prodigy in the tech world. He took over as president of Corp at thirty, and in ten short years, he transford it from a simple comrcial appliance manufacturer into a global leader in intelligent electronics, holding so of the world's most valuable tech patents."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "Entrepreneur, philanthropist—the world has given him many titles. From everything the public knows, a man as brilliant and successful as your father would have absolutely no reason to embezzle those funds."
"Three-point-four billion U.S. dollars is an astronomical sum, but for a man of his stature and wealth, it shouldn't be worth the risk."
He took a breath before delivering the final, crucial part of his assessnt. "Of course, this is all based on public information and reputation. I don't personally know what kind of man Mr. Raiden Ryoma is behind closed doors."
"...What are you trying to say?" Raiden i looked up, a fresh wave of disappointnt clouding her eyes. His last sentence felt like a betrayal, an echo of the sentint that you can know a person's face but never their heart. It sounded as if he were suggesting that despite his pristine public image, her father could be a monster in private.
"i," Rovel said, his tone shifting, becoming more direct. He didn't answer her question. Instead, he asked one of his own. "Do you believe in your father?"
"Of course I do!" The words burst from her, her expression instantly becoming agitated, her body language screaming her readiness for an argunt.
"Then that's enough."
Raiden i frowned, confusion warring with her defensiveness. She couldn't grasp the aning behind his simple words.
Rovel's gaze was steady, holding hers. "As his daughter, you know him better than anyone. You know what kind of person he truly is. Since you can believe in your father's character without reservation... then as your... friend," he said the word with gentle emphasis, "I am more than willing to believe in you."
He had masterfully shifted the entire premise. He wasn't claiming to believe in Raiden Ryoma; he was proclaiming his belief in Raiden i.
It wasn't a hypocritical platitude or a comforting lie. It was, in its own way, the perfect answer—a response built on a foundation of objectivity, rationality, and, most, a deep and sincere empathy.
Cue the applause.
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