Junwell took a steady breath. "Alright. We leave. Now."
Kollren nodded slightly. "Fine. Take care of yourselves. And… where did that red-eyed one go?" he asked, referring to Vaelor.
On the ground floor, Vaelor was already searching frantically. Robert was nowhere. The governors were gone too. He rushed to the basement—empty. The ropes were cut, chairs overturned, faint drag marks on the floor.
He grabbed a wounded Senate man lying against the wall—the same one Vaelor had beaten earlier—and forced him awake.
"Where are they?" Vaelor demanded.
The man coughed. "Two… two guys in police uniforms came. Your friend and the governors were in the basement. Your friend stood at the staircase… tried to resist… they knocked him out. Took the governors."
"Didn't your boss stop them?" Vaelor asked sharply.
"Kollren never came to the basement," the man replied weakly. "And… they left something. A card."
Vaelor searched and found an envelope tucked near a broken cabinet. He opened it.
Inside was a single line:
"From now on, a person who hates crime… will become it."
Vaelor's eyes narrowed. What does this mean? Who is it for?
He didn't show the note to anyone. Instead, he ran back upstairs.
Kollren looked at him. "You met your friend? Well, I may have told a small lie—"
"They're gone," Vaelor cut in. "Robert and the governors. Both."
Kollren's composure cracked for a second. "Impossible. The building is surrounded. How did they get out?"
"I asked your man. Two in police dress took them."
Junwell's face tightened. "What if they were High Chancellor's people? If that's true… we're finished. Our alliance just began and already—"
Kollren shook his head. "If they were the High Chancellor's men, they would've left your friend dead. Why take him? And how did they pass through that crowd?"
Vaelor stayed silent about the note, his mind racing. Is Robert safe? Who planned this?
Caeson snapped, "Enough talking. We have to leave."
Vaelor looked at Kollren. "You're lucky we're leaving while you're acting reasonable."
Caeson added sharply, "He's not in our team. He's an officer."
Junwell stepped forward. "We move."
On the rooftop, both sides gathered briefly—Junwell, James, Caeson; Kollren, Derent, Goffey; and Vaelor standing apart.
Kollren handed Junwell his personal number. "Call if necessary."
Junwell asked, "If the governors are missing, what now?"
Kollren replied calmly, "Whether they're killed by me or disappear another way, responsibility will fall on you by default."
Junwell gave a faint smile. "Is that so?"
James said quietly, "We should go. Things are escalating. And this will affect my brother too."
From a distance, someone seemed to be watching them. Vaelor felt it—an invisible gaze.
Without another word, he leaped across the rooftops.
Caeson shook his head. "He's always in a hurry."
They all dispersed through different directions.
Vaelor took a taxi. The driver kept glancing at him strangely. Something felt off. When Vaelor stepped out near Eagle Eye, the streets felt different. People stared at him unevenly—whispers following his steps.
He entered the office.
Inside were Truman, Jackson, and Augustin. They were mid-argument.
Vaelor said urgently, "Robert's been kidnapped."
All three turned sharply.
"You're here?" Truman asked.
"What's going on? Why is everyone staring at me?" Vaelor demanded.
Truman pointed to the wall-mounted television. News anchor Elane Russo was reporting:
"Special Investigation Officer Vaelor has been linked to terrorist activities alongside members of the Three Families Union. He was last seen at the Senate's Second Division base. The governors are missing."
A rooftop image appeared—half edited—showing Junwell and Caeson. Vaelor's silhouette blurred beside them.
"There's a misunderstanding," Vaelor said. "I need to explain."
Augustin said firmly, "Police and authorities are on their way."
Jackson stepped closer. "Where's Robert? I thought we became friends."
Truman hesitated, then stepped toward Vaelor. "Surrender. Come closer."
A strange silence passed between them. Truman leaned in and whispered something quickly.
Suddenly Vaelor punched him and bolted.
Truman fell to the floor.
Augustin and Jackson chased immediately. Truman got up slowly, muttering to himself, "I know you're innocent. That's why I helped."
When he had stepped close earlier, Truman had whispered: "Act like we're arguing. When you get the chance, hit me and run."
Vaelor had hesitated. "It won't hurt you?"
"It will," Truman replied. "But go easy."
Vaelor did try go too easy but it was hard hit.
He escaped into an empty street, breathing heavily. Where do I go now?
One name surfaced. Perun. I need his help.
Meanwhile, far west in Cavorite City, Perun sat inside a chamber belonging to Clarence Dorothy. The room was filled with glass walls and multiple cylindrical chambers. Inside them—human figures suspended in fluid, part of some experimental process.
Perun looked around calmly. "So," he said, "you wanted participants?"
Clarence adjusted his glasses. "Yes."
Perun's expression was unreadable. "Then maybe," he continued quietly, "I'm interested."