[Nexus Headquarters]

After releasing Noel, James's command to the other officers to retreat was firm.

As he trudged back to headquarters, his thoughts swirled in a storm of confusion.

The adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by an overwhelming fatigue that clung to him like a second skin.

The return journey blurred into a haze of anxiety.

His steps were heavy, each one echoing with the burden of his failure.

Upon reaching headquarters, he was advised to rest—a suggestion that seemed almost absurd in the face of his decision.

James knew he couldn't delay the inevitable.

He took a deep breath, summoning the last vestiges of his resolve, and walked into the Robert's office.

The room was oppressive, dominated by an imposing oak desk and the lingering scent of aged leather.

It was a space designed to intimidate, to remind those who entered of the power and authority held within.

The Robert's eyes, cold and calculating, met James's as he entered.

The silence was thick with unspoken disappointment.

James could feel it in the way the Robert's gaze seemed to pierce through him, weighing and judging.

"So, you failed, James?"

The Robert's voice, though soft, carried a chilling edge.

It was not just a question but an indictment.

The words cut through James, starkly confirming the guilt that had been festering inside him since he let Noel go.

"I'm sorry, sir. I failed," he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper, heavy with the weight of his admission.

Deliberately letting Noel escape had seemed right in the moment, but standing here now, under the Robert's scrutinizing stare, the magnitude of his choice loomed large.

The failure to capture his target was a burden he had chosen to bear, yet its consequences felt more crushing than he had anticipated.

"Haa..." Robert exhaled slowly, trying to contain the tempest of frustration roiling within him.

The sound was barely audible but carried a weight of its own, a prelude to the confrontation that was about to unfold.

He rose from his chair with deliberate grace, each movement precise and controlled, his piercing eyes fixed unwaveringly on James and George.

The room seemed to grow even quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation, the air thick with an unspoken tension that prickled against the skin.

As Robert approached James, the silence grew more oppressive, each step echoing the gravity of the moment.

When he finally placed a firm, reassuring hand on James's shoulder, the touch was surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the cold dread that had been knotting in James’s stomach.

"It's okay," Robert said, his voice unexpectedly gentle, like a father consoling a frightened child.

"I saw the video. Noel was a lot stronger than we anticipated."

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James felt a wave of relief wash over him at Robert's words, though the underlying sense of failure still gnawed at his conscience.

Robert's attempt at reassurance was like a balm on a raw wound, offering temporary comfort but unable to heal the deeper damage.

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he turned away, moving with a slow, contemplative pace toward the large window that overlooked the city.

The room seemed to hold its breath once more as he stared out at the sprawling metropolis below, a sea of lights and movement that felt so distant, so detached from the turmoil within the office.

His reflection in the glass was a somber silhouette, the weight of leadership and responsibility heavy on his shoulders.

"To be precise," he continued, his voice now carrying a note of contemplation and weariness, "his powers would be too much for even a superintendent to handle. At least a general would have been needed."

As he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on the cityscape, the lights casting a faint glow on his features.

The look in his eyes was one of understanding, tempered with a hint of resignation, as if acknowledging the harsh realities of their world.

When he finally turned his gaze back to James, the city lights reflecting in his eyes, there was a depth of empathy and a quiet strength that hadn't been there before.

It was a look that conveyed not just understanding, but a shared burden, a silent acknowledgment of the trials they all faced in their pursuit of justice.

"But still, what you achieved was truly commendable. I think you’re genuinely capable of protecting this city. So, I want you to be one of the seven superintendents," he said, his tone steady and resolute.

James’s eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Are you sure, sir?" he asked, his voice tinged with astonishment.

The abrupt shift in the conversation left him reeling, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of Robert's offer.

"Yes," Robert affirmed, his gaze unwavering and intense.

"I’m sure you are now suitable to be a superintendent. And I won’t hear any objections from you. Think of it as a reward for your hard work and dedication."

James stood there, his heart pounding as he tried to process the weight of Robert's words.

The offer was unexpected, a seismic shift in his life that he hadn't seen coming.

The magnitude of the responsibility it entailed was immense, a burden that felt both daunting and exhilarating.

His emotions surged—a tumultuous blend of pride, humility, and a renewed sense of purpose.

Robert's eyes softened as he saw James's internal struggle, the flicker of uncertainty that danced across his features.

"You’ve shown resilience and courage, James. These are qualities we desperately need."

James took a deep breath, feeling the enormity of the moment pressing in around him.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as he considered the path ahead.

Despite his doubts, he knew this was a chance to make a significant difference, to protect the city he cared for so deeply and had pledged to serve.

"Ha... as you say, sir," James finally replied, his voice steady but filled with a quiet determination.

"I accept the offer."

Each word felt like a step forward, a commitment to the responsibility being placed on his shoulders.

Robert’s face broke into a rare smile, a mixture of pride and relief that transformed his usually stern demeanor.

It was a smile that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the trust and belief he had in James.

"Good. So from now on, you're in charge of Grissle Prison," Robert declared, his voice carrying the weight of finality, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

James's brow furrowed in confusion. "Grissle Prison? Isn't Mr. Scott in charge of it?"

"Don't worry. He has decided to retire. Now all you need to prepare for is your promotion ceremony, okay?" Robert reassured him, his tone softening slightly, offering a semblance of comfort amidst the rapid changes.

"Okay, sir," James nodded, still grappling with the whirlwind of revelations that had just upended his understanding of his immediate future.

"Good. You can go now," Robert said, turning his attention back to the window, the conversation seemingly concluded as he gazed out at the city once more.

James hesitated, a lingering thought gnawing at him, compelling him to stay.

"Wait, sir, I have a request."

Robert turned back, eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

"Hmm... what is it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued but his demeanor still guarded.

James took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to ask.

"I want to meet Dr. David."

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, the tension thickening as Robert's eyes narrowed, his expression hardening into one of stern authority.

"His location is a confidential matter. I can't allow you to meet him," Robert said, his tone firm and unyielding, a clear signal that this topic was not up for debate.

"But sir, it’s about Noel. I have some theories that I want to discuss with him," James pressed, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice.

The stakes were too high to back down now.

Robert's eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing James with a penetrating gaze.

"You still want to capture Noel?" he asked, a note of incredulity mixed with a deeper, unspoken concern.

James straightened, his resolve hardening as determination flashed in his eyes.

"Well, sir, since I'm going to become a superintendent, I think capturing Noel as my first case won’t be a bad start."

For a moment, the room was enveloped in silence, the tension almost palpable as Robert weighed James's words.

The city lights cast long shadows across the floor, adding to the charged atmosphere.

Finally, Roman sighed, his posture relaxing just a fraction.

"You’re persistent, I'll give you that," Robert said, a hint of reluctant admiration in his voice,

"Hmm... okay. I will allow you."

Relief washed over James like a warm wave.

"Thank you, sir," he said earnestly, his gratitude evident in every syllable.

"You can leave now," Robert said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips, a rare flicker of warmth breaking through his stern demeanor.

James and George quickly exited the room, the door closing softly behind them with a final, muffled thud.

As they walked down the corridor, James felt a surge of purpose and anticipation coursing through his veins.

The chance to confront Noel again, to uncover the elusive truth, was a challenge he was ready to face head-on.

The fluorescent lights of the hallway flickered, casting fleeting shadows on the walls, mirroring the tumultuous thoughts swirling in James's mind.

Back in the office, Robert remained by the window, the city's lights casting a reflective, almost melancholic glow across his features.

He watched the bustling world outside, a mosaic of tiny, flickering lights and ceaseless movement, each one a story unfolding in the vast urban expanse.

His mind was a storm of thoughts, each decision he made a pebble causing ripples in an endless sea of consequences.

The memory of James's determined eyes lingered in his mind, a vivid reminder of the fire that burned within the young man.

Robert knew the path ahead for James would be fraught with peril and uncertainty.

The weight of his position often felt like a double-edged sword, the need to protect justice at constant odds with the harsh realities of their world.

He sighed, the sound barely audible in the stillness of the room, a soft exhalation that seemed to carry the weight of ages.

Protecting justice was never simple, never clear-cut.

Each decision he made was a precarious balance, a tightrope walk over a line of moral ambiguity and unforeseen consequences.