Jason Ford is the first to make an objection as they approach the door to the storeroom, a mind questioning the validity of their justifications. “W-was that l-legal?”

Sergeant Jarka chuckles at his words. “Do you mean if using an expired liquor license as probable suspicion for a search is admissible in a court of law?”

Underfoot answers the question from a vast mind. “It does fall under probable suspicion. An expired liquor license has precedent in the courts, if you can believe it kid.”

“I-it does?”

“Silo vs. the City of Rasona.” The police mage recalls in a flash of memorized cases. “Classic underdark city rumble, those drow district attorneys are absolutely crazy. It's a landmark case now, and also basically made Rasona School of Law into an actually good law school.”

Sergeant Jarka takes a moment to note the expression on the young man’s face, the half-orc unsure of his own position in the situation. A small tap on his shoulder, an assurance in the sanctity of their missions against the proper operations of policing. “A little legal technicality versus what could happen if we let this one go? I think it’s worth it.”

Jason Ford’s world doesn’t change, a heart hardened against the operations of his comrades.

The gnome owner continues to stammer as they reach the storeroom, a long winded attempt at avoidance executed in a final defiance of the uniformed individuals before him. “Hey hey hey ain’t you going to listen to him?! Yeah, the orc! He says you shouldn’t do it so you shouldn’t!”

“Sir, we have reasonable suspicion.” The police sergeant informs calmly. “We’re searching this property.”

The short gnome objects with a threat. “Y…y…. you’ll regret it! I swear!”

Red eyes stop and stare at the form of the little creature, Jarka’s voice deepening to an ice cold temperature. “What was that?”

Immediately intimated, Iadon Kindfern almost folds upon himself. “Ahhhhhhh~... I’ll launch a complaint?! Seriously! I’ll do it! I’ll go to the precinct’s building! And get you fired! From your job!”

Underfoot coldly follows up the statement from his superior, raised hands preparing the initial movements of somatic spellcraft. “Any more from you and we’re citing you for obstruction of justice.”

Behind private booths and past the bathrooms, the door to the storeroom was enraptured in odd purplish lighting from a single lamp above. Censored to the world by the spectrum of color itself, darkened eyes attempting to adjust to an impossibility with a mild pain.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Open it.” Sergeant Jarka orders.

The glow of blue hues ignites the darkness momentarily as the police mages prepares to cast a spell, magical implication caught by the gnome owner. “Hey hey! Don’t cast magic in there!”

“Why?”

“Ahhh….” A small hinge of admittance on his mind, recollecting itself in a direct lie easily read by the entire Heavy Response Division. “Sensitive ingredients! Yes, for drinks!”

“Drinks that you can’t legally serve.” Sergeant Jarka points. “Now open it.”

“Wait wait wait wait…wait wait! I we can certainly come to an agreement right?! Like, a small donation to your group! Yes! A small donation to the Police!”

An interest peaked, Underfoot raises an eyebrow at the attempt. “How much?”

“Ten gold!”

“Each?”

“...total!”

The police mage chuckles. “Maybe when we’re done here we can work an arrangement.”

Jarka interrupts them with a bark. “Alright come on, open it or we’ll break it down!”

Nearly jumping at the sudden shift in tone, Kindfern brings forth keys from his belt towards the door with shaking hands.

A voice next to Jason Ford brings the context, Officer Ican’s whisper to the rookie explaining an allowance of the law. “Twenty gold is the felony bribery cut off. Underfoot is trying to get a conviction.”

Oh you thought he was corrupt didn’t you?

The half-orc nods quietly in understanding.

A deadbolt shifted away, a well lit room suddenly throwing light into the darkened space.

Stacks of crates created from pallets of unopened glass bottles, logos of liquor companies colorfully disintegrated together in an utter disorganization of inventory. Boxes put away on shelves, more ancient than perhaps the establishment itself telling from their flayed, stained shapes.

“I-if that’s all I’ll go!” Kindfern jumps as he pulls the door open.

Sergeant Jarka stops the short man in his tracks, turning to the tallest member of the division. “Officer Ican please watch him and the door while we conduct our search.”

“Yes ma’am.” The tiefling officer nods as she processes the orders.

Underfoot turns to the now illuminated form of Jason Ford, a free hand opened as they partially reach into the weaves of reality. “You wanna hold my drink for me kid?”

“O-of course sir.” The young man takes the glass, watching as the police mage steps into the storeroom alongside the sergeant.

“Hey! No casting!” Kindfern insists again. “Don’t do it! I’ll sue you!!!”

Hands ripping into the weave, the mage condensing the casting time of Detect Magic into a short three second period of massive arcane power. Mathematical precision rounded up to simple values, a beautiful formula jammed through a rift in reality itself.

Power traveling through hands and through nervous systems, eyes blasting an agal blue as minds interlink with the magic of the weave itself.

“Tell that to the Magistrate.” Underfoot dismisses the gnome, turning back to the young rookie. “Come on kid, let’s search this place.”