Astra's right palm glowed faintly, two vertical blue lines running down its center like a digital interface.

Abigail tilted her head, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What is that supposed to be?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and skepticism.

Alonso, arms crossed, replied casually, "Astra is going to access his memories. She'll see if there's anything useful we can dig out."

Abigail's confusion deepened as she observed Astra. She noticed there was no trace of mana flow—nothing that indicated she was using magic. "Wait," she said, narrowing her eyes, "this... this isn't magic. I can't sense any mana from her at all. How is she doing this?"

She paused, murmuring to herself, "It's like psychic magic… but that's incredibly rare. No mana flow... could it be something else entirely?" Her tone was equal parts amazement and suspicion as her gaze darted between Alonso and Astra, trying to piece together the mystery.

Irritation flickered in Alonso's eyes. "While I appreciate your curiosity, Abigail, it would serve us better to concentrate on the task at hand. Think of Astra as a form of magic tool, albeit one that operates outside the conventional use of mana."

Abigail shot him a sharp look, her defiance shining through. "Excuse me? You might want to check your tone! Just because you've got some ancient wisdom doesn't mean I can't keep up with your little magic show!"

Before she could continue her spirited rebuttal, Michael let out a loud, panicked cry.

Astra, with precision, placed her hand on his forehead. "Initiating neuro transmission protocol," she stated in an articulate tone. A low hum resonated as information flowed from Michael's mind into her systems. Moments later, it was complete. Michael slumped forward in his chair, drool trickling from his lips, appearing utterly incapacitated.

"Is he okay?" Abigail asked, glancing at the unconscious figure with concern.

"He is functioning within normal parameters," Astra responded smoothly. "He is merely unconscious and will regain awareness in approximately twelve hours."

Alonso stepped forward, his voice resonating with authority. "I'll ensure he doesn't go anywhere." With a mere touch, Michael vanished from sight, leaving no trace behind.

Abigail recoiled in surprise, her eyes wide. "What in the world was that?" she gasped, her heart racing.

"I teleported him to a secure location, one where he cannot escape," Alonso replied, a hint of pride in his tone. "And yes, before you inquire, that is one of my blessings."

As Abigail began to calm, she turned to Astra, her curiosity piqued. "What did you find?"

Astra's eyes gleamed with an inner light as she responded, "Allow me to demonstrate." Her gaze focused, and beams of light shot out, forming a three-dimensional hologram. In the projection, Nightowl, Simon, and Michael were depicted together, discussing their nefarious plans in the basement of a rundown slum house.

Abigail's expression hardened. "Nightowl... an A-rank criminal wanted in five kingdoms. His bounty is half a million gold coins." She clenched her fists, determination sparking in her eyes. "No wonder Maria didn't stand a chance. But I will take him down. He is no match for me."

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Alonso raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her confidence. "He sold out his own children," he said, his voice laced with disgust. "What a despicable scumbag."

Abigail nodded, her voice cold and resolute. "People like him don't deserve to live. But we still lack information on where they took Maria."

"We're not entirely lost," Alonso replied, lifting his gaze thoughtfully. "We need to locate Simon. He might have insight into Nightowl's location or their base of operations."

"True," Abigail agreed. "But where do we start?"

Astra chimed in, her voice clear and precise. "Based on Michael's memories, Simon is scheduled to meet a black market dealer to procure illegal magic tools as a gift for Nightowl. He intends to align himself with the vassal suppliers."

Abigail's face darkened at the revelation. "That means Cortar. He's the most notorious black market dealer around. He deals in dangerous tools—outlawed in the kingdom. If Nightowl acquires them, the consequences could be dire."

"Who is this Cortar?" Alonso asked, genuine curiosity sparking within him.

Abigail smirked, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "He's well-connected in the underground. I keep tabs on him. As long as he doesn't cross the line, I let him conduct his business. Plus, I may have indulged in a few of his offerings myself."

Alonso's interest deepened. It appeared Abigail was far more complex than he had initially surmised. They made their way toward the forgotten district, descending a damp underground staircase. The air was thick with the scent of mold and dust, each step echoing ominously. At the bottom, they encountered a large iron door adorned with runic symbols and peculiar carvings.

Abigail knocked confidently, her voice unwavering. "Cortar, it's me."

After a brief pause, the door creaked open, revealing a short man with brown hair, his face a tapestry of scars. An eye patch obscured his left eye, while the other glimmered ominously with a faint red glow.

"Well, well," he rasped, a crooked grin spreading across his lips. "If it isn't the Flaming Bull herself. What delightful trouble brings you to my humble abode today?"

"Cut the crap, Cortar," Abigail snapped, her voice sharp as a blade. "You know why we're here. Where's Simon? Don't play coy."

Cortar chuckled, his voice low and gravelly as he gestured invitingly inside. "Please, come in. I assure you, I'm quite alone. Come on and see I have nothing to hide?"

As they stepped into the shop, Alonso glanced at Astra. "Astra, scan the surroundings. For any life forms." Without hesitation, Astra's eyes flickered with a faint glow, and she began scaning the space.

The shop was a chaotic labyrinth of artifacts and magical tools, a place where order seemed to have been forgotten centuries ago. Crystals hovered lazily in midair, pulsating with rhythmic energy, while shelves overflowed with twisted relics from lost civilizations. Dim, flickering lanterns cast eerie shadows, amplifying the sense of mystery and unease that filled the air like a dense fog.

Cortar's sharp eyes caught Astra's movements, and his curiosity ignited instantly. He rushed toward her, his gaze roaming over her frame with unsettling intensity. "Remarkable... Simply remarkable," he murmured, his tone a mix of awe and obsession. "What are you? This craftsmanship... it's beyond anything I've ever encountered. Your maker must be a genius of unparalleled skill."

Alonso's expression hardened. He had anticipated Cortar's interest, but the depth of his scrutiny was unsettling.

"I am A-utomated S-ystems T-ask R-esponse A-ssistance unit, designated Astra," she replied, her voice resonating with a synthetic clarity that made each syllable distinct and pronounced.

Cortar's grin widened, revealing too many teeth. "Ah, not a mere golem then. No mana stone... You remind me of the automatons from the Vardosian era—lost to time and memory. Even the Magic Council struggles to replicate such wonders."

"I am far superior to any Vardosian automaton," Astra retorted, her tone cold and precise.

Cortar's delight only grew. "Oh, I like her. You've made quite the interesting companions, haven't you?" His gaze flickered back to Alonso, lingering with a strange intensity that made the air feel thicker.

"That's enough. Astra, continue scaning," Alonso commanded, his voice steady and authoritative.

Meanwhile, Cortar's focus returned to Alonso, his expression shifting from curiosity to something darker, more hungry. "You... there's an anomaly about you. Extraordinary... the microscopic constructs coursing through your veins... How is this even possible?" His voice dropped to a reverent whisper, as if he were in the presence of a living artifact.

Alonso's eyes narrowed in surprise, his mind racing. "You can see them? The nanobots? That's impossible. No one should be able to perceive something so small."

Cortar laughed softly, the sound slithering into the air. "Do I look normal to you? I was blessed by the god Daikokuten with the appraisal eye. There's nothing I can't see, my friend. Nothing at all."

Alonso opened his mouth to respond, but Astra interjected, her tone crisp. "Master, I've detected a total of fifty-four life forms within this structure: fifty-three rats and one human male hiding in the cellar."

Abigail and Alonso exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Simultaneously, they turned their gaze back to Cortar, their movements so synchronized it felt preordained. Their expressions hardened, glowing faintly with an unsettling intensity.

Cortar's bravado faltered, a chill creeping down his spine. He forced an innocent smile, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of fear. For a brief moment, he could have sworn their eyes glowed red, a warning of the danger lurking beneath their calm exteriors.