[The Next Morning – Magical Intelligence Headquarters, FBI]
The Golden Sector, Elysium City.
The FBI headquarters was not just a building—it was a fortress of black steel glass and white titanium, rising hundreds of ters into the sky, reflecting the morning sun with arrogant coldness.
Around the building were invisible magical barriers preventing any unauthorized aether from approaching.
I stood before the massive electronic gates, wearing a simple black formal suit and a white shirt without a tie.
My black hair was ssily styled, covering my forehead, and my face was pale like a ghost.
Faint bruises were still visible around my eyes, but my body had almost completely healed thanks to so Rank A healing potions Valisera had thrown to in the pocket dinsion.
I wasn’t wearing the mask.
I was Kyle Valtier.
The thin, weak young man with faded crimson eyes that looked as though they had lost the will to live.
Beside walked Valisera, in her full military elegance and silver stars, ignoring the tense salutes from guards as she passed.
"The division is split into three main wings," Valisera began explaining with boredom, like a tour guide forced into her job.
"The eastern wing: ’Investigator Offices’ and intelligence analysis. That’s where the suited fools who think they’re smart work.
The western wing: ’Aetherial Forensics and Laboratories.’ And the central wing, where we operate: ’Raid and Execution Units.’"
We walked through wide corridors with white marble floors, agents moving briskly, carrying electronic files or magical weapons.
The atmosphere was charged with constant tension and efficiency.
This was the hornet’s nest.
And I—the Black Joker—was walking at its core in complete calm.
The thought alone was enough to trigger hysterical laughter inside , but I maintained the mask of stupidity and weakness.
We stopped in front of a large wooden door engraved with the emblem of two crossed swords.
"Kyrion’s office, and Alpha Squad’s lounge," Valisera said.
She pushed the door open without knocking.
Inside was a spacious and luxurious hall.
At the far end, behind a glass desk, sat "Kyrion Drathis," the living legend, flipping through so docunts.
In the lounge area filled with leather sofas were the rest of Alpha Squad mbers.
"Sia" was cleaning her rifle with boredom.
"Damian" was reading a book while sipping coffee.
And on a separate couch... sat "Eva Blackwood."
She wore comfortable civilian clothes.
Her face was slightly pale, and she kept placing her hand on her abdon—where my shadow bullet had left an irreversible scar.
Her black eyes were filled with suppressed rage.
She had been healed with Rank S healing magic, but the psychological trauma of her insides being torn apart from within without visible cause still haunted her.
When I entered behind Valisera, all movent in the room stopped.
Kyrion raised his head, frowning.
"Valisera? Who is this boy? Did you bring a prisoner into the lounge?"
Valisera smiled coldly.
"No, Kyrion. I brought you a new colleague. Welco ’Kyle Valtier.’ The newest mber—and recruit of Alpha Squad."
Damian’s book slipped from his hand and hit the ground.
Sia stopped polishing her rifle.
Eva slowly stood up, her black eyes widening in disbelief.
"Colleague? New?" Kyrion repeated, his deep voice rising dangerously.
He stood from behind his desk, his heavy aura beginning to leak into the room.
"Is this another one of your jokes, Valisera? This boy..." he looked at with disgust.
"His aetherial aura is so weak I can barely sense it. He’s barely Rank G! And we are ’Alpha’! The elite of the elite! The weakest mber here is Rank A!"
"Rank G?!" Eva suddenly shouted, pointing at with narcissistic anger.
"Are you kidding , Commander?! I’m practically dying from phantom pain in my stomach because of that bastard called the Joker, and you bring us trash from the lower sector to work with us? What is he going to do? Polish our boots during raids?!"
Damian intervened nervously, trying to calm things down:
"Commander... with all due respect, this doesn’t make sense. Bringing a Rank G into our missions is a death sentence for him—and a tactical burden on us."
I stood there, slightly lowering my head as if I were scared and embarrassed.
But inside... I was tearing apart from both laughter and rage.
(You dare call trash, you bitch? I scread in my mind as I looked at Eva from beneath my lashes. I’m the one who made your insides spill onto the asphalt! I’m the one who brought you to your knees, crying like a child! If not for your cowardly squad’s intervention, you’d be a rotting corpse in that alley right now!)
But I swallowed my hatred and slowly raised my hand, forming a shy, shaky, pitiful smile.
"H-hello everyone. I’m Kyle. It’s an honor to learn from you. I’ll do my best not to be a burden."
Eva looked at as if I were a disgusting insect and turned her face away.
Kyrion slamd his hand on the desk, cracking the glass.
"Rejected!" Kyrion roared.
"I will not allow him here! High Command would never approve of this nonsense!"
Valisera, who had been watching the scene with silent amusent, walked toward Kyrion’s desk and placed a white docunt stamped with a golden seal in front of him.
"High Command has already approved, Kyrion," Valisera said in a sharp tone that cut off any argunt.
"I used my ’exceptional authority’ as a commander. Kyle Valtier is under my direct responsibility. Alpha Squad is my squad, and I decide who joins it. If you have objections, you may raise them to the Supre Kaiser personally."
The ntion of Kaiser made Kyrion swallow the rest of his words.
He knew, as everyone did, that Valisera held an illogical level of favor with the ruler of the city.
Kyrion sighed like an old man and sat down, rubbing his forehead.
"One day, your arrogance will get us all killed, Valisera."
Valisera turned to and smiled her wicked smile.
"Kyle. Your desk is that small one in the corner, next to the coffee machine. Damian will give you a tour of the headquarters—and explain FBI protocols."
"Y-yes, ma’am," I said softly.
I hated this situation. I hated being under the command of a teenage girl treating like a puppet.
I hated standing in the sa room as Eva and Damian without being able to drive my knife into their throats.
Damian approached , looking at with pity mixed with superiority.
"Follow , kid," Damian said, gesturing with his hand.
"And try not to touch anything explosive. We deal with weapons that could vaporize you."
The first day passed like a dark cody.
I walked behind Damian, pretending to be amazed by every display screen and every training hall.
"This is the aether analysis room," he explained, while I nodded like an idiot.
"And those are the criminal division investigators—don’t talk to them, they’re rude." (I know them. I killed their best investigator yesterday.)
At lunchti, I sat in the luxurious headquarters cafeteria. Alpha Squad sat at a nearby table, completely ignoring .
Eva was complaining loudly about the phantom pain that struck her every ti she rembered the Black Joker.
"I swear," Eva said bitterly, stabbing her food with a fork,
"When I find him, I won’t kill him with a bullet. I’ll make him suffer."
I sat alone at a small table, eating a chicken sandwich, watching her.
I took a sip of my juice and smiled a smile no one saw.
(Make sure you lock your room door well tonight, Eva... because the Joker now holds the key to the entire headquarters.)
The dark cody lay in the truth:
The most dangerous nightmare threatening magical intelligence—the killer they were searching for in every gutter—was sitting among them, drinking apple juice, holding an ID card that read:
"Agent in Training – Rank G."
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