After confirming that Murray and the two men flanking him had melted into the busy crowd at the far end of the street, Mir didn't waste another second lingering on the sidewalk. With quick steps, he snaked his way past the people walking on the sidewalk, having determined his next destination already.
Success was a dangerous result in any endeavor. Mir had learned the hard way how success made one oblivious to subtle dangers and pitfalls occupying every step of life, at every single turn, under every planned path to success.
That's why he didn't believe for a single moment that he had fully warded off the danger surrounding their home, or even himself. Rather, he planned his next step with the conviction that he was still in grave danger.
With such suppositions came paranoid ideas. Mir had a few, and he knew how to verify these ideas. Ten minutes later, he was inside a law enforcement station not too far away from his home, filing a vague report to an officer he was acquainted with.
"The information you've given us is too...errr," The square-faced, stocky old man trailed off halfway through his sentence, looking a little helpless.
"This doesn't really constitute a case anyone would bother to check out, Mir. I mean, I can go with you and take a look myself, but-"
Mir knew this was coming. All he had told the officer was that he had noticed suspicious foreigners hanging around his house and a sensation of being followed by them the entire day. So he interrupted the officer.
"I understand, Officer Galloway," he said in a disappointed tone. "But don't you have any officers capable of ascertaining whether I'm really being followed or not? I can't shake off the feeling. It's driving me crazy!"
Galloway scratched the back of his head for a moment and then called somebody through the comcell band on his wrist. A couple of minutes later, Mir found himself in front of a young officer who didn't really look like he belonged there with the other officers. His sharp, angular features were accompanied by an arrogant demeanor, forming a countenance that Mir had always noticed in the richer circles of society. Even his fellow officers didn't quite seem to feel comfortable around him, evident by the distance between him and them in the dining area of the station. He was the only officer eating alone.
"People these days are getting good at making full use of their privileges, huh?" The young officer remarked in a snide tone between mouthfuls of soup, his gaze holding the same amount of disdain that Mir had displayed in front of Murray just twenty minutes ago. Mir almost laughed out loud as he compared his act with this guy's personality in his mind.
"Just get it done, Orwen. It'll be good for your contribution list, no matter how small," Galloway said. Mir wasn't sure what this contribution list was supposed to be, but it got officer Orwen's attention. He scanned Mir up and down for a couple of seconds and snorted.
"Done. Nobody's on his trail. No spiritual marks on him either. As for scents, there are quite a few dogs in the station. I believe they can sniff things out better than me."
Mir was caught off guard. Firstly, he hadn't expected that the trail-checking would be so brief and simple, even for a powerful Transcender. And secondly, calling the law enforcers dogs was quite a well-known way of losing money.
The most common mutant ability among the law enforcers was Werewolf Transformation, a mutation that granted them strength, speed, stamina and heightened senses for a brief period, perfect for apprehending criminals and rogue mutants. Naturally, words like Dog, Mutt, Shit-eaters, Mongrel, Crossbreed, and Cur had grown to become popular insults amidst critical discussions about their activities. The local government knew that there was no way to stamp out this trend. So they had decided to profit off it and passed a small law that allowed the officers to levy fines on people who resorted to such insults.
Mir hadn't considered that the law enforcers themselves could use it on their colleagues. And Galloway didn't even look shocked, clearly used to it.
"Oh there's no need to call other dogs," he said casually. "I analyzed the scents on him myself. Didn't get anything out of place, except a stink of low-quality anesthetics. Were you hospitalized recently, kid?"
"It must be the stuff we used in the lab class. We've been dissecting mutated insects in College," Mir quickly responded. His focus, however, was on the young officer's face. Galloway had just thrown him a small test, even Mir could see it as a bystander. Officer Orwen's arrogant demeanor faded for a briefest flash, revealing a calculating look.
"My apologies, Captain. I misspoke," he said after the pause, in a much more subdued tone that reeked of fakeness. But that was what Galloway seemed to be seeking. Smiling in satisfaction, he patted Mir on the back and guided him out of the station.
"Officer Orwen may have a problematic attitude, but you can trust his abilities, Mir. If his examination reveals that nobody's been on your trail, you better believe it." Officer Galloway assured him confidently and bade him goodbye.
Mir contemplated the situation for a moment and decided to put his paranoia to rest. But the strangers keeping a watch on Yellow-lake Colony could still be there. So he decided to head over to his parents' shop for now.
The shop was a part of the chain-stores lined up at the entrance of the southern sector of Enet District. More than a hundred stores had piled up here over the years, forming one of the largest marketplaces of the district– a marketplace for low-income households, of course.
Mir saw his father hunched over a large desk, eyes covered by goggles as he repaired a mega-sized data terminal with an assortment of tools he couldn't even recognize. His parents had been running this repair shop together for twenty years now, ever since their marriage. But they had never let their children learn the craft, insisting that they would have better futures if they pursued higher education. It was only after Murray's 'crime' that their attitude changed.
"Something wrong?" His father looked up from his project, having noticed Mir's awkward stance at the door of the shop.
"No," Mir said, choosing to keep silent about the matter for the moment. He had given Murray an opportunity to escape by guiding those three to a part of the city where a Transcender could be found in every ten steps. There were also plenty of low level Transcenders working there whom the brothers knew due to their frequent visits. If Murray could engineer an escape and contact Mir, he could shed some light on what was going on and Mir could then decide what to tell his parents.
"Where's mum and Murin?" he asked.
"Murin is in the back. Your mother went out to buy some parts for this beast of a terminal," his father said, slapping the machine's casing.
At the back of the shop, Mir found Murin studying something on a large screen with utmost focus, a rare sight. Curious, he peeked over her shoulders and saw a series of information about different mutant abilities.
"Diamond-fist? Somebody's interested in close combat, eh?" he chuckled, making Murin jump in surprise. She immediately turned the terminal off and glared at him.
"Can you stop sneaking up behind me whenever I'm using a data terminal?" Her complaint received a loud snort in reply. Mir showed her his fist and said, "You can dream about close combat the day you can meet this fist head on, kid. Grow some guts first!"
The shop's bell rang at that moment, signalling the entrance of a customer. Mir hurried over and saw a short, middle-aged man standing in front of the counter, looking quite nervous for some reason.
"Good evening, how can we help you?" Mir slipped into professional mode, expecting to hear about some shady gadget, as usual.
"I've got this micro-remote here that won't work," the man said, placing his open palm on the counter. Mir looked down and saw nothing there.
"Look closely!" the man insisted. Mir did so, and realized that the man's palm seemed slightly bloated. Then the skin of the palm suddenly retracted to two sides, revealing a glassy, bloodshot eye within.
The last vestige of Mir's consciousness screamed a name.
Nightmare Goat Mutation!