[Jevan Perspective]
A whole week had passed, and Raven was still in his coma. A whole week of waiting. I never thought I’d worry about him this much, yet here I was, sitting by his bedside like an idiot. Every ti I brought up the idea of moving him to a hospital, Iris would reply, always while fiddling with sothing in her hands or staring out the window:
"No need."
No need? It almost seed like she wanted to use this chance to get rid of him. I buried my head in my hands and sighed in boredom, tapping my fingers slowly on the armrest of the chair. Then a movent from Raven caught my attention. I quickly raised my head and saw him slowly opening his eyes.
I grinned widely and said:
"Finally, Sleeping Beauty wakes up."
Raven blinked a few tis before muttering:
"I didn’t die?"
"Why? Were you hoping you did? Do you hate life that much?"
He didn’t bother answering my sarcastic remarks. He just turned his head away and curled on the bed, trying to push himself into a sitting position. I watched him struggle in a pitiful attempt to get out of bed.
"Rest a little, you’ve been unconscious for almost a whole week."
"A week?" he repeated in disbelief.
Instead of taking my advice like any sane person, he twisted and turned on the bed, trying to get up faster. I rested my chin on my hand, watching him like it was so kind of play.
"Why the rush?"
I asked as I watched him stagger like an old man trying to escape a nursing ho. Then I added:
"Don’t worry, Garrod gave temporary leave when he heard about your condition."
Truth? I hadn’t told Garrod anything. Nor did I get any leave. But what’s the point in bothering Raven with such small details now?
"Did you tell him what happened?"
"Don’t worry, I told him you got into a little fight with so thugs."
"Are you an idiot? Garrod would never believe such a stupid excuse."
"You still haven’t told why you’re in such a rush to leave?"
"I have to turn myself in to the Guardians."
"Oh, that nonsense again. Relax, they’ve stopped investigating the incident."
"Stopped? Why? And how do you know that?"
"Iris told . Apparently, an investigator from the Bureau has taken over the case, which forced the Guardians to back off."
I continued speaking while I lazily flipped a bronze coin between my fingers:
"So relax."
Not a second later, his face went pale, and he shouted:
"This is the end."
"Man, you’re exaggerating. They’re just police, right? All we need is to hand them a small bribe, and they’ll leave us alone."
"You don’t understand."
"If you don’t want to pay, no problem. I saved up so money."
"No, you idiot! The Bureau doesn’t take bribes!"
He took a deep breath, then continued:
"You can’t bribe them, you can’t trick them, you can’t even negotiate with them."
"Co on, don’t blow it out of proportion. There’s no evidence, rember? The warehouse burned down completely."
That was trying to reassure him. Though I knew the warehouse hadn’t burned down completely. But instead of calming him, his words made uneasy when he said:
"In this world, there are hundreds of ways to extract the truth."
I opened my mouth to reply, but then we heard knocking at the door. Raven shot a half panicked look. I got up and walked down the hallway toward the door, placed my hand on the knob, unlatched it, and opened it. Standing before were two n.
The first looked to be in his early forties: slicked back black hair, steel grey eyes, a long black coat, and a dark hat shading half his face. Beside him was a younger man, maybe in his early twenties, holding a small notebook, his eyes fixed on sharply.
The younger one spoke first:
"We’re from the Bureau of Investigation. We have a few questions we’d like to ask"
I didn’t wait for him to finish. I shut the door in their faces, turned around, and walked back to the room, where Raven imdiately asked:
"Who was it?"
"Investigators. From the Bureau."
"This is the end."
"What’s wrong with you? Weren’t you the sa guy who smashed that burning rchant and was ready to turn yourself in to the guardians without blinking an eye?"
"Dealing with gangs is simpler. If I had turned myself in back then, the story would’ve ended right there. But now... those investigators will co after , after you, and after the surviving kids."
Why didn’t you say that from the start? I would’ve handed you over to that gang myself. I sighed internally in frustration before asking:
"They won’t break in, will they?"
"Do you think you’re so citizen of the Upper District?"
Before I could answer, another round of knocks rattled the door, this ti more urgent. Raven snapped his head toward and asked sharply:
"Didn’t you open the door?"
"I did. Then closed it in their faces."
"You idiot! Go open it before they break down the lock on our heads!"
I jumped up imdiately and ran down the hall. The last thing I needed was paying for this old apartnt’s busted lock. That stingy landlord would charge three tis the cost of the door. I opened the door quickly, and the younger man glared at , snapping:
"Why did you shut the door?"
I scratched the back of my head and said:
"The place needed so cleaning."
"Are you kidding us?"
Before things could escalate, the older man raised his hand and said:
"Now, will you let us in? We have a few questions to ask."
I gestured them in, muttering to myself:
"Please... as if today wasn’t bad enough already."
...
Inside, I stood face to face with the investigators. The older man pulled two neatly folded sheets of paper from his coat, opened them, and held them in front of .
"Do you know these two n?"
I stared at the sketches. The first I recognized instantly it was Raven, with his all too familiar ugly face. The second was of an unknown man, half his face scarred with deep burns. Still, his face looked better than Raven’s. I had two options: deny knowing Raven or...
"Yes. I know this one. That’s Raven, my roommate. As for the other, I don’t know him. Never seen him before."
The older man put the papers away without comnt. The younger one, scribbling notes in his little book, asked:
"And where is your roommate now?"
"I don’t know. He left early this morning. Packed his stuff in a rush. Seed like he was in a hurry. I tried asking where he was going, but he ignored ."
The senior investigator said nothing. I just stared back at them, keeping my face blank, praying they wouldn’t notice I was lying. Then the older man’s hand began to glow faintly grey, his expression cold as stone. He raised his hand to his chest and muttered:
"The First Law you cannot lie to . From now on, every word from your mouth will be the truth and nothing but the truth."
He lifted the second sketch again and pointed to it.
"Now answer . Do you know this man?"
I looked at the drawing again. His obscure features didn’t stir any mory in . Why would he think I’d know soone like this?
"I’ve never t him in my life."
I prayed with all my heart that the questioning would stop there. That they’d accept it, not ask about Raven, maybe even throw a polite apology and leave. Was that too much to hope for?
But then what happened could only be called a miracle. The older investigator removed his hat, bowed, and with perfect courtesy said:
"We apologize for the disturbance."
He turned and left. The younger one, still visibly shocked, quickly followed. I just stood there, watching them walk away. No one had ever apologized to neither in Jevan’s body nor before. And now an investigator from the Bureau did?
But before I could sink deeper into thought, I felt sothing warm rising in my throat. I looked down drops of blood dripped from my mouth onto the floor. Then a sharp pain tore through my head. Blurred images pushed into my mind mories that weren’t mine.
In one of them, a man with crimson hair and strange violet eyes stood before . Then the scene shifted. The sa red haired man lay in a pool of his own blood, motionless. Above him stood the scarred man with half a ruined face.
***
Investigator Edward Graves left Jevan’s apartnt, his long black coat swaying slightly as he walked. Right behind him was the young trainee, Lionel Gray, his curiosity written all over his face.
Lionel hesitated before asking, unable to hold back:
"Sir, why didn’t you press him with more questions?"
Graves answered:
"I used the Law on him. He can’t lie under its effect. And he said clearly he doesn’t know anything about Valentine Crow."
Lionel frowned, then hurried to catch up with the inspector, asking:
"But maybe he knows sothing about Raven the man who destroyed the warehouse, right?"
Graves sighed and replied without looking back:
"He’s far too ignorant. Just another piece of trash from the Lower District."
Then he turned to Lionel and asked:
"Did you check his background?"
Lionel nodded quickly, flipping open his notebook as he replied:
"It was hard to find accurate information about him. Like most people from the Lower District, he doesn’t have an official record. All I managed to confirm is that about three weeks ago, he joined the Bloodfang gang as a low level recruit."
Graves asked:
"And the other man the water sword user we’re after?"
Lionel flipped to another page before answering:
"His na is Raven. The information suggests he worked with Bloodfang for quite so ti, and he’s a high ranking mber."
"Bloodfang, then? Seems we’ll have to pay Garod another visit. He’s the one who gave us this location."
"But why would he do that? Why give up one of his n so easily?"
"For ordinary gang leaders, that makes sense. Sacrifice one man to avoid the destruction of the whole gang. But Garod was never an ordinary leader. He’d rather die than betray his n."
Lionel lowered his head, deep in thought at the inspector’s words, as the two of them carried on down the street.
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