After leaving the train station, they walked onto one of the city's main streets. The wide sidewalks had both old and modern buildings. The old buildings had stone facades with detailed carvings, while the modern ones were made of glass with digital displays. The mix of styles showed how the city combined its history with new technology.

The street was bustling with activity, much busier than the plaza they'd visited earlier. All kinds of people - humans and half-humans of every age - filled the streets. Some were hurrying to work, while others were shopping or just taking in the sights.

The street was lined with high-end shops on both sides. Their windows were brightly lit, showing off the latest fashions, jewelry, and art pieces. Each shop front looked like a small museum, decorated with golden details. Old historic buildings stood beautifully alongside newer ones.

This grand street led straight to the palace, making the walk there feel special. At the end, you could see the palace's towers shining in the sun. Trees and flowers lined the path, creating a perfect blend of nature and architecture.

"We'll buy clothes from one of these stores after we leave the palace." said Geminga.

As they walked, Ran got distracted by the smell of food from a nearby stall. Her face showed how hungry she was.

Geminga noticed this and said, "You can eat all you want after we leave the palace. We shouldn't meet the Queen smelling like food."

They walked down the beautiful street until they reached the palace's main gate. Guards wearing shining armor stood watch on both sides, looking alert and professional.

When the guards saw the man, they immediately changed their behavior. They lowered their metal spears and stood at attention - a clear sign that his uniform commanded respect.

"The uniform is working better than we expected. When we return to Zeta, we must ask which rank this belongs to." the man said to Geminga, curiosity and surprise in his voice.

After the guards saluted, the palace doors opened without a sound. Inside was a beautiful courtyard filled with colorful flowers and green trees. The sunlight shone down on the well-kept garden, making it look warm and welcoming - exactly what you'd expect for greeting important visitors.

Inside the palace, they were amazed by its beauty. The high ceilings were decorated with gold, and beautiful crystal chandeliers hung from above, creating thousands of light sparkles that lit up the detailed wall carvings and paintings. Tall marble columns twisted up to the ceiling, and their footsteps made musical sounds as they walked through the wide hallway. The walls were lined with gold-framed mirrors and old statues, making the space seem endless and filled with wonderful art.

"There's way too much decoration here. Every corner drips with decoration, as if simplicity were a sin." said Geminga, eyeing the dazzling décor critically.

Ran, however, was enchanted. Her eyes sparkled as she absorbed every detail, from the fine wall workmanship to the magnificent chandeliers, from the carved columns to the patterned flooring.

They stopped walking when a woman blocked their way. She wore elegant, well-made clothes that didn't quite fit in at the palace - they weren't fancy enough to be a noble's outfit, but too fine to be a servant's uniform.

Her extraordinary appearance commanded attention: half her hair was snow-white, the other half a deep ocean-cave blue, perfectly complementing her moonlight-blue skin. The fine, wavy hairs fell to her collarbone, dancing with each movement.

She wore yellow and dark blue clothing that resembled modernized warrior attire, revealing countless battle scars. Over her right eye sat an artisan-crafted eye patch adorned with ancient symbols and geometric patterns. A prominent scar curved from her neck to her cheek—likely a reminder of a near-fatal encounter. Her bearing and scars marked her as a veteran of countless battles.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her single eye sharp with displeasure as she surveyed them.

"I hope your rank exceeds hers. That would simplify matters." Geminga said.

"I'm a detective." the man said casually. "You know that famous Crown of Cintara? I need to find it. It's gone missing... I thought I'd gather some information. Some questions—" The woman silenced him with a sharp gesture.

"We need to work on your communication style. Use more formal, professional language when on duty. Protocol matters in situations like this." Geminga advised, her tone both instructive and concerned.

"You talk too much. Who do you need to question?" the woman snapped.

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"Don't mention the witnesses yet—that's weak strategy. Request to meet the Queen directly. Multiple options could cost us control. She seems capable of exploiting any leverage. The safest approach is to aim straight for the top." said Geminga.

"I need to speak with the Queen."

"You want to speak with the Queen?" the woman's voice dripped with mockery. "No one sees her now. Absolutely no one. Talk to those incompetent guards who failed to protect her if you must—though they won't last long. They'll be executed soon for their failure."

"Where are they?"

"In the infirmary. But first, show me your official identification."

"Geminga. I don't have any identification, what should we do?"

"Zeta really sent us unprepared. Either he trusts us too much or he’s a fool. Tell her we're on a covert mission—that's why we don’t have identification on us."

"How am I supposed to know you're a royal official?" the woman demanded.

"The Queen's life hangs in the balance, and I'm working to save her. This isn't mere investigation—it's crucial to her fate. Retrieving the crown could save her life. I see no reason for you to obstruct this mission. What more proof do you need?"

The woman studied him intently, assessing his bearing and expression. After a pause, she said, "Follow me."

"Thank you, Geminga," the man whispered, smiling sheepishly. He owed this progress entirely to his guidance, merely following his wise counsel. Far from resenting this dependence, he felt grateful.

As they followed, he observed the woman's otherworldly features more closely. Her hair's unique coloring and moonlight-blue skin clearly marked her as non-human, though he tactfully avoided mentioning this.

She led them to the palace's lower level infirmary. The air grew colder and damper as they descended, the ornate walls giving way to bare stone blocks. A wide door waited at the corridor's end.

Inside, injured guards' groans and murmurs filled the air. Some lay unconscious from severe wounds, while others stared blankly upward despite their bandaged limbs. Their pained expressions and sweat-beaded faces revealed deep trauma. Sharp medicinal scents and antiseptic odors permeated the dim room.

"Here are our heroes." the woman said contemptuously. "Most can't speak. Some are poisoned, others severely wounded. The attacker knew their business."

"What kind of poison?"

"I don't care. See for yourself." she said and left.

Medical staff worked tirelessly, cleaning wounds and administering medicine. Their bloodshot eyes and sweat-soaked uniforms testified to hours of continuous work. The man approached a middle-aged staff member by a patient's bed.

"Greetings. I am a special detective dispatched by the kingdom to investigate. I have several questions."

The staff member sipped from his cup. "What would you like to know?"

"What's the guards' condition? What's causing their pain?"

The staff member inhaled deeply. "They're infected with an unknown poison. Our treatments aren't working. From their wounds..." He glanced anxiously at the beds. "A strange mist emanates. We don't understand it. This was no ordinary attack."

The man examined an unconscious guard's bandaged wound. Through the white dressing rose thin gray threads of mist, curling briefly before vanishing. No bandage could contain it—clear evidence of supernatural injury.

"The mist prevents healing. The wounds are rotting. A special team is investigating, but we're baffled." the staff member added.

"Is anyone well enough to answer questions about the incident?"

The staff member pointed to a distant bed. A guard lay there, his long black hair spread across the pillow, tired dark eyes fixed on the ceiling, his face lined with pain.

"I have some questions for you."

The guard acknowledged him with a slight nod.

"Tell me about the incident. Every detail matters."

"That day... we were in Hatrugar, escorting someone named Lian. Political business, I think— I don't know much about the political details."

"Describe him. Anything unusual?"

"Exceptionally tall and thin—two meters at least, barely seventy kilos. Despite his build, he moved with strange power and grace. I'd never seen anyone quite like him."

"His face? Age?"

"Black hair, skin, and eyes. Black robe too. Young-looking, no wrinkles. Said he was thirty."

"Go on."

"We got to the palace through SPA. I stood guard at the door while Lian went to meet with the queen. Then suddenly, I heard chaos from inside - glass breaking, furniture being knocked over, and screaming. When we ran in, we found a terrible scene: the queen was knocked out and all the guards protecting her were dead! Lian was gone, but in his place was this strange shape made of mist that looked like a person! It moved faster than anything I've ever seen and attacked us. Before I could even see what hit me, I felt terrible pain. I only woke up yesterday, and even the strongest medicine can't stop the pain..." He started crying as he spoke. "I feel so terrible about all of this! I failed my duty - the queen we swore to protect was harmed, and my fellow guards... many of them died! I should have been more alert, should have reacted faster, should have done something, anything different! The guilt is eating me alive, even more than this poison. I wasn’t good enough. I... I just can't forgive myself for letting everyone down!"

"Thank you. Rest now." the man said kindly. The guard's guilt and shame struck a deep chord with him. He felt he knew exactly how it felt to fail at an important duty, even though he wasn't sure why he felt this connection.

"How tragic..." a woman's trembling voice echoed in his mind. "Such young, brave guards, meeting such a fate..."

He searched the room for the speaker, finding no one. "Great, another voice in my head..." he thought, sighing internally. This complicated matters further. Surely Geminga heard it too, but maintained his usual silence.

He glanced at Ran taking notes. His young assistant had gone pale, lips trembling, eyes tear-filled. The guards' suffering had clearly affected her deeply. Even her writing hand shook.

"We're finished here. Let's go," the man said.

As they turned to leave, the guard's trembling fingers caught his sleeve, the movement clearly causing pain.

"They'll execute us... won't they?" the guard's voice quavered, fear mixing with a strange hope—as if death might free him from his pain and guilt.

"I don't know." the man said. Unable to face the guard's desperate gaze, he left with heavy steps, bearing the weight of their suffering, powerless to change their fate.