"Even Sir Reinhard failed to beat him?" Tores asked in disbelief, his brows furrowing deeply.
Malvin nodded, resting his head on his fist. "That guy's a fucking cockroach. No matter how many times you beat him down, he just gets back up like it's nothing," he muttered bitterly. "Probably has something to do with that chi thing of his," he added, his tone laced with frustration.
Clare, ever the optimist, chimed in, "Well, at least by then, you knew the culprits behind the murders and drug dealings, right Captain?"
Malvin turned his tired eyes toward her. "That's true, but honestly, it didn't help much," he replied with a sigh. "Sure, we put up wanted posters and warned people about the drug, made it harder for them to operate outside the slums, but…" He clenched his fist on the table, his voice filled with contempt. "We just slapped a bandage over a cannonball-sized wound."
Jos raised his hand tentatively. "What did Joshua Ambrose mean by 'backing off for a little while' and 'keeping Philip Crude in check'?" he asked, his curiosity mirrored on the faces of the others.
Malvin leaned back, crossing his arms. "I'll explain that to you—after I tell you what happened when we reported back to the Captain and Deputy Chief..."
---
"You let them escape!" Captain Howard roared, slamming his hand on the desk with enough force to rattle the papers scattered across it. His piercing glare landed on the assembled officers before him.
Edward, standing calmly nearby with a steaming cup of tea in hand, raised an eyebrow. "The phrase 'let them escape' implies they had a choice in the matter, dear Captain," he said, his tone measured, yet firm. "And from their reports, it's clear that wasn't the case."
"I deeply apologize for my inability to arrest them, Captain!" Reinhard interjected, his head bowed in shame. Though he looked better than he had after the fight, there was still a weariness in his eyes. "The fault lies entirely with me, and no one else!" he added resolutely.
"That's not true," Daysze said, his voice heavy with guilt as he rubbed the back of his neck. "We were useless in that fight. We needed to be protected. The blame lies with us as well." His attempt to bow in apology was hindered by his age as one would expect, but his sincerity was evident.
"Yes, the blame lies with the three of us, not the rookies," Jae added, her voice unwavering as she bowed alongside Reinhard.
In the back, Malvin and Silas exchanged awkward glances. Their wounds were freshly bandaged, and though their bodies ached, the guilt they felt at seeing their superiors take all the blame was far worse. They stood silently, unsure of how to respond.
Captain Howard groaned, rubbing his temple as frustration boiled over. "Damn it all!" he spat, turning away from the group.
Edward set down his teacup with a soft clink and stepped forward, his composed demeanor unshaken. "While the Captain works through his sulking," he began, earning an annoyed grunt from Howard, "I want all five of you to recount every single detail you can about Joshua Ambrose and Philip Crude—the way they look, the way they talk, walk, fight, and even how they breathe."
He turned briefly, picking up a small copper cylinder from the edge of Howard's desk. Inside was a sample of the drug they'd managed to collect at the sawmill. Though the place had obviously been cleared out before their arrival, this small trace remained—a crucial piece of evidence. Edward held it up to the light, his eyes narrowing as he examined it.
Edward's eyes hardened as he addressed the group again, his tone sharp and resolute. "I'm going to make sure they never walk in the light of this city again," he declared. He lowered the cylinder, his gaze locking onto each officer in turn. "Understood?"
The response came swiftly and in unison, their voices ringing with determination. "Yes, Sir!"
---
"Wow, I wish we got more of that version of the Deputy Chief instead of the usual one," Loreen said with a smirk, clicking her tongue in exaggerated annoyance.
Malvin crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward. "After the Deputy Chief got every detail out of us and sent the drug sample off for analysis, he told us all to… just go back to work," he said, his tone flat but carrying enough weight to leave the others perplexed.
"Wait, hold on." Jos blinked, clearly baffled. "He just sent you back to work? Like... nothing happened?"
Malvin nodded, his expression unchanging. "Yeah. At the time, it confused the hell out of all of us too, but later on, we found out why."
The room grew tense as the Specialists and the Sergeant exchanged uncertain glances, clearly eager for answers. Aeron, ever composed, broke the silence. "Will you tell us why this time?"
Malvin leaned back in his chair, his lips pressing into a thin line as he exhaled slowly. After a brief pause, he finally uttered one word, his voice low and deliberate.
"Copperhand."