* * *
[Some of the unprocessed evidence items pose a risk of being reclaimed by the remaining criminals, so the transfer to Department 8 has been canceled. Department 7 will take over jurisdiction. Given the high probability of criminal Espers appearing, this case’s records should be destroyed, and it should be reassigned to Department 7.]
“What… What the hell is this? Then what are we supposed to—”
Creak—.
Just his luck. Or rather, the complete lack of it.
As Zereno’s face turned pale, the door that had refused to open no matter how many times they tried finally let out a rusty groan and swung open.
Ben swallowed dryly, his gaze fixed on the door as it seemed to open in slow motion.
He instinctively stepped back, and in that moment, a man aiming a gun at them spat out a curse.
“You fuckers! Central bastards crawling in here on your own?!”
Behind him, five or six others appeared, gripping clubs in their hands.
This was bad.
No, this was beyond bad.
Zereno had boasted about how this was just cleanup duty, yet he managed to screw everything up over a single misread file?!
Ben was an idiot for not realizing sooner that the Zereno from years ago hadn’t changed at all.
“Run!”
The moment Ben saw the glint of the gun’s barrel and the armed thugs behind it, the only thought that filled his mind was getting the hell out of there.
He spun around and rushed down the stairs, nearly tumbling as the sound of hurried footsteps chased after him.
Bang—!!
“Ahh! They shot! They fucking shot at us!”
“Shut up!”
Zereno wasn’t even hit, but the mere sight of a bullet lodged in the wall had him shrieking.
Ben had no choice but to drag him along as they fled, scolding him in the process.
Once they got far enough to duck behind the end of the corridor, Ben peeked out the window.
The iron gate outside was slowly closing.
It had been wide open just moments ago.
They must have messed with the controls.
“…We’re screwed.”
Ben usually avoided saying anything too pessimistic, but now that their escape route was cut off, he couldn’t help but sigh.
So that’s why they hadn’t immediately given chase…
The only silver lining was that, despite all the noise, there was no reaction from any of the other rooms.
That meant their opponents were limited to the ones they had already seen.
But that was hardly reassuring.
Neither Ben nor Zereno were trained combatants.
Anyone could see they were at a disadvantage.
“Ben, what the hell do we do? We’re so fucked.”
“Oh really? You think I don’t know that? Just call someone, now, if you have your phone!”
“Oh… Right! My phone!”
Crouching in the second-floor hallway, Zereno fumbled to pull out his smartphone while keeping an eye on their pursuers.
Watching him struggle, Ben couldn’t help but recall how he had acted all relaxed that morning, thinking, ‘What are the chances something urgent will happen?’
He wanted to go back and punch himself in the face.
Rubbing his temples in frustration, he turned to look at Zereno.
His hands were trembling as he clumsily navigated his phone screen.
Damn it.
The moment we get out of this, I’m buying my own phone.
No matter what.
But their enemies weren’t going to wait patiently for Zereno to make his call.
The sound of heavy boots echoed as they stormed down the corridor.
They had no more time to waste.
Ben sprang to his feet, and Zereno hastily followed.
“Wait, I haven’t made the call yet—!”
Ignoring him, Ben turned toward the stairs, only to see their leader—a man with a scarred, scowling face—lifting his gun.
Bang—!
“Shit!”
Startled by the gunshot, Zereno yelped and dropped his phone.
The smartphone hit the cold cement floor and tumbled away, oblivious to their desperation.
Without it, they had no way to call Central for backup.
Ben made a snap decision.
He dashed forward to retrieve the phone.
Across the hallway, burly thugs with baseball bats and knives charged toward him, their eyes burning with malicious intent.
The phone was just five steps away.
If he wanted to grab it and retreat in one piece, he would have to endure some level of impact.
Fuck—!
Throwing his weight forward, Ben lunged.
His fingers brushed against the phone.
Bang—!
A scorching pain flared through his left shoulder.
He didn’t need to look to know—he’d been grazed by a bullet.
But at that moment, relief came first.
The phone’s screen was cracked but still intact.
Clutching it tightly, Ben turned to retreat—only for a shadow to loom over him.
“Ben, watch out!!”
Thud!!
A baseball bat came swinging down.
If he hadn’t ducked at the last second, it would have cracked his skull open.
But there was no time to dwell on that.
As another attack came, Ben crouched low and threw all his strength into a kick—aimed right at the thug’s shin.
Crack—!!
“Arghhh!!”
His opponent let out a pained wail and toppled backward.
The sheer weight of his fall sent a few others crashing down with him.
Without wasting a second, Ben bolted toward Zereno.
“Behind you! Behind!!”
“Do I look like I have time to check?!”
‘Or you could, I don’t know, help?!’
If he turned around now, he’d probably get a knife between the eyes.
Ben barely managed to reach the cover of the wall where Zereno was.
But it wasn’t over.
“You Central bastards! You raided us once, and now you’re back for more?!”
Smack—!!
The moment Ben rounded the corner, he swung his fist.
It connected squarely with the thug’s face.
He had timed it for when he disappeared from their line of sight, and the attack landed dead center on the man’s forehead.
With a strangled cry, the man crumpled.
“Oh, nice. That was nice.”
Ben wasn’t a brawler, but he wasn’t completely useless either.
Still, his knuckles stung like hell.
If he had to throw a few more punches, his hands might not survive the night.
Even so, taking down two or three out of six—excluding the leader—was a decent start.
Catching his breath, Ben urged, “Call. Now.”
Glancing around, he saw the thug he had kicked being helped up, likely with a fractured shin, while the one he had punched lay unconscious.
That left three, now seething with rage.
“8th Division, Zereno Osselli speaking! We have a problem at case number 9271! We need immediate backup! Right now! I swear to god, if I get hurt, I’m filing a work injury claim! Send the closest person, now! Now!!”
At first, Zereno tried to sound professional.
But by the end, he was practically begging.
Whoever was on the other end of the line was probably caught off guard.
Ben didn’t blame them.
This was likely Zereno’s desperate way of handling the crisis.
“…At least 20 minutes? Are you fucking kidding me—Aghhh…!!”
Judging by his rising volume, Ben got the gist of the conversation.
No matter what, they were on their own for 20 minutes.
Ben checked his wound.
Blood had seeped through the torn fabric of his shoulder, but thankfully, it wasn’t deep.
That didn’t change the fact that they were outmatched.
No weapons.
No backup.
No choice but to survive.
“For the love of god, just get them here as fast as you can! You hear me?! Huh?! I’m hanging up now!”
As Ben’s worries deepened, Zereno ended the call.
Outside, the voices of the remnants echoing toward them rang loudly.
“Requessstinnnggg backuppp? You’re really calling for backup right now? Huh?!”
“Boss, we gotta show those Central bastards a lesson! Let’s call for backup too!”
“You idiots! If Central sends reinforcements, you lot are nothing but side dishes—useless leftovers!”
There was no way to shut them up.
Zereno’s mouth flapped like a sheet of paper in the wind, and Ben had no idea how to deal with him.
Nothing had been resolved yet, and here he was, pouring oil onto a raging fire.
Ben couldn’t help but be impressed in a different way.
“Wow, are you done running your mouth?! A guy like that doesn’t need backup or anything else! I’ll show you my power instead! Hey, kid, take this gun and bring me a water canister!”
“What… What the hell? What are they planning now?”
“They’re clearly going to attack. We’re not waiting around for that. Get up.”
Ben was sure that whatever they were up to, it wasn’t anything he’d be happy about.
And since he had no intention of sitting and waiting, he and Zereno moved toward the emergency stairs at the end of the hallway and made their way down to the first-floor corridor.
The real problem was—how were they supposed to hold out for the next twenty minutes?
“You’re finished now! I didn’t want to go this far, but you forced my hand!”
The remaining enemies had also come down, using the opposite staircase.
Aside from the change in floor, the standoff was exactly like it had been in the second-floor hallway.
With the long corridor between them, Ben and Zereno stood on one side, while the leader and his goons glared at them from the other.
The boss, who looked the most furious, grabbed the water canister and violently yanked it open before splashing the liquid into the air.
Oh, shit.
“…An Esper….”
The water, which should have been pulled down by gravity, floated weightlessly in the air, forming glistening droplets.
A blatant defiance of natural law—an ability only an Esper could wield.
Ben had assumed they were all just regular people.
But now, their already slim chances of victory felt even smaller.
* * *
