Chapter 25: Chapter 25: The Intersection of Fate
Inside the dimly lit war room of the Mind Hall, Erwin stood in front of a massive table, sorting through stacks of floating case files. The holographic-like pages flickered, shifting as he moved them around with precise gestures, creating a visual timeline of the missing children's cases.
The room had an eerie silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of magical energy, as he connected the red threads between each case.
At first, he thought they were random disappearances, just another tragic reality in the city.
But then—he saw it.
A pattern.
Victims: Human girls.
Ages: Between 7 to 9 years old.
Family Background: Parents were immigrants from the Federation.
Location of Disappearance: Always on their way home from school.
Time Frame: All around the same hour in the afternoon.
Erwin's eyes narrowed.
His gut twisted.
"I really hope it's not the worst thing I think is happening to these kids…"
He sighed, rubbing his temples. He had seen cases like this before in history books. This kind of targeted pattern wasn't just coincidence.
This was organized. Planned. Systematic.
"Two of the same schools," Erwin muttered. "That's my lead."
His real-world body, already on the move, was heading toward one of them.
…
Meanwhile, at the Pinecrest Police Department, Sergeant Lomare sat in the briefing room, stacks of reports and open case files laid out in front of him. He flipped through the papers, his sharp eyes scanning every detail.
A few seconds later, he pulled two cases aside, both marked in red ink. Another two missing children. Same pattern.
"Damn it," he thought. This was getting worse. Looking up, he called out, "Detectives Morhan, Celvise—this one's yours."
The two detectives, already seated, exchanged uneasy glances before stepping forward to grab the files.
Celvise asked, "Sir, do you think this is related to the other cases?"
Lomare didn't hesitate. "Pattern's the same. That's why I want the two of you to focus on this one."
Morhan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "This is starting to look bad."
Celvise nodded grimly. "If it's the same perp—or group—they're not stopping anytime soon."
Lomare crossed his arms, his tone gruff but serious. "We don't have the luxury of 'hoping' for a break. We dig, we find, and we end this before another kid disappears."
With that, he dismissed them, watching as the two detectives left the room, already flipping through their case files. As the door closed behind them, Lomare sat back in his chair.
He stared at the board on the wall. Five faces of missing little girls looked back at him. He clenched his jaw.
"Damn it. I hate these cases."
…
The morning sun peeked through the gray clouds as Erwin arrived at the first school.
The brick building loomed over the crowded street, children's laughter echoing in the yard, completely unaware that some of their classmates had vanished without a trace.
Erwin adjusted his coat, his signature golden-blond hair tucked under a hat, his sharp eyes scanning the area.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's see what you bastards missed."
With a deep breath, he stepped through the gates—And his investigation began.
…
Sebas walked calmly through the streets of Pinecrest City, his composed demeanor commanding attention as he passed through the bustling roads. His finely tailored black suit, paired with his polished demeanor, made him stand out amongst the common folk.
Several pedestrians whispered as he strode by, their hushed conversations barely concealed:
"Why is a royal butler in Pinecrest?"
"Look at his presence—he must serve one of the grand houses."
"Could he be here on official noble business?"
Sebas ignored their murmurs, quickening his pace. He had a mission today—his goal was to copy several books into the Mind Hall, to ensure that the knowledge he required would be accessible to the entire group.
As he arrived at the grand city library, the massive stone structure loomed over the crowded streets. The familiar scent of parchment, ink, and aged books filled the air as he stepped inside.
A woman sat behind the counter, her lips curling into a teasing smirk as she saw him.
"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite visitor."
Sebas looked up from the books he had gathered, his composed expression meeting the playful gaze of the head librarian, an older woman with an undeniable charm. Her sharp eyes studied him with amusement, as if she knew exactly how to push his buttons.
"Why choose these books, darling?" she purred, leaning slightly forward, resting her elbows on the counter—her cleavage intentionally accentuated.
Sebas didn't flinch. He closed the book he was skimming through, set it on the desk, and answered smoothly,
"I plan to travel beyond Brenford territory. I have secured a new position, so I must refresh my knowledge to serve well."
The librarian leaned in further, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Oh? Serve well, you say?" she teased, trailing a single finger along the edge of a book. "I happen to know a few more books that might help you... serve even better, darling."
Sebas, ever the gentleman, let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly as he met her gaze.
"I would be delighted... darling."
Her hand lingered at the edge of his jawline before she walked away, hips swaying, a satisfied smirk on her lips.
Sebas exhaled quietly.
"Even after gaining the power of a Dragonoid, dealing with women like her is still... exhausting."
With renewed focus, he turned back to his books, ready to collect what he needed.
…
Back at LeBlanc Café, in the quiet upstairs living quarters, Zero and One sat cross-legged, facing each other, their eyes closed in deep concentration.
Zero's focus was on expanding the Mind Hall itself, believing that pushing the limits of his mental strength and visualization would unlock greater power.
One, however, had a different perspective.
"I still believe magic is the key," One murmured through their shared consciousness. "If we increase our magical energy and find new techniques, it should allow the Mind Hall to naturally expand."
Zero remained calm, keeping his breathing steady.
"Visualization and intent are the true keys," he responded. "You don't build a kingdom by simply gathering resources. You have to map it out, structure it properly. It's the same with the mind."
One chuckled slightly. "Then let's see who reaches the breakthrough first."
Their quiet mental battle continued, both determined to prove their own method was the superior path to growth.
Downstairs, the café was lively, filled with regular customers enjoying their meals.
Gojo, now fully settled into his role in the café, carried a tray of drinks while playing along with Soma's latest improvisation.
As Gojo walked past a table, a curious elderly man called out,
"Boy, why are you so quiet? Young men like you should be full of energy!"
Gojo paused, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. Before he could answer, Soma suddenly interjected, placing down a fresh plate of food with a grin.
"Oh, don't mind him! You see, back in the womb, I took all the chatter for myself!"
Laughter erupted from nearby tables.
Gojo shot Soma a side-eye glance before shaking his head in amusement.
"I was born just eight minutes later than you."
The customers grinned at their banter, enjoying the natural sibling dynamic they portrayed.
One of the older women at a table smirked and leaned forward.
"Ohh? A silent young man who's good with his hands? That's a rare one! What's your passion, dear?"
Soma quickly chimed in. "Oh, don't let his quietness fool you—get him talking about clothes, and he'll chat your ears off!"
"Ohhh?" Some of the female customers perked up with interest.
A woman sitting at the counter playfully nudged her friend. "We actually need fashion advice for a wedding. Maybe your brother can help us?"
Gojo, hearing this, visibly lit up. His usual timid demeanor melted away as he eagerly stepped forward.
"Oh! What kind of wedding? Day or night event? Traditional or modern aesthetic? Who's the bride?"
The moment he started talking fashion, his confidence blossomed. His words came out smoothly, his passion evident.
The ladies, delighted, began discussing dress options, color schemes, and trends.
An elderly man sitting in the corner chuckled. "Well, I suppose these brothers each have their own interests after all."
Soma watched the scene unfold, his arms crossed with a smirk.
"Damn. Maybe I should've just said we were cousins instead of twins… but I guess this works too." The café was alive with joyful chatter, a small smile formed on his lips.
…
Dusk settled over Pinecrest City, and the once lively streets began to darken, lit only by the glow of street lanterns and shop signs.
In the quiet of an empty alleyway, Erwin walked alone, his breath visible in the chilly evening air. His real-world body retraced the steps of the missing children, while in the Mind Hall, he furiously jotted down notes, piecing together his leads.
He had spoken to every teacher from both schools—Limstar Academy and Pinecrest Public. Some of them raised suspicions, but he had no concrete evidence yet. He needed something tangible.
As he retraced the possible routes home the missing children had taken, a realization struck him:
Each child had a different home, but they all must have crossed paths at a single point—an intersection where they were most vulnerable to being observed or taken.
He stopped in his tracks, his sharp blue eyes scanning his surroundings. The wind carried a damp chill, rustling the leaves near a dimly lit alley.
That was when he saw it.
A small, broken string of pearls lay scattered on the cobblestone ground.
His heart pounded as he crouched down, picking up the cheap beads between his fingers. His Mind Hall self frantically flipped through case notes, searching for any reference to such a bracelet.
Then, he found it.
The last recorded missing child—Ella Myris, age 8—was wearing a pearl bracelet when she was last seen.
This wasn't just a random object. This was hers.
Erwin's pulse quickened.
"I'm standing at the exact spot where they were taken."
His breath caught for a moment, his body tensing.
A shadow moved behind him.
A hand reached toward his neck—swift, silent, closing in on him.
A firm grip landed on his shoulder.
His body jerked forward, his instincts preparing to strike—
"You're Erwin, right?"
Erwin exhaled sharply, snapping his head around.
Two figures stood behind him—Detectives Morhan and Celvise.
Morhan, a stout, sharp-eyed officer, looked at him with mild amusement, while Celvise, a taller man with a calm demeanor, raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing out here at this hour?" Celvise asked, crossing his arms. "Snooping on someone?"
Erwin composed himself. "I'm investigating the missing children cases."
Morhan tilted his head. "So you're the detective who was at Limstar Academy this morning?"
Erwin nodded.
Celvise smirked. "That explains why the teachers kept saying they'd already talked to a detective today."
Erwin looked between the two. "Do you want to help me?"
Morhan raised an eyebrow. "Help you? Since when do private detectives ask cops for help?"
Celvise added, "You know, usually private detectives don't play well with law enforcement."
Erwin didn't hesitate. "There are children's lives at stake. I don't care about formalities. Three brains are better than one."
Morhan gave a dry chuckle. "Funny. From what I read in the papers, you've already got three brains yourself."
Celvise smirked. "Well then, Detective Celvise and Detective Morhan are happy to assist you."
Erwin nodded. "Follow me."
The three of them stepped into the alley, Morhan activating his crystal transponder and speaking into it.
"Control, this is Morhan and Celvise. We're entering Third Alleyway on Opal Street. Code 5."
A brief static reply confirmed their report.
As they ventured deeper into the alley, the air grew stale and thick with something foul.
The flickering light from a single overhead lamp barely illuminated the area, casting long shadows.
Celvise suddenly stopped.
"Do you smell that?" he muttered.
A metallic scent.
Erwin's gaze hardened, and he crouched down, pressing his fingers against a dark stain on the cold stone pavement. He rubbed the texture between his fingertips—it was dry.
Blood.
Morhan muttered a curse under his breath. "This isn't fresh."
Erwin's mind raced. The blood had settled into the cracks of the stone—it had been here for at least a day or two.
"This means someone was injured here," he murmured, "but they weren't killed here. The body was moved."
He stood up sharply, his eyes scanning the alley.
His mind replayed the events—the bracelet, the blood, the missing children taken from different homes.
There was only one explanation.
"They were taken through here."
Celvise exhaled. "So where do we go next, genius?"
Erwin scanned the alleyway until his gaze fell upon a small wooden hut, nestled behind a stack of discarded crates.
It looked innocuous enough—an old gardener's shed, probably used for storing tools.
But Erwin knew better.
His eyes locked onto a single, critical detail:
The wooden floorboards near the entrance were slightly raised.
His gut twisted.
He strode forward, pulling out a hidden knife from his coat, wedging it between the wooden planks. With a single, calculated movement, he pried open the trapdoor.
The scent of decay hit them instantly.
Morhan staggered back, cursing. Celvise gritted his teeth, covering his nose.
Erwin didn't hesitate.
He jumped down first.
The underground space was small, the walls made of damp stone, and the air was thick with rot.
Then he saw them.
Lined against the walls were several small, lifeless bodies.
The missing children.
Erwin's chest tightened. His fingertips went cold.
"No…"
Then, amidst the motionless figures, he saw it—
A single girl, barely breathing.
She was weak, her small frame trembling, barely conscious.
Erwin rushed forward, scooping her into his arms. Her pulse was faint, but she was alive.
Without wasting another second, he bolted for the exit.
"Morhan! Celvise! Secure this location! I'm taking her to the hospital!"
Morhan snapped out of his shock. "Go! We got this!"
Celvise grabbed his crystal transponder, speaking rapidly, "Control, this is Celvise and Morhan! We found the missing childrens, Code 10-54! One survivor code 10-45C being rushed to the nearest hospital by Private Detective Erwin!"
The radio crackled with a response, but Erwin was already gone, sprinting through the streets, his coat billowing behind him.
The girl in his arms let out a weak whimper, her tiny fingers clutching his coat.
Erwin's jaw clenched.
"Stay with me, kid. You're gonna make it."
His mind screamed one singular thought—
"Whoever did this… I'll find them."
"And I'll make them pay."