“…Officer Ch’en?” “Hm?
Lynn?
What are you doing here?” At the sound of his voice, the stern L.G.D.
officer paused mid-stride.
Her sharp, calculating gaze swept over Lynn from head to toe, lingering on his casual attire.
A rare flicker of genuine surprise broke through her usually impenetrable expression.
“Why are you hanging around Penguin Logistics?
When did you even get back to Lungmen?” Ch’en crossed her arms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“I almost did not recognize you with actual clothes on.” “Ahaha, I finally found a job.
Thank you for everything you did for me back then.
Please, have a seat.” The exchange left the rest of the room in stunned silence.
The Blacksteel Worldwide operators exchanged bewildered glances, while the Penguin Logistics crew stared openly.
Chief Inspector Ch’en was a name that commanded respect, and a fair amount of dread, across Lungmen.
To those operating in the city’s sprawling gray areas, she was a relentless headache.
She took no bribes, turned a blind eye to nothing, and pursued criminals with a terrifying, righteous fervor.
Her exceptional combat prowess and tactical mind were the bedrock of Lungmen’s fragile stability.
The ordinary citizens adored their stern protector, but for mercenaries and underworld couriers, an unexpected visit from the Chief Inspector was akin to a natural disaster.
Seeing this legendary ice mountain of an officer casually catching up with their fragile, amnesiac Prophet broke their collective brains.
Ch’en quickly proved she was exactly who her badge claimed to be.
The brief moment of warmth vanished, replaced by the cold, professional edge of a seasoned investigator.
“We can reminisce later.
Right now, I am here on official business.” She waved off Lynn’s gesture to sit and pulled a sealed document file from her uniform jacket.
Her piercing eyes shifted to Exusiai, who was in the middle of adjusting her eye mask, and then back to Lynn.
“According to L.G.D.
intelligence, the room that recently detonated was rented under your name, Exusiai.
It was designated as an external safehouse for Penguin Logistics, primarily used to house an unidentified individual, namely, Lynn., it served as a transit point for sensitive documents and items stored by your company that might attract unwanted attention.
Is this correct?” “Yep.
Is there a problem with that?” Exusiai rubbed her eyes, leaning back and raising a challenging eyebrow at the officer standing beside Lynn.
“That is the apartment where the Prophet and I live.
I have been crashing there ever since I picked him up from the wasteland.
Occasionally, I drop off some company archives there for safekeeping.” “The Prophet?” Ch’en repeated, her tone flat.
“That is him.
We are roommates.” Exusiai pointed a finger gun at Lynn.
Ch’en cast a curious, lingering look at the young man before jotting a quick note in her pocket ledger.
She snapped it shut and met Exusiai’s gaze.
“Is that so?
Then you must know the origin of the highly unstable materials recovered from the blast radius in your bedroom.” “Penguin Logistics handles transportation and storage.
We do not poke our noses into the cargo, Officer Ch’en.” The Sankta girl blew a stray strand of hair out of her face, her expression the picture of innocent professionalism.
“If we actually knew what was inside every classified archive we hauled, and deliberately leaked them to competitors, we would have gone bankrupt ages ago.
Our cargo is sealed, heavily monitored by dedicated personnel, and transported on randomized schedules.
We often just pull things from safes and move them.
We have no idea what is in those boxes.” “Indeed.
If you did not maintain that strict plausible deniability, I would not be conducting a routine inspection today.
I would be executing an arrest warrant.
Relax.
This is just a standard inquiry.
I believe Lungmen provides ample room for legitimate enterprises to thrive peacefully.” Having delivered her standard L.G.D.
warning, Ch’en tucked her identification away.
Her gaze swept the room once more, cataloging every face, every weapon, and every subtle twitch of the Blacksteel and Penguin personnel, as if committing the entire scene to her eidetic memory.
Finally, her eyes settled back on Lynn.
She took in his frail posture, his thin wrists, and the bewildered look in his eyes, and simply shook her head.
“Since you have finally made it back into the city, you need to find a legitimate line of work.
Penguin Logistics is constantly under suspicion for illicit activities.
While we lack concrete evidence at the moment, associating with them is not a long-term survival strategy.
Were you not planning to write a novel?
I found the story you pitched to me before you left quite intriguing.
If you stumble upon any evidence of criminal activity here, or if you simply need a way out, come to the L.G.D.
headquarters.
Give them my name.
I will arrange a stable, legal position for you.” “Ah, um…
Thank you, Officer Ch’en?” Lynn replied, shifting awkwardly under the collective stares of his current employers.
Only Ch’en possessed the sheer audacity to insult the hosts right in their own living room.
Without even turning around, one could tell that the expressions of the Penguin Logistics employees had instantly soured.
However, this did not bother the Chief Inspector in the slightest.
Her face remained a mask of cold authority, speaking her mind without hesitation.
“No thanks necessary.
If you had not bumped into me back then, giving me the opportunity to verify your alibi, you would currently be sitting in an interrogation cell as a prime suspect.” “Eh?
Could someone like me even commit a crime?
I am practically defenseless…” “I am well aware of your physical limitations.
But your undocumented status and the timing of the incident made you a highly sensitive variable, placing you squarely on the suspect list.
Fortunately, I can personally vouch for your whereabouts and the time discrepancy during the critical timeframe.
You are cleared.” “Then what exactly is this case about?” “Classified L.G.D.
business.
Do not ask questions you do not need the answers to.” Ch’en waved a dismissive hand, shutting down the inquiry.
In truth, this visit was largely theatrical.
The L.G.D.
knew Penguin Logistics operated on strict confidentiality; breaking seals and manually uploading data to the public network went against their entire business model.
This inspection was a calculated move to warn off any rival factions trying to pin the blame on the couriers, subtly placing them under L.G.D.
protection to prevent a gang war.
The real headache was that the trail ended here.
The most logical suspect, Lynn, had been exiled from Lungmen months prior and had only just smuggled himself back inside.
An amnesiac without an identification card, completely ignorant of modern technology, could not possibly have orchestrated a massive data leak.
Ch’en had tested him herself.
The boy did not even grasp the basic concepts of Originium Arts.
So, if Lynn and the couriers were innocent, who had quietly planted those explosive archives in the apartment?
The mere thought of the charred paper scraps and encrypted data fragments gave Ch’en a migraine.
Pushing the frustration down, she smoothed her uniform and offered a curt nod to the room.
Her gaze softened just a fraction as it landed on the amnesiac writer, whose strange tales had left a deep impression on her before his exile.
“Since you are back, your identification papers will be processed shortly.
You will be a recognized resident of Lungmen.
If you ever get that novel published, let me know.
I will buy a copy to support you.” “Then, thank you again, Officer Ch’en.” “Do not mention it.
I have a city to police, so I will not overstay my welcome.
We can speak more when time permits.” Ch’en turned on her heel, her boots clicking sharply against the floorboards.
Pausing at the threshold, she cast a sidelong glance at the two Blacksteel Worldwide operators.
“One last thing.
The L.G.D.
expects Blacksteel personnel to focus strictly on their contracted security details.
Do not overstep your jurisdiction.
Lungmen welcomes foreign enterprise, but we have zero tolerance for imported chaos.
I expect your full cooperation.
Good day.” Before the elite operators could even formulate a response, Ch’en delivered a crisp, flawless salute and marched out the door.
Her sheer presence had been so suffocatingly dominant that the seven other people in the room had been rendered entirely mute.
The Blacksteel operators closed their mouths, swallowing their pride without uttering a single word of protest.
A long, heavy silence stretched across the office.
Slowly, every head turned toward the center of the room.
Lynn, who had quietly poured himself a fresh glass of water during the standoff, blinked.
He clutched his notebook to his chest, shrinking slightly under the intense, unified scrutiny of his roommates and guests.
“…Why are you all staring at me?
Do I have something on my face?” Holding his paper cup, Lynn shifted uncomfortably in his chair, completely oblivious to the sheer absurdity of the situation he had just caused.
[Rhodes’s Note: Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?
(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!
to use the links!)