Zero walked down the stairs from the living quarters, toweling his long, damp black hair. He'd just finished a long, hot shower to wash away the lingering stress of Erwin's shared experiences. A single drop of water clung to the tip of one of his horns before falling to the wooden floor.
Soma, who was practically vibrating with excitement by the counter, grinned. "Let's goooo! As you promised, the next card is mine!"
Zero chuckled, the sound muffled by the towel. "What if it's someone like Batman? How will that help you become a greater chef?"
"Then I will be a great chef by day," Soma declared with dramatic flair, "and vengeance by night!"
"Hehehehe, that's good," Zero laughed. He looked around the quiet, empty café. "Where's Sebas? Shouldn't he be here for this?"
"Oh, he said he had to go back," Soma replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Something about the Vipers having the same size brain as a snake and needing constant supervision. Hehehehe."
"Well, alright then," Zero said, tossing the towel over a chair. He closed his eyes and put his hands together in a familiar, prayer-like stance. Soma immediately followed suit.
"Dear Cecil," Zero began, his voice a low, reverent murmur. "God of Celestial Paperwork, Divine Intern of Domain 6-A. It is I, your humble servant, once again. We've had a rough few days. A little Gacha luck would go a long way. Bless us with a card that is useful, powerful, and preferably, not a child. May your coffee be ever hot and your stapler never jam."
"AAMEENNN!! Hallelujah, babyyy!!" Soma shouted, throwing his hands in the air.
In a swift motion, Zero turned to the register and tapped the [11x Draw] button twice. The Gacha point balance plummeted from 2076 to a meager 76. Two shimmering, foil-wrapped packs materialized from the slot and hovered in the air.
The image on the first pack showed Cecil fast asleep in a celestial hammock, wearing an oversized cowboy hat that covered his eyes and a piece of straw dangling from his mouth. The second pack had him raising a tall, frothing glass of beer in a hearty "Cheers!" pose.
"Okay," Zero said, looking at the two bizarre images. "This has to mean something, right?"
"Well," Soma mused, "I guess he just wants to have fun on the foil packs."
"So, which one do you want for yourself?" Zero asked, fanning both packs out toward him.
Soma rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "Hmmmm, let's see..." He pointed a decisive finger. "I'll take the beer one for me. So let's open the sleeping cowboy first."
Zero chuckled. "Okay, let's open this one, shall we?" He took the sleeping Cecil pack and tore it open, pulling out the eleven cards within. One by one, he revealed them. The first ten were, as usual, [+10 Magical Energy], each one dissolving into golden dust that was absorbed into his body.
Then came the last card. A faint, almost apologetic shine emanated from it. Soma held his breath. Zero's heart thumped in anticipation. He flipped it over.
[Background Character]
Character Origin: The Multiverse
Traits: The formless, featureless figures you see in the blurry background of every universe. They exist only to populate a scene and have no thoughts, skills, or will of their own. Utterly and completely unremarkable.Grants the user the ability to be slightly more difficult to notice in a crowd.
The faint shine on the card flickered and died, leaving behind a dull, cheap-looking piece of card in Zero's hand.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, a snort from Soma. Then, a roaring, gut-busting laugh. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Good thing I didn't choose that one for me! You got the ultimate trash card! It's not even worth the paper it's printed on!"
Zero's face, which had been a mask of hopeful concentration, twisted into one of pure, betrayed rage as he stared at the useless card. He threw his free hand to the ceiling.
"DAMN YOU, CECIL!!!"
…
The night was nearly over, the clock ticking towards a new day. Inside the roped-off perimeter, under the harsh glare of magitech lamps, Erwin and the detectives finished the painstaking process of dusting for and lifting the latent fingerprints.
"It's incredible," Morhan said, her voice filled with a quiet awe as she looked at a card bearing a clear, whorled print lifted from a hidden section of the wall. "The fact that something so simple, something that's been on our hands our whole lives, could actually revolutionize how we solve crimes."
"You don't say," Celvise added, shaking her head in wonder.
"Don't get ahead of yourselves," Sergeant Lomare cautioned, though his own eyes held a spark of excitement. "We need to make sure this is really as foolproof as he claims."
Erwin got to his feet, stretching his back. "Sergeant Lomare is right," he said. "We've done the easy part. Now comes the hard part: we need to gather the fingerprints of every staff member from the schools and match them against everything we've found here."
"Still," Morhan insisted, her excitement irrepressible, "it's groundbreaking." She threw a friendly arm over Erwin's shoulder. "You should join the Watchers. We need your kind of thinking to better our methods."
Erwin allowed himself a small smile. "I'll think about it," he said. "But for now, I need both of your fingerprints."
The two detectives froze, their expressions of admiration instantly replaced by shock. "Do you suspect us?" Celvise asked, her voice sharp.
Erwin chuckled. "No, it's not that," he explained patiently. "The three of us, plus myself, were the first ones to enter the crime scene. Inevitably, our own fingerprints will be present. We need to collect our own prints to eliminate them from the equation, so we don't mistake one of us for the perpetrator."
Lomare's eyes widened slightly, realization dawning. "That… actually makes perfect sense," he admitted.
Morhan grinned, her shock giving way to renewed admiration. "Damn you. You really have thought of everything, haven't you?"
Celvise smirked, shaking her head. "Alright. What do you need us to do?"
Erwin pulled out a small ink pad and a few blank cards from his investigation kit. "Press your fingers onto these. We'll use them as the control group to compare with the ones we collected inside."
One by one, Morhan and Celvise pressed their fingers down, leaving clear, dark imprints. Lomare watched with keen interest, then folded his arms. "So, what's next?"
Erwin placed the new fingerprint samples into a sealed envelope. "Tomorrow, I'll come to the watcher precinct. We'll need to take samples from our list of suspects—the teachers and staff from Limstar Academy, Pinecrest Public, and all the schools connected to the other victims."
Lomare nodded, his mind now fully committed. "I'll do you one better," he said. "I'll have patrol units collect the samples first thing in the morning. Come to the precinct at noon. By that time, we should have the fingerprints. Just tell me exactly what you need to get this done."
Erwin quickly explained the simple tools required.
"Good," Lomare said with a firm nod. "Consider it done. This could be a real game-changer, Erwin."
Erwin's eyes darkened slightly, the brief moment of academic discovery replaced by a cold, hard focus. "It's not about changing the game," he said, his voice a low growl. "It's about catching the bastard who did this before another child disappears."
Lomare placed a firm, steadying hand on Erwin's shoulder. "Then let's catch them."
As Erwin finally walked away from the now-secured crime scene, his thoughts burned with a cold resolve. The killer was out there. And Erwin would not stop until they were found.
…
Erwin arrived back at his boarding house, the weight of the long, grueling night pressing down on him. As he walked up the final flight of stairs, he saw a sliver of light coming from under his door. He went on immediate alert. He slowed his breathing, his footsteps becoming silent as he approached. He checked the door; it was unlocked.
His heart began to thump a steady, heavy rhythm against his ribs. He drew the small, concealable runic pistol he had recently acquired and slowly pushed the door open. Inside, he heard the gentle sound of water being poured into a cup. Then, footsteps, coming from the small kitchen nook, getting closer and closer.
Erwin flattened himself against the wall beside the doorway, his weapon held at the ready, poised to ambush whoever had broken into his room. The footsteps grew louder, and a figure emerged from the kitchen.
It was Sebas, smiling serenely and holding a tray with a steaming teapot and a single cup.
Erwin let out a long, slow breath, the tension draining out of him in a rush. He lowered his weapon. "Oh, god," he sighed, his voice filled with relief. "It's you. Can you please tell me in the Animus Hub next time you decide to come here?"
Sebas's smile didn't waver. "My apologies, Young Master Erwin," he said calmly. "I did not think you would be home by now."
Erwin holstered his pistol and took off his long coat, tossing it wearily onto a nearby couch. Sebas placed the tray on a small table. "Please, drink this," he said. "It will help you relax." As Erwin sat down, Sebas walked over to the discarded coat, picked it up, and began to fold it neatly.
Erwin took a sip of the fragrant herbal tea. It was calming. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment, "about the... Animus break... earlier."
"Animus break?" Sebas asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Is that what you are calling it?"
Erwin chuckled, a rare, tired sound. "Can't let Soma be the only one who comes up with these names," he said. "So, why are you here, Sebas? Is something wrong?"
"Young Master Soma made too much of this evening's Pho," Sebas explained, his face a perfect mask of innocence. "He said he was going to throw it away, but then he remembered that you were likely still poor from taking on such measly cases, so he insisted I bring this to you." He produced a large, insulated container.
Erwin chuckled again, a genuine warmth in the sound this time. "Did he now?"
Sebas leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell Young Master Soma I told you this... but he made it for you freshly. This wasn't even on today's menu at the café."
A real, tired smile touched Erwin's lips. He opened the container, the rich, comforting aroma of the Pho filling the small room. He began to eat. While he ate, Sebas moved silently around the room, collecting the scattered case notes and scattered pages, organizing them into a neat pile on the desk. For a brief moment, in the quiet of the small, lamp-lit room, there was a chance to breathe.
With the Pho eaten and the tea finished, Erwin finally let himself relax, sinking deep into the worn cushions of the couch. He let out a long, weary exhale. "You can thank Soma for me when you get back to the café tomorrow," he said to Sebas, his eyes closed.
Just then, the front door of the boarding house room opened. In walked Soma, followed by Zero in his veiled hat.
"You can thank him now," Zero said, closing the door behind them.
Erwin's eyes snapped open. "Why are you two here?"
"Soma said the insulated container needed to be picked up immediately," Zero explained, a hint of amusement in his voice. "He was convinced you wouldn't wash it."
"Hey! I clean, alright," Erwin retorted, sitting up.
"As if," Soma scoffed, looking around the now-spotless room. "I bet this place is only neat because Sebas just cleaned it up for you."
The familiar bickering filled the small room, a comfortable, chaotic noise that slowly eased the tension from Erwin's shoulders. They laughed, their shared company a balm after the long, dark night.
Then, the laughter subsided. Soma, his usual boisterous energy replaced by a gentle concern, looked at Erwin. "How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.
Erwin's defensive walls went up instantly. "What? What are you talking about? I'm fine."
"It's alright, Young Master," Sebas said, his voice calm and steady. "You can talk to us. After all, we are all you."
Erwin froze. The words seemed to bypass all of his defenses. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and looked down, holding his own hands in a tight grip. He began to talk, his voice low and strained.
"I... I panicked," he admitted, the confession barely a whisper. "When I found them… those kids… they were tied up, lifeless, as if they weren't even human anymore." His hands clenched into each other, his knuckles white. "I continuously prayed," he continued, a tremor in his voice. "For the first time in my goddamn life, I genuinely prayed. As I ran while holding Elisa, I begged whatever god was listening not to let her go."
"It's not your fault, Erwin," Zero said calmly.
But Erwin didn't seem to hear him, his mind trapped in the horror of the memory—the weak, rattling breath of the child, the suffocating smell of the basement, the cold touch of the trapdoor, the sight of the bodies. His voice became frantic. "B-but if I had gotten there sooner! If I had just seen the pattern an hour earlier, maybe the others could've still been alive!"
Zero moved to his side, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing, forcing Erwin to look up at him. "Hey. You know your work only operates with facts. So stick to the facts."
Erwin blinked, the word "facts" cutting through the haze of his panic.
Zero's voice was steady and unshaken. "The fact is that you were days ahead of the Watchers in this case. The fact is that because of you, Elisa is still alive."
Erwin gritted his teeth. "But the others—"
"The fact is that you can't change the past," Zero cut him off, his voice firm but not unkind. "But you can make damn sure the bastard who did this won't get away with it."
Soma stepped forward, his expression serious. "You're not a god, Erwin. You're a detective. A damn good one. But you're not omniscient."
Then Sebas spoke, his voice calm and wise, the final, crucial piece of support. "Guilt is a heavy burden, Young Master. But the children who lost their lives do not need your guilt. They need your justice."
Erwin closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath, trying to push through the crushing weight on his chest. He was silent for a long moment. "You're right," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He exhaled deeply, wiping his face with his sleeve. When he looked up again, the panic and guilt were gone, replaced by a familiar, cold steel. "I'm going to catch this bastard."
A smirk spread across Zero's face, and he slapped Erwin on the back. "That's what I like to hear."
Sebas nodded approvingly. "And I shall assist in any way I can."
Erwin rolled his shoulders, feeling a little lighter than before.
Soma grinned. "Now, go get some sleep. By morning, you'll have a good, hot breakfast delivered to this janky office of yours."
Erwin huffed a small, tired laugh. "Thanks."
The four of them exchanged a glance, a silent, unbreakable bond passing between them.
Zero just smirked. "What are brothers for?"
**A/N**
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**A/N**