TN: And we're back! sorry for the week long hiatus, it was not intentional since I had to get my right leg in a cast after tripping 3 floors down a stairwell (like an idiot ://) and be unable to use my PC setup upstairs BUT I should be OK now.
Anyways, Thanks for Arcanic Madness, WeissAkumu and WolfWTF for becoming as Supporters!,
===BREAK===
The Lehman Brothers Hotel had wisely agreed to assist with the Public Security's request for cooperation. Naturally, the high-end, well-serviced hotel also sent its own security personnel to follow along, preventing any unnecessary conflict.
In the elevator, the security staff kept their distance from Ignis and his group, standing on the other side. This was expected, considering that neither Ignis nor Nekomata wore uniforms. Especially Ignis—the sheer size of him suggested he was not someone to be trusted at a glance.
"Oh? The hotel is actually verifying my credentials? How interesting," Qingyi's sudden remark made the security personnel break out in a sweat immediately.
"But it doesn't matter. Ask whatever you want. We are here on official business, not troublemakers," she added.
The Criminal Investigation Special Response Team Automaton, looked up at Ignis, signaling for him not to make a scene. After all, the only official credentials matched Qingyi. Their team's involvement was mainly to repay the Salamander for previous aid, and many procedures could not withstand close scrutiny by higher authorities.
Ignis understood the hint perfectly. He continued to remind himself not to act recklessly.
As for Nekomata, she had been observing the hotel's interior passages since entering. If necessary, she would pull Ignis and escape, avoiding being devoured by an enraged the Salamander.
The elevator soon reached the 37th floor. Ignis stepped into the hallway, attempting to suppress the storm of anger inside him while mentally preparing how to speak with Emile's father, Fritz Volt.
He knew this man was fully aware of his child's whereabouts, but extracting useful information would not be easy.
Even without seeing his face clearly, Ignis remembered those hands that had let a fake Public Security officer in. Under Qingyi and Zhu Yuan's witness, those same hands had shoved his own son to the ground and repeatedly kicked him.
Completely indifferent to his son's pleas and to bystanders.
Nekomata noticed the giant's expression darken and grew anxious. She tugged on the Salamander's pants. Ignis turned and met her worried gaze.
"I'll stay calm." The giant extended his hand and gently ruffled her hair.
The hotel staff swiped their access cards to unlock the door. The electronic lock's click immediately drew attention from inside.
"Damn it, who the hell is this? I didn't order any service!"
Fritz Volt, wearing the hotel's robe loosely draped over most of his chest and stomach, held a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his left hand. His face was flushed from drinking. His bleary eyes took a moment to focus, and then he froze in fear.
"Good day, Mr. Fritz Volt." Qingyi approached and showed her credentials. "Urban Order Department, Public Security Janus Branch, Criminal Investigation Special Response Team member, Officer Qingyi. We need to ask you about a kidnapping case."
"I don't know!" He almost immediately snapped, reaching to push Qingyi away, but his hand froze mid-motion.
Ignis brushed aside the hotel security and entered. His massive frame nearly touched the ceiling, his broad shoulders completely blocking the foyer.
"Thank you for your cooperation. The following inquiry involves case-related matters; please step aside," Qingyi said, ignoring the drunken man as she moved inside. "Nekomiya Mana, Assistant Peacekeeper, close the door."
The Thiren hurriedly shut the door.
"What do you want?" Fritz's hand trembled as the door closed. His wife, pale and startled, stepped out at the sound. Seeing the enormous figure blocking the entrance, she froze to the floor in fear.
"Helping Public Security is a citizen's duty," Qingyi said without lifting her gaze. "We received a report of a kidnapping. As witnesses, you are required to cooperate."
The word 'kidnapping' made Fritz's pupils contract sharply, his mind sobering from the alcohol.
"I don't know! I know nothing!" He raised a hand to block Qingyi.
The small officer smiled. "I haven't even asked yet. Seems like you do know something."
She reached for the baton at her waist, pressing the button. Electrical arcs hissed along both ends.
"Cooperating is a citizen's obligation." Qingyi ignored him and moved toward his wife. "Martha Volt, shall I help you up?"
Though trembling, she accepted the offered hand, leaving Ignis and Fritz to confront each other at the foyer.
"Don't worry, my body cam has been recording all along."
Nekomata whispered softly, pointing to the spherical surveillance camera in the corner. Public Security always records during operations, even Qingyi. These recordings ensure every action taken is legal and can document witnesses' statements.
Under this watch, Ignis could not act recklessly. Fritz was no longer scared—if the giant dared touch him, he could report him and make him pay.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
Facing the drunkard's feigned aggression, Ignis found it amusing. If he wished, he could crack open Fritz's skull and interrogate his neurons directly.
But he had promised Nicole and Qingyi to avoid unnecessary trouble. His morals restrained him from terrifying violence.
"Where is Emile? Don't say you don't know."
Ignis' voice suppressed his anger, keeping his tone controlled and not terrifying.
"Haha!" Fritz suddenly laughed bitterly. He tossed the bottle to the floor, then moved to the living room. He grabbed a bottle of mead from the shelf, opened it, and sat half-reclined on the sofa. Ignis watched him tilt his head back, drain a large gulp, spit to the floor, and take a few steps to stand in front of him.
"Answer me!"
"You know?" Fritz' eyes no longer carried the fog of alcohol, but the thrill of perceived victory. "So even you come asking for help? I thought someone like you never needed anyone!"
"Where is my son? That's my business, none of yours…" He took another swig, choking, spilling alcohol and saliva over his chest.
"If not for you, my son would still be obedient, not constantly defying me!" Fritz became agitated, eyes bloodshot.
"He doesn't need to waste time on that damn art! All those painters starve while alive! Only when dead does their work gain value! My son should be studying for entrance exams, becoming an outstanding engineer, lawyer, or doctor! Not wasting time with a brush!"
"This is all your fault! You ruined everything!"
The man's hair stood on end in rage.
"He used to obey me! Whatever I said, he would do! Go to school! Go to work! Do the damn hard labor! Whenever I spoke, he complied!"
"My only joy after a hard day is a drink! And he dared take my bottle! Never before, until you appeared! You've ruined him! Give me back my obedient son!"
"And you? What have you done besides drink and hit people? Your son just wants to paint!"
"Do you know how much his mother and I sacrificed for his education? Starving ourselves, working ourselves to the bone, bribing teachers, hoping he becomes a decent, respectable person—not a painter hauling buckets of pigment!"
He collapsed onto the sofa, drinking again, coughing violently, but still glaring at Ignis with feral intensity.
Nekomata covered her ears; the man's voice was deafening. She saw Ignis' fists bulge with veins, knuckles cracking.
"Do you think he's failing? Your son Emile Volt is an exceptional creator. His work is loved by many and earns him money."
"More than you could earn in decades," Ignis stated calmly. "Oh, and you were arrested for domestic violence and lost your job. So, your wife and son have been providing for the household."
"You!" Fritz glared, trying to argue, but the Salamander's words were undeniable. His dominance instantly shrank.
"Frustrating, isn't it? The formerly commanding head of the household has no income, no leverage. You try to dominate your son with physical power, but the money you spend is earned by him." Ignis' gaze swept the room, landing on the smartphone on the table. "The latest model, not cheap."
"Also, the hotel bills, vacation expenses, and luxury clothing."
"All money your son earned through the very art you despise."
"I don't know the specifics, but a conflict surely erupted. You were defeated in every way. Physically, socially—you couldn't control him, so you tried a petty scheme to punish him. Right?"
"You don't understand!" The drunk stood in fury. "He's my son! He belongs to me! I'm God! He listens to me!"
Fritz' chest heaved violently; his shouting nearly made Ignis laugh.
"He's my son! He must obey me! Money? Doesn't matter to him! I'm the head of the family! I decide how it's spent!"
"A little kid with all this money, learning from some painter? Nonsense!"
"He should follow the path I chose. Everything else is garbage!"
He grew increasingly enraged, smashing the bottle to the floor. The carpet saved the bottle from shattering.
Ignis only found it amusing. Powerless, short-sighted, and obstinate, Fritz misjudged his son's bright future as a descent into ruin.
the Salamander cared little for the man now; he only wanted Emile's location. The boy's safety was paramount.
"You're a foolish bastard." Ignis sneered, jabbing his finger at Fritz's chest. "You have three seconds to tell me who your son was given to, or…"
"You'll what? I'm not afraid of you!" Fritz tried to appear menacing, but his legs shook.
"Three." Ignis' voice was cold, like Arctic wind, the fury of a battle-hardened warrior, the eruption of a volcano.
Fritz wavered, but his title as "head of the household" still propped him up. Bloodshot eyes met Ignis'. All his courage in life poured into this meaningless struggle.
"Enough!" the Salamander's first roar. He grabbed Fritz by the neck, lifting him off the floor.
"Speak by three, or I'll twist your head off!"
The roar shocked the drunk fully sober. His bravado vanished. He struggled in vain; his strength was no match.
"Two!"
The Salamander's fury flared completely, rationality yielding. His face twisted in rage, hands crushing, Fritz's neck creaked. The man's red face struggled weaker with each second.
"Enough." Qingyi rushed out, her telescopic baton crackling as she struck toward the Salamander.
The taser wasn't enough to harm Ignis' enhanced body, but it brought him back from the brink of recklessness.
He dropped the nearly unconscious Fritz onto the sofa. Qingyi confirmed he was still alive.
"Nearly a disaster." Qingyi shook her head. "New intel: Zhu Yuan discovered who purchased the batch of Public Security uniforms. I'll handle this couple from here."
"Ignis?" Nekomata adjusted her frizzed hair from the earlier shock, watching him.
"Mm, got it." His gaze remained on the drunk, fierce and untamed.
Nekomata had only seen this look when he faced enemies.
Even if Emile was rescued, Fritz's outcome would likely be grim.
Ignis exhaled and turned to leave, planning to contact Zhu Yuan afterward. Passing the bedroom door, he saw Martha Volt's shocked face.
"Ma'am, Emile truly is a remarkable artist." He kept his voice calm. "His earnings are not charity. If possible, please continue supporting his work."
The woman, unable to fully understand her son's talent, nodded at the Salamander's words.
"If you know anything, tell this officer. We mean no harm, only concern for Emile's safety."
As he left, Ignis delivered this final remark.
===BREAK===
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