Frank and Alan looked out of place on Bay Street, where men and women in business wear bustled about, lost in their own worlds of finance and commerce. He saw someone he recognized—a man named Marcus, one of Carl’s underlings. Marcus looked slightly distressed as Frank approached him, his face growing paler with each step Frank took.
"Hold on," Frank said, nudging Alan as he approached the man. “Carl’s underling! Hey!”
Marcus hurried his pace, pretending to not know who Frank was.
“Carl’s underling!” again, he called out, his voice cutting through the crowd of Bay Street. “I need a word.”
"Frank, Jesus christ don’t call me that." The Path operative, Marcus, a tall man in a sharp black suit, seemed distressed but not unfriendly when he saw Frank. His eyes darted briefly to Alan before returning to Frank.
"We need to talk," Frank replied, his tone urgent. "It’s about Ian Huang. I know you recognized that name, you son of a bitch.”
Marcus hesitated, glancing around as if expecting someone to overhear. “Alright,” he said “But you still owe me a big one for that thing I gave you. I got demoted because of it, holy shit!”
“Look, I know about the magical crack. Now it’d be best if we talk somewhere else.” Frank looked up at him straight in the eye.
“Alright, follow me.” Marcus heaved a sigh, finally leading them through the bustling streets to an office building towering over other buildings surrounding the area. Inside, they took an elevator up to the 40th floor, stepping into a plush office environment. Marcus led them to a private office and sat down.
Frank got straight to the point. “We’re investigating the disappearance of two undercover cops and Ian Huang. We got a tip from a Chinese restaurant that some magic crack is going around. First of all that’s illegal, but I don’t give a shit. Just tell me you didn’t plant any of your goons into the police.”
“At my level, I barely know anything. So frankly, I don’t know what the higher-ups are planning,” Marcus sighed. “There’s one guy planted in your precinct. Just one. That’s it.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Just one? Then what do you make of this?” He pulled out his phone and showed Marcus a video of the warehouse incident. “Aren’t these your goons?”
“I’m not trying to be racist, but these guys look more like Europeans than Americans. I’m pretty sure those are knights that I’ve been hearing about from our spies,” Marcus replied. “But we did have one guy at that warehouse to monitor the situation with what you call magical crack. It’s called dust, by the way.”
Marcus continued, “My guy is still at that warehouse. He sent me a message yesterday after midnight saying two civvies went into the big boss’s office. Looks like those two civvies came straight to me. Man, do I have great luck.”
“Don’t smart-ass your way out of this,” Frank grinned. “Why the monitor on this warehouse?”
Marcus took a moment before answering. He knew Frank’s nose was sharper than a bloodhound’s when it came to sniffing out leads. One way or another, Frank would find out, and the pot-bellied man didn’t care about making a mess in the chase. Of course, it’s better clean than messy.
“Dust, as you call it, magical crack, is heavily needed these days. Unfortunately, it’s very addictive. There was a bad batch a year ago that killed a few of our suits. We blamed it on the Jiuling, but they claimed it was a clean batch,” Marcus explained. “Some of our best guys are on their deathbeds, and front-line healers are too important to waste on those in comas. It’s no wonder the higher ups want to hit back.”
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“What does this have to do with the missing men?” Alan cut in, curious about the connection between the dust and the missing men.
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you know it or not, but rifts are appearing more frequently these days. Dust is like a last-ditch effort steroid we use in emergencies when we need a boost in energy,” Marcus said, looking at Frank with a dark expression. “There’s a side effect. It’s the only drug that affects those with mana, and its addictiveness is way higher than any known human drug. I haven’t experienced it, but I’m scared of it myself. I don’t want to get into a situation where I’d have to use dust.”
“And that warehouse is the only one supplying the East Coast of North America?” Frank jumped in.
“Correct,” Marcus quickly replied. “We don’t know what it’s made of, but it doesn’t matter right now. We’re closing 3 to 4 rifts per day, and it’s saving our suits. If any more of our men die, there’d be a mass genocide on the East Coast from what comes out of those rifts, and the jig is up for all of Aur.”
Frank and Alan nodded, both not knowing what to say at the scale of the problem they’d just dived into.
“We’ve been tracing the supply of dust, and it looks like Jiuling doesn’t even know there’s an unknown supplier tampering with their stock. Hence the bad batch we got last year,” Marcus continued. “Funny enough, our spies in the Knights told us they didn’t have any issue or they found the bad batch. Does that answer your question?”
“You’re telling me those 2 men planted in the precinct were Knights? Thought they didn’t really operate on the East Coast or even in America,” Frank commented.
“That’s what you think. You’re only halfway into this world, so you don’t know anything, Frank,” Marcus grumbled. “The higher-ups are being elusive about this. There’s an attack group being formed as retaliation for what happened last year. I don’t know what they’re planning in all this chaos with rifts appearing at an alarming rate.”
Before Frank could say something, Marcus cut in. “Remember that crazy lady from the forest who chased you for a hundred miles? She came out of a rift.”
“Shit, Frank. There’s no way out anymore ain’t there” Alan whimpered.
“Relax. As much as I hate to admit it, these guys are more competent than the military or the police,” Frank retorted. “I get the gist of what you’re telling me. We help you sniff out the third-party supplier, and you’ll cooperate in finding the missing men?”
Marcus grinned. “You’ll need to be careful, though. The Knights are gearing up for war against the Jiuling. Those two they lost could’ve been big shots for all we know. Those are just hallway rumors, though.”
“You suits are also gearing up for war while all this shit is happening. Fuckin’ higher-ups, man,” Alan commented.
“What do you think about the video? What kind of magic was it?” Frank asked, not expecting an answer.
“Good news, it’s the same spell as the incident from 17 years ago. Bad news, it’s the same spell as 17 years ago. Back then, random people popped up all over the world. This time, the criminal targeted your suspect specifically.” Marcus sighed. “You’d best give up this suicide attempt. Even the higher-ups don’t care about that thing. Just find your missing men and move on.”
“That sounds like great advice. I’ll take it! No more magical cases after this. Definitely none,” Alan joked while sighing. “This case will be the death of me.”
Frank and Alan got up and walked out of the private office.
“See you again, Frank. Hopefully not soon.” Marcus waved goodbye.
Frank was lost in thought in the elevator as it descended to the ground floor. It was odd that a lady monster was in a forest in the first place. Now the troubles in Aur were starting to seep into the world of mortals. The Path were the most competent organization he’s ever known, and the monster should’ve been dealt with before he even found the lady monster. It would have meant there were cracks in the Path’s armor.
Dust was used to plug up the holes in those cracks, and Marcus surely wasn’t telling him the full picture, but it was enough for him. Pieces of the puzzle in this case were starting to set in, yet it was still too miniscule in comparison to the scale of the whole puzzle. Even the faintest scent could lead to the pile of shit if he was the one sniffing it out.
“Go home and pack your bags. We’re going to the airport.” Frank ordered.