A few hours later, Michael and Lily stepped out of the Police Headquarters.
The air was cool outside.
Streets that were bustling hours ago were now silent as the people surrendered to the night.
The night’s silence was broken only by the occasional shuffle of footsteps or a distant car engine.
“That went well,” Lily said dryly. Her tone was full of sarcasm as she tugged her jacket tighter against the chill.
Michael let out a bitter chuckle. “If by well, you mean watching them dodge every question and misplace every file we asked for, then sure. It was fantastic.”
Lily smirked, glancing sideways at him. “Hey, they promised they’d find all the documents we asked for. They just need time.”
“Time?” Michael scoffed. “They need time to find files they probably shredded weeks ago. People are dying each time an attack happens, and no one is doing anything about it.”
“We are,” Lily replied.
Michael shook his head. “You know what I mean. There is something wrong here. The higher-ups are hiding something. Until we find out what that is, people will keep on dying.”
Lily’s expression softened.
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Michael’s attention snapped to a figure walking out from a side entrance of the building.
It was a man in the standard khaki uniform of a police officer, tall and lanky, clutching a briefcase in one hand and holding a phone in the other.
The officer’s posture was tense and his steps seemed hurried. His hushed voice echoed off the empty streets, sounding low and trembling.
“…I told you, I have it,” the man said, glancing around nervously. “This is the last time, alright? I’ll do as you said. I’ll take care of it. Just leave me alone after this. Please!”
Michael’s pace slowed and his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head slightly, trying to listen closely.
“Yes, the bag has every piece of hard evidence you told me to dispatch. Now stop calling me, it’s very risky!” The officer said before ending the call abruptly and stuffing his phone into his pocket.
His free hand tightened around the briefcase until his knuckles turned white.
“Suspicious,” Michael muttered, his gaze fixed on the man.
Lily followed his line of sight. “What is?”
“That man,” Michael responded.
Lily shrugged. “Could be dealing with a personal crisis.”
“Maybe.” Michael’s sharp eyes glinted under the moonlight. “But I don’t like coincidences.”
The officer turned, his eyes scanning the street.
When his gaze brushed over Michael and Lily, he stiffened. His lips pressed into a thin line and he turned away.
Without wasting any time, he started walking.
Michael’s intrigue turned into suspicion. “Let’s see where he’s going.”
They started trailing the officer at a safe distance, sticking to the shadows.
Every so often, the man glanced back, each time with growing unease. His pace quickened from a brisk walk to a near jog.
“Oh, that’s definitely not normal,” Michael raised an eyebrow.
“What do you think he’s hiding?” Lily asked softly.
Michael shrugged. “No idea, but I’m very interested to know now.”
The officer glanced back again, and this time his eyes met Michael’s. Panic flashed across his face. Without warning, he bolted.
“Let’s move!” Michael said sharply and he was already running.
His speed was unnaturally fast. With each stride, he was closing the gap between him and the lanky police officer.
Lily was close behind. Her steps were light and quick, but she was still a lot slower than Michael.
The officer veered into a narrow side street, weaving through the sparse crowd with the agility of someone who was really desperate to escape.
Michael followed effortlessly, his movements were smooth and almost predatory.
“Stop!” he called out.
But the officer didn’t stop.
Instead, he darted into a narrow alley.
Michael cursed softly under his breath and quickened his pace.
When he turned the corner, he found the officer scrambling to climb a low fence.
The officer quickly realized he wouldn’t be able to escape in time.
So, he dropped back down and turned to face Michael.
His chest heaved violently as he reached for his service revolver with a shaky hand.
“D-Don’t follow me!” he stammered.
Michael slowed, raising his hands slightly.
His voice was calm but his eyes were mercilessly cold when he spoke, “Don’t take out your gun. If you do, I’ll be forced to act in self-defense. Just answer my one question. What’s in that case?”
Lily appeared to his side. Her expression was taut.
She didn’t say a word but shifted her stance, ready to act if needed.
The officer’s hand trembled on the gun for a moment before he pulled it out from the holster strapped to the side of his waist and took aim.
His gaze darted between Michael and Lily. “Stay back!”
The situation had escalated now.
Michael and Lily were only [C-ranked] Awakened. They were faster and stronger than ordinary humans, but a bullet to the head would still kill them.
Lily was ready to summon a Card if things went wrong. Michael was ready to act in the same way.
But before either could move, a gunshot shattered the air. The sound of it was sharp and deafening.
Michael froze.
His body tensed as he tried to process what just happened.
The officer’s revolver hadn’t fired.
Neither he nor Lily was hurt.
So… who?
…Just then, the officer staggered.
His body jerked, and his knees buckled as he crumpled to the ground.
Blood spread quickly beneath him, dark and viscous, pooling around the briefcase that had fallen from his hand.
Michael’s heart pounded so hard in his chest that his ears started ringing.
He looked up scanning the rooftops, the shadows, the windows — anywhere the shooter might be.
“There!” Lily’s voice came quick and urgent as she pointed to the rooftop above them.
A lone figure was standing on top of a house adjacent to the alley, outlined against the night sky.
He held a long-barreled rifle in his hand.
A sniper.
Michael’s pulse quickened.
But before he could react, the figure moved.
He turned and disappeared over the rooftop’s edge, melting into the night’s darkness like a ghost.
“Damn it,” Michael muttered under his breath. He turned his attention back to the fallen officer and rushed to his side.
The man was alive — barely.
His chest rose and fell weakly.
His face was pale and slick with sweat.
His lips moved, trying to form words, but no sound came.
And when his wide, glassy eyes met Michael’s, there was only panic and pain swirling in their depths.
Michael crouched, leaning closer. But he didn’t know what to say.
The officer let out a faint gasp, failing to choke out whatever he was trying to say.
With trembling fingers, he reached toward the briefcase, his hand brushing its edge before going limp.
His body slackened and his final breath escaped in a weak exhale.
And just like that, he died.
Michael stared down at the officer’s lifeless face. It was then he recognized this man.
He was the same officer Michael had seen on his first day in the city.
The same officer who had abused a woman, cruelly laughing at her misery and finding pleasure in her suffering.
A flood of emotions welled up in Michael’s chest.
Part of him wanted to feel satisfied — this man was a vile scum. He deserved justice, didn’t he?
But as Michael stared at the cooling body, all he felt was a grim hollowness.
This wasn’t justice.
This was… just death.
A life, no matter how cruel, had been snuffed out in an instant.
And for what?
“Michael?” Lily’s comforting voice pulled Michael out of his thoughts.
His gaze shifted to the briefcase. Clenching his jaw, he reached for it and snapped its latches open.
Inside the briefcase were carefully organized stacks of documents, each one meticulously arranged.
Some of those documents were stamped with the unmistakable seal of the Overlord.
Among the papers were construction plans, blueprints for research facilities, and…
“What the hell?” Lily exclaimed as she kneeled beside him.
Michael’s eyes widened as the realization slowly started seeping in. “This… this can’t be… This can’t be correct!?”
“These… these are records,” Lily muttered, her fingers trembling slightly as she sifted through the papers. “Detailed reports on the Spirit Beast attacks. Times, locations, casualties… These are the files we have been looking for!”
She flipped through more pages before her finger froze on one in particular. “And there’s more. Look here!”
Michael’s gaze followed her gesture.
She pointed to a map, one covered with neatly drawn lines and X marks. “These regions are marked, but no attacks have occurred here yet. If this pattern is correct…”
Michael’s blood ran cold as he leaned in closer. His breath hitched in his chest.
“Then these are future attack sites,” Lily finished.
The weight of it hit him like a punch to the gut.
His mind raced, trying to piece together the implications.
This wasn’t just a record of past destruction. This was a plan.
A calculated, methodical plan.
“They knew,” Michael breathed. “No. Not only did they know… they’ve been orchestrating this. The Overlord has been coordinating these attacks. I was right.”
Lily turned to him and asked in a shaky voice. “So, what’s now?”
Michael snapped the briefcase shut and rose to his feet. His mind was already on the move.
“We need to move,” he said. “Whoever that sniper was, they’ll be coming for this next.”
Lily didn’t hesitate. She was already on her feet, her expression hardening with the same cold realization.
As they stepped out of the alley, Michael cast one last glance at the officer’s lifeless body behind them.
There was no justice here — only a body and a truth worth killing for.