Xiaodan awoke in the medbay, bewildered by the change of locations. His colleagues were laid beside him, on the floor due to insufficient beds. They too awoke at the same time, looking as confused as he was, especially at the sight of the pair of paramedics attempting to move them to a stretcher starting with Aira, who promptly sent them a cold blank stare as if trying to say, “Let me go.”

In which they did, followed by a proper explanation about how they were about to move them to the hospital. Made sense considering five Third Division officers were found unconscious on the rooftops. However, what sense there was vanished the moment they told of the duration of their sleep.

“Two days?” Hakuto bellowed with a bewildered look. “What do you mean we were out for two days? You should’ve sent us to the hospital sooner!”

“We only recently got info about an open room. All seven hospitals in Mizumitsuru have been jam-packed these past two days due to the Great Sleep,” one of the paramedics said in a panic. He must be referring to how the entire city had fallen asleep all of a sudden, but for seven hospitals to be occupied …

“How many were affected?” Xiaodan asked, urgently.

“Everyone. The entire population of Mizumitsuru fell to a deep coma,” he spoke grimly, having seemingly suffered the same tragedy. “It doesn’t make sense. How could we … how could everyone feel asleep all at the same time, yet woke up fine as if nothing happened. If it wasn’t for our security drones, we couldn’t have possibly known from all this.”

“And what about the tourists? The ones who weren’t originally from here.”

“They’ve been asleep as you all have, sir. But if you guys are awake then—”

Suddenly the door swung open and an officer came in. Her sleek white uniform suggested that she was from the Eleventh Division, tasked with solving Rank A minor crimes like serial thievery and small robberies. Different from the custom-tailored Third Division uniforms, bearing the duty to solve major crimes like serial homicides and dealing with terrorists.

In the case of the Mizumitsuru District, the two divisions alongside the Twelfth and Thirteenth Division, tasked in Rank B and Rank C minor crimes respectively, were stationed in the same precinct rather than apart like other districts. A new policy set by this district’s governor for a faster response time, albeit at the cost of more difficult management for the sole captains of each division.

The moment the officer saw us, shock dawned before her before dissipating into relief. “Thank the stars,” she fixed her posture and bowed. “Nakamura Hanya, Eleventh Division officer on duty, here to relay information from the hospital.”

“Proceed,” Xiaodan said.

“Yes. The hospital recently stated that every single tourist and foreigner have woken up at the same time and is currently proceeding with treatment. The Mizu Hospital director also urged the five Third Division officers in our care to the hospital immediately.”

“Tell the director to wait. We’ll go there as soon as we interrogate the prisoners.”

“Prisoners?” the officer tilted her head.

“Yes, the prisoners. The ones responsible for this entire ordeal!” Xiaodan raised his voice, having remembered for certain that they too were affected by the great sleep.

“Yeah, we’ve given our all to capture them,” Hakuto backed him up. “Don’t tell me you let them escape that rooftop!”

“I’m not following,” the officer once more tilted her head. “Our citizens, after they’ve awoken from their slumber, found the five of you lying asleep in the middle of the streets.”

The fact rendered them speechless, as they turned to the two paramedics, who both nodded in affirmation. But how could that be? It didn’t seem that either of them were lying. So, who moved them? And why didn’t they kill them while they were defenseless?

Could it be him? Xiaodan thought of Kengo Tachikawa, the swordsman who’d been an obstacle in the Third Division’s pursuit of the culprits, yet curiously left everyone unharmed. However, that wouldn’t make sense, as he came from Chiyuhara. Of course, the information provided by Hikari Tsuchida, Captain Kazuya’s brother-in-law, could’ve been a fabrication designed to lure the Third Division on a wild goose chase. But after some investigation, the information he provided was real.

While not everything had been discovered, a man named Kengo Tachikawa was born in the Chiyuhara District and had stayed there up until the Great Rebellion, where he was presumed dead like many. Although the circumstances surrounding his birth remained shrouded, the information prior of the rebellion uprising was done so by the esteemed Chiyuhara precinct’s Captain of the Eleventh Division, Garson Evian.

An immigrant from the north and among the rare few who had forced Fourth Seat, Feng Luo the Blademaster, to go all out in a sparring match. Captain Kazuya was also among these few, but for Garson Evian, a man who did not wield either of the four Prima, to do so was a feat in itself. His name was on the papers, everyone knew his name. Even Xiaodan could faintly remember the dazzling image of his portrait on one of the posters the nobles tried using in order to discredit his name. The only reason he didn’t end up in the Third Division was because of his status as both an outsider and an ordinary human. Xiaodan greatly respected the man despite having never met him. Even his father once spoke about him.

I have to solve this case, but why can’t I seem to connect the clues?

Pondering on it would have no effect. Letting go of the culprits was an error he and his team made and could not fix. Better to gain more information, both on the case and the ascendants’ nature, so that what happened wouldn’t happen again.

“I’d like to talk with Captain Watanabe Aia. It’s been two days, so I’m sure she’ll have something to say,” Xiaodan then looked at the officer and paramedics. Their faces took a sudden turn, sporting downcast eyes as dread now strangely loomed over their heads. “What happened?”

The officer gulped her throat. “Captain Watanabe of Mizumitsuru’s Third Division was … found dead in her home.”

“No way!” Airi first cried out, her expression was in disbelief like everyone else’s. “Watanabe-sensei … I mean, Captain Watanabe was ranked first in her year and achieved the most promising officer of last year.”

“She’s right,” Tsumugi backed her up. “Also, I saw her here when you all were asleep. She’s definitely still breathing. I didn’t even shock her too much!”

“Wait, you did what?” Airi cast a threatening look at Tsumugi, to which her sister, Aira, then came between them.

She spoke in sign language, “Tsumugi’s innocent. Remember, Watanabe-senpai died in her home. Not here in the precinct.” It appeared speaking in logic worked, as Airi’s complexion softened and her expression calmed.

“Sorry,” she said. “Got a little too heated.”

With everyone’s mind calmed, Xiaodan took the turn to speak and had the officer answer questions while guiding them to the investigation room. The Third Division officers who were there looked to be in distraught, but nevertheless kept a level-headed state. They traded info, explaining to each other about what happened at the rooftops and the circumstances surrounding Captain Aia Watanabe’s death … as well as her husband’s.

“Watanabe-sensei was married?” Airi voiced her confusion.

It appeared to have happened ten minutes after they’d woken up. After discovering what had happened, captain Aia Watanabe immediately went straight to her home, only to find it in disarray. She found her husband not long after, down on the ground, his chest impaled by a spear-like object. Not long after, Captain Watanabe turned around and was stabbed in the heart, dying instantly.

“Why didn’t she fight back?” Xiaodan asked.

The Mizumitsuru Third Division vice-captain, Tadashi Namakura, answered, “That’s the thing we haven’t figured out. Watanabe-san was the cautious-type. She would’ve never let her guard down, especially knowing the situation. Either the eskans were incredibly skilled or this was a completely unrelated case.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s either,” said Xiaodan. “It’s not the eskans because they too were affected by the great sleep. I distinctly remember them falling asleep as we did. Also, the timing of it is too close to be called a coincidence. Most likely, the eskans had a third party helping them.”

Likely a Hoshikunian born in Mizumitsuru, which, again, crossed the black swordsman from the list of suspects. However, something about this murder case was suspicious in itself. Especially about the pale-skinned man lying in the kitchen, whose chest was impaled by a spear-like object.

“About her husband, William Yorken …”

“Eskan, like the ones you’re looking for,” he said. “Honestly, I’d have put him as the main culprit had he not been dead.”

“You don’t seem to have a good opinion of him,” Xiaodan pointed out.

“Of course, I don’t. The guy’s as sly as a kitsune. So much so that I initially objected to their marriage,” Nakamura sterned. “Five years ago, two weeks after she became captain, Watanabe-san announced her engagement to this random man from Skadjӧrd, who claimed himself to be a merchant. Red flags from the beginning.”

“Wait, you didn’t know him prior to the engagement?”

“Not at all. He just showed up out of the blue and Watanabe refused to share details about how they met. A secret love story, so she said.”

“Yeah, that’s Watanabe-sensei for you,” Airi added. “Now that I think about it, I remember seeing her all giddy during my last semester. I asked if she had a boyfriend and she seemed very secretive at the time.”

“She must’ve met her then,” said Hakuto. “But still, why keep it a secret. Could it be that they had a hot steamy romance or maybe some S & M play—Ouch!” lightning struck his foot, as Tsugumi casted a disgusted look at him.

“Anyway,” Xiaodan steered the conversation back to the issue. “you said Yorken-san was a merchant. What sort of goods did he sell?”

“Nothing special. Just plain tableware. However, he kept his supplier a secret up until a week ago, when he revealed that he got it from the Gintori District,” Nakamura referred to a lesser district outside the Yanqiang walls, which stretched from the blazing Ranshao Mountains to the mystical Nibokai forest, serving as a barrier between the inner and outer territory of Hoshikuni.

“That’s quite far.”

“Right? But two years after the marriage, Yorken-san forwent his merchant business and started a coffee shop downtown. I hate to say it, but the guy makes great coffee, though the food he served was a little too much for my stomach.”

“And it’s related how?”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Nothing. That was just … I simply can’t forget the taste, that’s all,” he released a cough. “Anyway, after discovering his death, I sent the orders to find out his background. Something Watanabe-san strictly forbids us from doing. William Yorken was the fourteenth son of the Yorken county.”

“He was a noble?”

“A fallen noble. Exiled seven years ago for some unknown reason, to which he then began his life as a travelling merchant, arriving in Hoshikuni a year later. Him and his daughter.” —The fact caught Xiaodan by surprise— “William Yorken was once married to Emma van Lynden of the Lynden county. They had a daughter together, but because of the exile, they divorced and strangely enough, the daughter, Alicetess Yorken, decided to follow him.”

“Have you met her?”

“No, not once. This was the first time I learnt that he had a daughter.:

“The extent of this information … I doubt you could’ve done so in two days.”

“You’re right. Two days wouldn’t be enough to trace him back to the hundreds of skadjӧrdian families. The information we’d gotten was from the captain’s safe which she kept here. Inside were a number of documents about her own husband. Where he was from, the people made contact with, everything needed to know about him.”

Xiaodan took a quick read of the documents. “Very detailed. Makes you wonder if they truly had a loving relationship. However, while this may lead to a motive for the husband’s murder, it still doesn’t explain Captain Watanabe’s … Who died first?”

“William Yorken told forensics. Shaman Bayuwangi also confirmed that his soul left the world earlier than the captain’s. Something about the hardening of the severed threads. Not something I’m an expert at.”

The two Third Division teams discussed things a bit further before coming to a temporary halt. As investigation was still ongoing, no conclusive evidence had yet to be found, and thus, Xiaodan and his team headed out.

“We’ll keep the Takamichi precinct informed of any more evidence we’ll find,” told Nakamura. “But given the strange nature of this case, it might take a while.”

“Always is whenever another Prima wielder is involved,” Xiaodan said, which Nakamura affirmed with upturned lips. “Still, are you sure the numbers were correct?”

“We’ve triple-checked. Questioned the parents, looked through the birth certificates … It is what it is. A total number of seventy-three children went missing during the night of the Great Sleep.”

“We’re not dealing with some ragtag group here. This is a whole organisation. A hundred members or more.”

“Do you think the Ten Seats will involve themselves?”

“No. Missing children aren’t within the scope of their duties. Even if another hundred were to go missing, what they can do remains very little. Unless a detector-type mage was to fill the empty Fifth Seat, there won’t be any aid from them. Not until things got worse.”

“The heavens might as well break open if they were to get involved,” Nakamura looked up to the sky. “I still remember seeing that tree in the sky.”

Xiaodan knew what he was talking about. On the last day of the Great Rebellion, the day after the Disintegrator, Third Seat of the council and arguably the most powerful mage of the century, was slain in battle. The one miracle the Fukyusei Fighters succeeded in doing, as their forces marched forward toward Tenshudo with boosted morale. If a mage as renowned as the Disintegrator could be killed, then surely they could do so to the rest. Just as they did toward the former Seventh, Eight, and Tenth Seat.

However, their hopes were squashed the moment ‘it’ appeared. A pillar of light rising from the center of Juryokaku, the central government hub in Tenshudo, where the Ten Seats set office within its ancient castle walls. Seconds after it rose, the sky cracked and the towering pillar was split, becoming a tree which stretched its branches throughout Hoshikuni, further breaking the skies where its surface touched.

Then, thousands of stars fell. Stars that exited the cracks and descended down, decimating the war-torn streets of Tenshudo and annihilating the entire Tsunahashi District, where the Fukyusei’s base of operation was located. Nothing now remained on the northside of Hoshikuni. A barren wasteland filled only with pinwheels the survivors placed as remembrance for their once windswept home.

“It won’t happen again,” told Xiaodan, having complete certainty over that fact. “Rest assured, the missing children will be recovered and the captain’s murder shall be unravelled. No matter how long they evade our eyes …”

“Justice shall open its eyes and strike them wherever they’re at. That is the sole ending for those who threaten the livelihood of our nation.”

They parted and Xiaodan and his team now strolled along the sorrow-filled streets of Mizumitsuru. Parents, siblings, friends wept for their missing family, stamping posters wherever they could and fought for those spots, only to break down as despair took them over and turned them into hollow shells devoid of joy and purpose.

The atmosphere was getting to them. Even more so inside the hospital, where they came to get a check up. The majority of patients there barely had any physical injuries, only a bruise or two likely from accidents after being suddenly made to sleep, but their poor complexion exceeded those outside. It was as if life no longer mattered to them, with some having rashes around their necks and had their wrists bandaged heavily. A few were even forcibly chained into their hospital beds in fear of causing a ruckus or worse.

The medical check-up fortunately went smoothly, with no substance detected in their systems nor were there any internal wounds. The same went for the rest of the tourists and foreigners, except for this one tourist who was taken to the back. Looking at his dreary looks and delirious eyes, he seemed to have taken an illegal drug. After some asking, it turned out that ten more had been taken for detox and criminal filing due to consumption of Divine Droplets.

I should tell Ryosuke-sama about this. Maybe do a little inquiry.

With everything finished, the five Third Division officers headed out for their next destination. The abandoned buildings, where they fought against the shadowy figures, almost capturing them as the ones behind the missing children, or at least subordinates to the masterminds they should’ve led Xiaodan and his team to.

Unfortunately, they found nothing on the rooftops apart from blood spatters. The culprits simply vanished without a trace. Or that was until something dawned upon Hakuto, as he quickly went down to the grounds outside the building.

“I almost forgot,” Hakuto punched the ground and a coffin rose from the ground. “That guy who fell, he didn’t survive, and I luckily managed to hide him before I fell asleep.”

“Good thinking,” told Tsumugi. “But you could’ve said this sooner.”

“Come on now. You didn’t even remember that he fell.”

“Aira and I were late to the party.”

“But you still saw me head down, didn’t you?”

“He got you there,” Aira signed, while raising her brows.

“What did she say?” Hakuto asked, cluelessly.

“She said that you look like a pig,” the corners of her lips smirked, as Tsugumi lied in both words and sign.

“Those are different signs. I remember it! Ain’t no way she said that, right Aira?” Hakuto looked to Aira, who instead looked the other way, not denying it whatsoever, leaving Hakuto puzzled.

Meanwhile, with Airi beside him, Xiaodan removed the lid of the coffin carved by magic. Inside was one of the swordsmen who Airi killed, after dropping him ten floors high. The back of his head blown and his bones broken all over.

“Sorry, Zhu-san. I should’ve encased him in water right after,” she said.

“He would’ve, with no doubt, escaped should he be kept alive,” told Xiaodan, attempting to reassure his colleague. “Also, even if he was knocked out, being buried underground for two days would’ve certainly killed him …” Xiaodan noticed something, a strange sense of familiarity. He opened the man’s hood and removed his mask.

“No way.”

“This can’t be.”

The man was Hoshikunian. But that wasn’t what surprised them. What surprised them was that the face he bore belonged to a notorious criminal ages back. The Rat Piper, a mage who lured children using his musical-type magic into his den and killed them. His portrait as well as his evil deeds were used as material for case analysis training when they were both training to become officers for the Murikami Order. Unless the Rat Piper was an immortal who survived beheading and lived a hundred years later, there could be no way that the dead man in front of them was him.

“No, there’s no way. This has to be illusion magic,” Airi took out a device from inside her uniform, placing it above the dead man’s chest and pressing the button. Lights flickered in a series of patterns before deactivating, yet producing no results, as the man’s face continued to be the infamous serial killer. It left her even more perplexed.

“Maybe it’s an illusion casted though Inyo?” Xiaodan theorized, having seen and experienced first hand the Prima of Soul’s variety. Talismans that could translate languages, incense that revitalized the body, and, arguably the most famous of them, contraceptive tickets which you rip in order to get its effects. The fact that anyone could use them gave Inyo recognition for being the most convenient Prima.

However, upon further inspection, as in lifting him up with wind and removing every piece of clothing, it didn’t appear that the man was carrying any such items nor did he have a tattoo to indicate any contract. Then again, he was dead, so even if he had a contract it would’ve gone obsolete the moment his soul departed Antryion.

“Hakuto, go back to the precinct,” Xiaodan ordered after wrapping the dead man in a clean white blanket and placing him back in the coffin. “Take him to forensics and have his insides checked.”

“Ugh, so I have to go back?” —Xiaodan raised a brow— “Fine.”

He lifted the coffin and speedily took him into the Mizumitusuru Precinct’s direction.

“So, what now?” asked Tsugumi. “There isn't any more evidence left around here. Considering how many children were kidnapped, I doubt that they’d return here.” Her face looked troubled. “Still, why take the risk? Putting a whole district to sleep … They’ve never done something like this before.”

“Maybe they were pressed for time?” Aira suggested. “Think about it. They’ve been committing a small number of kidnappings this past year to remain elusive, yet we’ve been catching up to their game and now have gotten a scope of their forces.”

“But it still doesn’t make sense,” she argued. “It wasn’t as if we’re going to publicize the whole thing. While public awareness is needed, if people know that every similar kidnapping is connected, it’d cause unnecessary panic. I wouldn’t be surprised if, right now, some decided to pull their kids out from school and hide out in their homes, which would make their intentions more difficult.

“Heck, it’ll make our job difficult just trying to calm the raging citizens since they’re basically saying, ‘Hey, we exist and we are here to steal your kids!’. I don’t know if the ones controlling them are really smart or really dumb.”

“Or maybe they have another objective in mind,” Airi held her chin. “But … Ugh, I can’t think of anything!”

“Same here,” said Tsugumi. “Hey, Zhu-san, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Isn’t he always like that?” Airi then received a nudge from her sister, who pointed at the direction where Xiaodan was looking.

It was the district’s famed Uminome Tower, built since the age of kingdoms which once oversaw the entire Mizu Lake, intended to be a symbol of the Ryuken’s successful northmost conquest of both Yongsoli and Lhongzie. Xiaodan sprinted toward the tower with the three following him behind.

“Is there something there?” Tsugumi asked.

“Let’s say that you were there, watching from afar,” he said. “how much of our battle would you be able to see?”

“Considering it’s height, I’d say all of it until Hakuto’s walls rose.”

“I sensed five people there back then, standing watch as if they were waiting for our battle to subside.”

“They could be the ones who put everyone to sleep.”

“Perhaps. But I continued my sensory magic throughout the whole battle and not once have they moved. Even when we were drowsing to sleep, neither appeared to be affected, though it could be a mistake on my end.”

Climbing up the old tower all the way to the top and leaping further up to its drabby green roof, the four of them could witness the incredible sight of the Mizumitsuru District. Tall ryuken-style metropolitan buildings standing upon cubicle sections, giving a sense of organization and modernity. Yellow tinged upon the surface of the rooftops, with the warm sun rising from the horizon, yet no longer greeted by the people below, who all either hid away in their homes or sobbed to aching sorrow over the loss of their children.

The morning became rather bleak, as if grey was painted over the colours and emotions usually ever present in big cities such as this.

“Will the people here return to their lives if their children come back?” Airi uttered with a sympathetic gaze.

“They will.” That was the only response he could give, but in truth, a few might not be able to stand the thought for more than a day. “Quickly, find any clues about the people here.”

“It’s been two days,” said Tsugumi. “Surely, whatever evidence they left behind it would’ve been blown by the wind.”

“Better to try finding something than doing nothing.”

Suddenly, a whistle was blown. Aira’s whistle, which she used wherever she’d found anything. She showed them a white business card which was slipped between the roof tiles.

“Wheat Palace … What place is that?” Airi scratched her head.

“It’s a bar,” told Xiaodan. “An old bar located on the border of Jincao. My father took me there for my first drink. Didn’t think I’d have to come back there.”

“Are the drinks not good?” asked Tsugumi.

“Very much so,” he said. “They were terrible. I felt like I was eating raw fish, yet that old man of mine somehow liked it. His taste was … incomprehensible to say the least. But since we’ve been invited, it’d be rude to not attend.”

I guess we’ll be having a drinking party as Hakuto intended. Well, sort of.

While the mission ended up a bust, a trail existed for them to follow. That being said, it wouldn’t be completely safe to say that this invitation was not a trap or a lure into a wild goose chase. They didn’t have a choice in the matter. Whatever piece of evidence they find, they must seek its contents toward a definitive conclusion. Such was the duty of the Murikami Order officer.