Chapter 17: Failure

The creaking of silver doors again.

Long lines of handcuffed men and women. Walking beneath the red and blue lights, one by one they got out of the vehicle in which they were transported.

"So this is where we've come to..."

Last in line, Miruno muttered, hiding his face. He looked at the handcuffs on Izzy's hands beside her.

He had his own hands free. The group she led to investigate the disappearances in the town of Homen had been directly involved in the conflict. Miruno wasn't among them, so he didn't feel the discomfort of the shackles on his wrists, but that didn't stop him from being at least a suspect.

"Yes..." Izzy whispered, narrowing her gaze with her clear eyes to the stony ground.

Even so, Miruno was equally, if not more, stressed by the situation.

They had been taken to the Homen Municipal Police Station, both their own group and the "men in white”, albeit in different vehicles.

Under the streetlights in the cold night, they walked through the crowd of police officers going from one place to another.

The large police station was divided into two wards, and so the groups were divided. Most of their friends were sent to the rear ward, while Miruno and Sein would be accompanied by the men in white in the main ward.

Before they were separated, one last glance passed between Izzy's eyes and Miruno's green ones.

Izzy continued through the corridors until finally reaching the cell block. There the group was selectively sectioned and confined.

Strangely, only dangerous items were confiscated. In the words of the officers, they could keep the "colorful clothes" they were wearing. Even Izzy was still wearing her football helmet.

When the incarceration was complete, Izzy and Gitta remained outside.

"Won't they lock us up too?" Gitta asked, looking around.

"The cells are full. Come with me."

An officer answered him, and with the help of his colleagues, they led them to an office.

It looked like any other small office, but it had a peculiar additional room. Glancing through the window, they noticed it was a white interrogation room.

Seeing that more than one person had been allowed in, and the window's polarization had been disabled, further confused Izzy.

"It's easier to talk to acquaintances. We don't have to convince them we're the good guys."

These were the words of the man waiting for them, sitting at the edge of the only table in the room:

Rian Verseo.

Also waiting on the table were their chairs, a cup of tea, and a packet of biscuits for each of them.

Even in a setting like that, it was possible to sense the imposing presence of this man.

With a gesture of his hand, he signaled the officers to leave not only the room, but the entire office.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Take a seat."

They did.

Rian sat across the table, sipped his hot cup of tea, and stared at them.

"Your number has exceeded the capacity of our station. I'll probably lock you in a cell with men, Izzy. I apologize for that. We'll keep an eye on you, of course."

"It's okay."

"And are your injuries okay? They must have treated you." The tall man turned to Gitta.

"Yes, sir."

"Your name is Gitta Vintana, according to the papers you were carrying; a visitor from the United States. If you need a translator, I can get one for you."

"I understand you well, sir. Thank you."

"Your accent shows. Nice to meet you, Gitta Vintana. My name is Rian Verseo, chief of police for this precinct. I'll ask you a few questions about the incident, if you don't mind. What were you doing inside that supermarket?”

"Well..."

"They found us by chance..." Izzy replied calmly.

"Visiting a supermarket almost late at night and wearing football uniforms doesn't seem like a coincidence to me."

Izzy removed her helmet and placed it on the table.

"We dressed them just for safety."

"To pick a fight with those men. Why?"

"They attacked us the moment we arrived. I assume they were planning to rob us, just like they did with the supermarket. We responded to the call from the Homen neighborhood. They told us that some people were missing in the area."

"Was the name 'Jeylon' among those people?"

"Yes."

"...”

Rian crossed his arms and sighed.

"Izzy. You've had training through other means, I understand, but you haven't yet received formal authorization to intervene in these matters."

"I apologize for that. My intention was simply to uphold the law and help the common citizen, according to the Doctrine," she said without a hint of hesitation or hesitation, but the phrase was hardly believable.

"..."

"Excuse me for intruding, does that mean she's a police officer?" Gitta asked.

"She's not, and she should know that for sure. But I'm guessing you don't know that, considering your position... This will help you understand better, considering you are a foreigner.”

The man stood up and paced around the room, papers in hand.

"Probably you don’t know, but years ago, this nation was one of the safest and most prosperous in America, until a tragic event caused irreparable losses."

"(The riot of the 26th?)" Gitta thought.

"The police force was reduced to barely prevent coups. Most were transformed into a military unit directly linked to the government and its interests, in order to prevent another tragedy from occurring. However, the remaining police forces were unable to guarantee adequate security due to a lack of personnel, so we focused on major crimes and investigations. The growing wave of insecurity was overwhelming, until the imposition of the "Rylee Doctrine."

The name seemed immediately familiar. He glanced at Izzy for a moment, but she was still paying attention to the story.

"This doctrine promoted better education in schools, and police training as a mandatory subject starting in high school."

"Are you referring to self-defense training? I’ve seen some other countries doing that as well."

"That would have been a way to cover it up, but at this point, it would have been foolish. It's more like forced military training, but the community was convinced that the people would be trained according to citizen security guidelines."

"'If we can't defend them, we'll teach them how'... uh," Izzy added. "That way, everyone would be trained to administer justice..."

"Subject to the law, of course. However, the training provided was basic and insufficient, due to the high costs for the institutes. This, coupled with the interest in self-defense itself, attracted the attention of schools of 'that' type."

"Self-defense schools?" Gitta persisted with the idea.

"And martial arts in general."

"Yes... For reasons of legitimacy, schools undergo a regular review process by the police, and thus receive a certificate that approves them in the eyes of society. For their part, students had to present a criminal record, since it was illegal to teach criminals or ex-convicts. Although it may seem hard to believe, the economic situation and the fear of the people made everything progress smoothly. The government claimed to have insufficient resources due to the wastefulness of the previous administration, so they allowed all this."

"(And some even stole the credit when they noticed the support of the people to secure their political positions...)" Izzy mused. "But a new problem arose: illegal schools. I must say, they are abundant in the La Quilla province."

It was as if the same person were speaking.

Rian paused for a moment. That opinion could be considered an attack on his duties as a police officer. He took a sip of his tea and continued without further flinching.

"...Fortunately, the affordable costs of legal schools, their availability, and their quality have kept illegal schools from expanding, but they still exist, and they accept anyone, criminal or not. That's a separate issue we handle."

"Excuse me, if I understood correctly," Gitta questioned, also removing his helmet. "In this country, do you provide military training to your students to prepare them as security officers? Sorry, I didn't quite understand everything entirely."

"The course is offered for one year after completing high school," Izzy replied at her side. "Only if you're of legal age, you have an official record of activity to work as a 'Vigilante'."

"That's an extravagant way of calling it, Izzy. In reality, we empower trained citizens to administer justice within the framework of the law."

"...Extravagant, and accurate," she thought.

The man continued his story.

“...While it's true that the community accepted this doctrine, not all cities were willing to follow it to the letter. For this reason, these communities could hire the services of others. Ranks were established based on achievements, efficiency, and activity on each citizen's crime record. However, nothing guaranteed that the work they paid for would be completed as desired; there was no regulatory institution, only trust in the rank updated on the crime records, based on simple reports. Of course, if something went against the law, such as fraud, we would intervene, but as I mentioned, the lack of resources leads to minor cases going unresolved...” He took a sip from his cup to cool his throat and sighed, “Pardon me if I've talked too much. I'm used to giving talks in schools.”

“The Rylee Doctrine is, then, a security service for the people, executed by them, and managed by them, simply put. However, you know very well that's not enough." Izzy commented.

"...”

Izzy felt it was time to put her ideas out there. Considering the man's attitude, she thought he would be willing to listen.

So she placed a hand on her black helmet on the table and let out her objective. But her clear gaze remained directed at the reflection of the helmet. Perhaps that helped him accept any answer he might hear.

"Based on what you've said, you've never agreed with how things have been handled up until now. Mr. Rian, we are willing to cooperate with the police."

Again, she was proving to be too direct in her proposal.

Rian simply sat down and interlaced his fingers.

"Cooperate with us? For what?"

"To restore order."

"..."

His brow furrowed immediately, but he quickly returned to his usual calm. Something bothered him, and it was in the girl's frank gaze. For someone as upright as him, it was the first time that honesty had been a cause for annoyance.

"Order, you say? ...You misunderstand me, Izzy." I know the country is in a… precarious state right now, but it's our duty to maintain order, not the other way around." He shook his head. "Or rather, what is the order you're referring to?"

"..."

The young woman decided not to answer. Hearing those words was enough to know he wouldn't be willing to listen anymore.

However, unlike the old men who had scoffed at her proposal at Homen Central, he didn't give even the slightest smile.

"Pay attention to your surroundings. You know where you are. I'd arrest you for the crime of sedition right now, but, as hard as it may be to believe, this is still a democracy; I have no evidence that would warrant an arrest."

"(Is he going to pretend he didn't hear what she just mentioned?)" Gitta thought. He was starting to worry about the likelihood of them actually being imprisoned.

"What we really have is a homicide case at hand."

"!"

Such a statement was unexpected for both of them, and Rian could see it in their expressions, especially Izzy's.

"But everyone was..."

"A real shame. It must have happened several days ago," Rian commented. “(That was indicated by the state of the bodies.) Among them the supermarket owner... But as civilians not involved in such a crime, you don't need to know more... Nothing is certain until the Forensic Investigation Department delivers the results."

"..."

"If I believe your alibi, you were nothing more than victims of an unexpected and unfortunate encounter, wasn't it? This will be reported as a street fight at most. Besides, I have real suspects to deal with."

As a minor incident, they would let it go. Gitta's aching shoulders finally relaxed. Izzy, for her part, still had one concern.

"Among those arrested...? No. Forget it."

"...Good. Once the report is finished, I'll release you with a warning. There are many more to check their backgrounds. Don't make me check yours again.

A small knock was heard on the window. One of the officers had arrived with news. Rian came out of the interrogation room to greet him.

"Sir, a colleague is calling. The shelters in La Quilla South... Ah---“

Rian immediately raised his hand. They were still at the exit of the room, they could be overheard, and indeed Izzy was paying attention.

The man closed the door and invited his colleague to continue.

"Excuse me. The delegations in La Quilla South tell us they lack personnel to deal with the virus outbreak in the area."

"A second outbreak? ...I hope it won't be necessary to block the routes and borders. We'll finish this incident and work on it."

"Sir, do we have enough men?" He raised an eyebrow. "We still need to address the looting in the capital and surrounding areas. We’re barely sleeping now."

"We'll do our best to coordinate with the other precincts. Also, I understand the citizens have set up some truly spacious shelters. It's impressive to see this level of cooperation with us nowadays..."

Rian opened the door again, revealing Giita and Izzy, who were still seated and waiting for the signal to leave.

"This is Officer Joseph."

"A pleasure to meet you."

"You both may leave. Your belongings are waiting in the information offices at the entrance."

"Why are they wearing those sports uniforms…?" the officer asked out of curiosity.

Izzy simply picked up her helmet and silently walked alongside Gitta toward the exit.

The thick, authoritative voice stopped her once again.

"Izzy Rylee. You know very well who we are, and who we aren't."

"Yes, why do you mention it?" the young woman replied indifferently, turning slightly.

"To make it clear," Rian said, straightening his police uniform. "That's all."

“...”

Another failed mission.

She'd improved, although her persuasion skills weren't enough. Ultimately, Izzy needed to take more public speaking classes if she really wanted to convince others of her cause.

That was the thought running through Gitta's restless mind as he followed her. That thought, and the fact that he had to pick up the cookie on the table. He was starving.

“We're currently in a police station.” Izzy said “Don’t you think it’s better to stay safe here? You and her. The Immigration Police would be happy to help you."

"Maybe you're right... I'll discuss it with Haeri."

"..."

"So you don't carry firearms in this country? It's very different from mine... Or any other."

Reducing her speed, Izzy turned to look at him, and they continued walking at the same pace under the brightly lit hallways.

"Do you still need me to explain...? Yes, we don't carry firearms. Instead, because of the increase in martial arts schools due to all this, there is an increasing interest in traditional weapons."

"Traditional..."

"Large quantities were brought into the country, although over time the government banned their entry for endangering public safety, which was useless considering the opening of blacksmiths."

"Isn't that contradictory?" Gitta questioned.

"Weapons are needed to defend people. If you look at the bigger picture, you might say it's ridiculous... Still, this produced a limited number of these weapons, as well as schools that teach them how to use them. These weapons were called 'replicas,' and that's what they were.”

She sighed. She looked distressed, and Gitta noticed. He was exhausted too.

At such an hour, he began to think of nothing but going to bed after a long day, so he chose not to ask out of mere curiosity.

"'The last bullet'..." It was another name the doctrine went by.

"...”

"...Let's get the others."

Gazing into an invisible distance, Izzy and Gitta continued their way through the corridors of the first pavilion; now deserted.

The wind that had blown strongly was now soft and calm. A sound rustling the leaves of the tall palm trees and bushes could barely be heard.

The same was true for the second pavilion of this Police Station.

Inside one of the cramped cells, the silent, Argi Blakemore was lost in thought looking at the new bandage on his own hand. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, proving his mobility.

He was locked up with three other individuals: Dregan Bardawulf, Sein Deakin, and Miruno Saggiatore.

Dregan adjusted his white trench coat and rested peacefully on his bench. Unlike Miruno and Sein, who seemed preoccupied with the situation they had gotten themselves into.

"White strands..." Sein wondered.

He was distracted by curiosity when he saw whitish hairs on Argi's head. The latter immediately noticed he was being watched, so Sein quickly looked away.

"..."

He hadn't noticed, but Argi had been looking everywhere with extreme discretion since they arrived.

"I think I've had too many drinks this time, heh," Dregan said, massaging his forehead.

No one commented on it.

"I'm sure I could have done something, heh, but the party was pretty crazy." His bright amber eyes met Argi's sapphire ones.

Then he turned to Miruno and Sein, who had no idea what he was talking about.

"Sein, my boy. How's your life been? Of all people, I didn't expect to see you in a cell." He straightened.

"...H-Hi."

"We were in the same class just a few years ago. Time flies. You look taller." He turned to Argi, then returned his gaze to Sein with a chatty gesture. "What's become of the others? Izzy, Doger, Garwin... Does the man still play football?"

"Not really. I mean, not that much, I guess…"

"What a shame." I would have loved to fight him again, but what can we do?' he commented with a smile and pointed at Miruno with his finger. 'And I remember you... You played with us too. I'm almost certain of that. Well, maybe you were one of those players who trained for two days and were never seen again. Like you, Argi.”

His gestures were unusual for Miruno. Scruffy like his appearance, and out of step with his reality, more common in the slums.

He didn't really remember who he was.

Back in the days when American football teams were formed as the 'Youth Recreation Pilot Project' at San Ramael High School, Miruno only participated with his friends on rare occasions due to his poor physical condition and health.

He was surprised to have forgotten someone as peculiar as the young man before his eyes.

“Your name was...? Maybe I remember…. Nah, tell me.”

“...Miruno Saggiatore.”

"Saggiatore?"

Dregan immediately became excited.

"Are you serious? Yeah, you must be. You have the same eyes, huh. Are you related to Clay Saggiatore? You know, the disgraced politician who appears on TV whenever the opportunity arises. I know him personally." He thumped his chest to reinforce his point.

"No. I'm afraid we're not related, but if you know him, does that mean you also know a young lady named Cadie, correct?"

"Distant cousin, hm? Oh, yeah, her younger sister. What about her?"

"Do you happen to know, by any chance, where she is currently? I have a need to know."

"I don't know, bro. Say, did you see me as her maid or something?"

"... If possible, could you take me to her?"

"I'm a busy man. Why would I waste my damn time with you?" Dregan raised an eyebrow. "Gimme a goddamn reason."

He forgot, for a moment, he was speaking to a criminal. Still, maybe he could provide something to convince them. Criminals usually act for profit.

"I… know who you are, and what you do. I can provide you with information of interest to you about events that are coming in the not-too-distant future."

"Hm? Really?"

At first, the man acted uninformed, but soon after, he laughed as if he'd been caught at his own game.

"What can I say? I am famous, though. So what do you know that I don't?"

"A new uprising."

"..."

Sein, at his side, didn't know what his friend was doing. He himself decided to remain silent, thinking that perhaps it was simply a ruse to avoid running into them again.

The strange man only responded with a broad smile. His amber eyes shone with immeasurable emotion.

The person they shared that tiny cell with was none other than...

“Dan Bardawulf, alias 'Dregan'.”

The comment came from outside. Dregan immediately turned, frowning at the guard on the other side of the bars. He was carrying a large file.

He wasn't alone. Five other police officers armed with PR-24 batons accompanied him.

Why did they require such a level of security for handcuffed suspected criminals?

“We have the very leader of the 'Wolf 8' narco gang. Bring out the others, we'll interrogate them. But there's nothing to ask this son of a bitch." One of the officers pointed his telescopic baton at Dregan. "We finally got him."

One of the officers opened the cell with a set of keys.

It was at that moment that a loud bang was heard in the air, alarming everyone in the police station.

It came from outside. The unmistakable sound of an explosion, a big one.

“—!”

Such a moment of distraction wasn't wasted by the cautious Argi Blakemore, who was waiting for an opportunity.

“Gh!”

He launched himself at the officer holding the keys, delivering a solid front kick to the stomach. The impact was such that it pushed the officers behind him and caused them to drop the keys to the ground.

Knowing his escape intentions, one of the officers tried to retrieve the keys, but Argi was faster, stretching out his leg and dragging them into the cell.

His hands had been handcuffed behind him, so it would take him too long to free himself.

“Take the handcuffs off,” Argi said, his expressionless gaze focused on Miruno.

Dregan used his feet and body to prevent the officers from entering or locking the cell. Sein was paralyzed with fear. Miruno was the only one he could count on.

“...!”

It was a test. Seeing the serene blue eyes of the man waiting for his action, Miruno felt like he was being tested.

He swallowed a bit and hurriedly reached over to grab the keys from the floor.

"W-What are you doing?!" Sein shouted.

After being released from his handcuffs, Argi grabbed Dregan by his shirt and pulled him back.

"H-Hey! Tsk!"

This time it would be Argi's turn to stall while Miruno freed Dregan inside the cell.

With his hands free, Argi didn't hold back at all.

He was incredibly skilled. Despite fighting barehanded against armed opponents, he demonstrated a skill only an experienced fighter could display.

"Aah!"

The fact that the officers had to enter the cell one by one left their numerical advantage in tatters. And in the latter, each one fell heavily due to Argi's precise and skillful blows to vulnerable areas of the body. Skilled in combat and strategy.

He had advanced to the point of being able to leave the cell and go out into the hallway, where he held one of the few officers who wasn't yet writhing in pain, against the wall.

"Heh, finally! Shit!" Dregan exclaimed, dropping his handcuffs to the floor.

Soon, lights pierced the cell windows and illuminated the hallway ceiling; a blaring car horn sounded outside.

"Let's get outta here!"

Announcing his retreat, Dregan approached the restrained officer and, with a jab to the jaw, easily knocked him off balance until his legs gave out. The officer fell, his body shaking incessantly on the floor. Brain damage.

Sein and Miruno could barely comprehend what was happening. The two men in front of them were truly dangerous criminals. There was no other way to describe them, since they didn't hesitate to beat up more than five police officers protected by the law.

"What do you expect? A hug?" Dregan turned to look at the pair still inside the cell.

Sein's legs were shaking like noodles. He was terrified of the men.

Anyone who left that cell would be considered a criminal without fail. Sein didn't consider himself a person that break the rules. On the other hand...

"Y-Yeah..."

His partner Miruno finally stepped into the hallway.

"H-Hey, Miruno!" Sein whispered, but the blond boy ignored his words.

"That's it boy!" Dregan exclaimed. "Leave that guy alone. He's a pussy."

The rush to leave had already taken Argi to the end of the hallway to reclaim his possessions at the reception desk.

When he realized Dregan wasn't following him, he turned around when he briefly saw that one of the officers on the ground had gotten back to his feet and was about to swing his baton at Dregan's head.

"DAN!" he shouted without thinking.

Dregan heard and saw the officer behind him, sweeping his baton aside with one arm and striking with the other at the same time.

However, he didn't stop there; he lunged at the man and began beating him brutally without restraint.

"FUCK! DON’T! CALL! ME! LIKE THAT!" he yelled at the dying, bloodied man. "I-I've told you a thousand times! Shit!"

He was deranged.

Argi approached, unfazed by his tantrum. He readjusted his weapon on his back; a small white Wakizachi sword, and said:

"It was faster. One more second and you'd be with them on the ground." He pointed, tilting his head at the officers scattered on the hallway floor. "Let's go."

"Sh...!"

They both headed for the exit. Miruno's hesitation didn't last long. He swallowed a bit and quickly followed them, leaving Sein behind.

Outside was chaos. Police officers were scouring the entire precinct. Alarms and whistles blared.

Apparently, they weren't the only ones taking advantage of the distractions to start a riot at the police station, but they were more cautious.

They crossed through passageways hidden by bushes and buildings until they reached the nearest exit.

A modified red McLaren F1 MP4 12c sports car was waiting for them. An unknown man who drove it got out of the car to greet them.

"I've got good timing, don't you think?" he said, smiling, holding the keys. "And who's that kid?"

"No good timing, bro. They almost took my head off in there." Dregan snatched the keys and got into the car with Argi and Miruno.

The man was about go back in, but Dregan locked the door he was about to use.

"Hey. It's locked..."

"We’re gonna go grab some chicks. There's no room for you in this car, baby."

Stepping on the accelerator, the driver didn't care about the speed limits as he cruised through the streets in the middle of the night.

"Take care of the rest!"

Watching them drive away down the dark road, the ex-driver in white took off his glasses and picked up the lit cigarette he'd been holding.

"Asshole..."