In Fanzui City, the wail of police sirens had practically become the mandatory background music of every night.
Without one passing by, people might start wondering whether they’d been teleported to some other world.
By the hour when most people were already asleep, an explosion went off on the third floor of the downtown department store.
The real cause was a lost seven-year-old whose over-agitated emotions had triggered an Ability Loss of Control.
Fortunately the blast was small—a few minor injuries, no deaths.
That not a single person had come over to check on the little boy while he stood there alone, bawling because he’d lost his way—well, that was the one blessing amid the misfortune.
This was a tricky one.
If the true cause leaked, the child would likely be dragged onto the internet and savaged by the crowd, and it would inflame the tensions between espers and ordinary people.
If, in the early days, publicizing the dangers of out-of-control espers had been meant to warn people to keep their distance from anyone wearing an esper badge, then pushing that message now would only breed more conflict.
Everything had to be kept within limits.
Anyone might turn out to be a mutant—who could guarantee their own child wouldn’t?
In recent years the number of children abandoned for awakening an ability had flat-out doubled.
No one had been seriously hurt; the worst was a small patch of scalded skin, and not even the kind that needed surgery.
Compared to the injured, the flames the explosion had set off were the bigger headache—the blast had happened right in the clothing section, too much flammable material, and the store’s losses weren’t small.
Compensation would have to be paid, of course, but the first priority was to bury the whole thing quietly and avoid stoking the online furor.
That female reporter who’d broken through the cordon not long ago had already caught the scent and rushed over, putting on a grief-and-outrage act as she demanded the police disclose the full story.
“We tell the public it was a gas explosion,” Officer Chen decided, frowning.
“Chief, we’ve used that excuse for ten years running—the gas company’s still tangled up in a lawsuit with you over it even now.
And plenty of people saw the explosive come spewing right out of that boy’s mouth.” His subordinate’s face was pained.
Officer Chen was silent for a moment.
“An unscrupulous vendor mixed gas into the food, and a seven-year-old boy unfortunately ate it by mistake—”
“Chief, the gas company’s calling.”
Officer Chen: “Don’t answer.”
“…”
“Who told you to come running out here?
You’re off today.” That was the first thing Officer Chen said to Yiwen when she showed up in her white robe.
A minor student could, at most, be enrolled as an Official Vigilante by special exception on account of an unusual ability, and Vigilantes clearly weren’t as run off their feet as full-fledged officers.
On top of that, Yiwen happened to be on her period today; she’d requested the day off herself.
“I was going to ask you the same thing—why keep anything to do with my father from me?” Yiwen pressed.
What did he think she’d become a Vigilante for in the first place?
“Did Silver Immortal tell you?” Officer Chen asked, displeased, pushing her by the shoulder to get her into the car to talk.
Anything tied to the true identity of an Esper Police officer was best hidden even from colleagues.
No one could guarantee that a mole or two hadn’t slipped in among their coworkers, so missions that required someone’s real identity only let Cleared Personnel assist.
“Never mind who told me.
If you won’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll tell your son there’s no such thing as Ultraman.”
Pinching the bridge of his brow, Officer Chen caved.
“We’ve caught the ringleader smuggling N1202.”
The child is innocent.
“That fast?
Weren’t there barely any leads before?
The cameras never even caught his face.” Yiwen was surprised.
Even before the surveillance cameras had been destroyed, people had already been carrying out these illegal deals.
Careful as they were, the cameras had still caught their backs—but trying to find someone from nothing but a rear view was simply too hard.
“Mm.
Day before yesterday I posted a token wanted notice in the Fanzui City Special Esper Police group chat, and some new recruit accidentally leaked the thing—incomplete as it was—and it spread all over the internet.” Officer Chen handed his phone to Yiwen.
It was a thoroughly half-hearted wanted notice; the portrait was even just a black silhouette wearing a sinister grin.
By the rules, a wanted notice with next to no real information like this could only circulate within the Esper Police group chats; otherwise it would just throw the public into a panic.
For instance, if the only feature listed was “curly hair,” then any ordinary person who’d seen the notice might panic every time they spotted a curly-haired stranger, maybe even report an innocent person straight to the police.
People with curly hair would rush off overnight to get it straightened, and those who couldn’t straighten it would just shave it all off—and then the actual curly-haired suspect would go change his hairstyle too.
Officer Chen pointed at the line listing a height of one meter seventy-nine (about five foot ten).
“He stormed into the station today in a rage and threw a fit—insisted, no matter what, that we change it to one meter eighty.”
Yiwen: “…”
He glanced at Yiwen—through the mask and hood there was no reading her expression—and went on.
“We worked him over for a whole day, and he finally admitted the party he’d been dealing with was Night Demon.”
“You sure a forced confession like that is reliable?
Why not use Giant Salamander?”
Giant Salamander was Lu Mingxue’s codename.
At least the codenames of the police’s espers generally had nothing directly to do with their actual abilities.
“That’s exactly the problem.
Giant Salamander vanished in broad daylight.
The people guarding her from the shadows didn’t even catch how she disappeared—they only saw her flash a ‘see you in a bit’ gesture during class, then bolt out the door like she was running for her life the moment class ended, and just like that she was gone.”
Did that mean she’d known before she vanished that something might happen to her?
No wonder she’d been nowhere to be seen that afternoon—their relationship was lukewarm at best, so Yiwen hadn’t paid it any mind.
As a mind-reading esper, it was entirely plausible she’d foreseen the danger.
The gesture during class suggested it might involve a classmate; the sudden disappearance—
Yiwen’s thoughts drifted again to that Spatial Esper Murder Case—and to her new deskmate.
“What about Mi Xiaoliu?” she asked.
“The file lists his birthplace as City of the Fallen—nothing anyone from there does would surprise me.
No family records turned up.
We had someone search his room; nothing suspicious anywhere.
The furniture’s all cheap stuff, and the only thing in the trash can was the paper wrapping from baozi—looks like he’s probably been eating nothing but baozi these past few days.
If we’re going to tail and monitor him, I think you’d make a fine candidate yourself.” That last sentence he said in a voice the other officers couldn’t hear.
“I’ll consider it.” Yiwen lowered her head, lost in thoughts no one could read.
Even if the starting point was nothing more than a groundless association, it could still turn out to be the key that cracked the case—so suspicion toward Mi Xiaoliu was necessary all the same.
“Through standard interrogation we’ve more or less confirmed that the person this man was dealing with is Night Demon, and roughly pinned down the area Night Demon was operating in a week ago.
But we couldn’t wring anything more out of him.
As for where Giant Salamander went, we’ve got no leads—there shouldn’t be many people who even know she’s Esper Police…
We’ve already sent people to look into it.”
There were too many possibilities.
Mingxue had read a memory she wasn’t supposed to know; some organization of super-criminals had set its sights on her mind-reading ability…
But if she was missing rather than dead, she was probably safe for the time being.
To have had her under covert watch and protection and still let her be spirited away—it hadn’t been close protection, true, but this time they’d genuinely lost face.
Yiwen shook her head.
“We’d have been better off just having her take off the sunglasses and keep her ability hidden from the start.”
“We’ve got our own difficulties on our end,” Officer Chen said, a little awkward.
“Send me Night Demon’s operating area.”
“I know you’ve waited a long time for this moment, but let me give you one piece of advice—don’t spook the target.
The Devil and Humpback Whale have already headed over; just follow their lead.” As he spoke, Officer Chen sent the marked-up map to Yiwen’s phone.
“Also—I have a feeling that even with the map, you still won’t find the place.”
Yiwen: “…”
She really was hopeless at finding places—but the words on the map, at least, she could read.
For instance, within the operating area there was one spot she recognized.
Namely, the outskirts near the student apartments where Mi Xiaoliu lived.
“Master, your phone’s ringing.” Sasha, who’d been about to settle in to sleep alongside Mi Xiaoliu, gave the reminder.
“Mm.”
Fresh from her bath and lying in bed, Mi Xiaoliu drew the phone out of her System Space.
There was a cool sensation at the bottom of the phone—this was the phone’s particular way of ringing: warm when the weather was cold, cool when the weather was hot.
No telling what technology it used; the whole point was that, tucked into an inner pocket, it could silently alert its owner to an incoming call.
It was Boss calling.
She answered.
“Asleep yet?” That was Wei Shi’s opening line.
This time it was a rich, middle-aged man’s voice, completely different from the last two times.
“Just about to,” Mi Xiaoliu answered.
“Then stay up a while first—what young person doesn’t pull the odd all-nighter,” Wei Shi said.
“…”
“Catch someone for me.
He’s a traitor to Night Hawk.
The Feds have traced his rough operating area—it’s right where you are.” Wei Shi issued the order.
“I’ll send you his details; they’re more thorough than what the Feds have.
Barring surprises, he’s already caught wind and made a run for it.
All you have to do is stop him—I’ll get there shortly…
Hermit will tell you his approximate location.
Once it’s done, I’ll give you a million.”
Hermit was the codename of the purple-haired big sister.
Thank you all so much!