Lontart, a dark street.
Two sneaky-looking little guys were carrying something heavy, hurrying along, when suddenly several figures burst out from around the corner. Each grabbed one arm and slammed them to the ground.
Clang! The heavy object hit the pavement with a sharp metallic ring.
"The black-skinned dogs from Grannin Street!" one of the little guys blurted out in alarm and anger.
Crack! A hard slap landed on his face. A man in a crisp black uniform stepped out of the shadows, crouching down in front of him. "Please address us as 'Officer.'"
Since the headquarters of the Holm Kingdom Police Department was located on Grannin Street in the Administrative District, gang members, petty criminals, and some citizens had taken to using "Grannin Street" as a colloquial term for the police.
The slap brought the little guy to his senses. Trembling, he said, "Yes, Officer."
Word had it that the black-skinned dogs from Grannin Street carried a unique apprentice-level alchemical device. When it hit you, it was like an electric shock, causing prolonged full-body paralysis and pain — a fate worse than death. So when facing these black-skinned dogs, you absolutely never tried to play tough.
"You've been caught red-handed stealing manhole covers, with irrefutable evidence. You'll be sent to the Municipal Court for trial. Hmm — 'endangering public safety by dangerous means.' If all goes well, you'll spend the rest of your lives quite happily in the mines. Of course, if you'd rather become some mage's test subjects, you might be able to return to Lontart after a year or so." The senior detective patted the little thief's cheek.
The little thief was stunned. "E-endangering public safety by dangerous means… Officer, what kind of crime is that? We… we were just stealing manhole covers to sell!"
That long string of words sounded terrifying — obviously a serious offense.
"Hey, I've told you idiots before — you need to listen to the 'Voice of Holm Kingdom' and other radio stations, and keep up with the latest laws and regulations. 'Endangering public safety by dangerous means' was added to the Kingdom's Legal Code last month. The specifics are — in this day and age, thieves who don't listen to the radio are going to be left behind!" The senior detective straightened up.
This was a charge that Natasha had specifically proposed during the Noble Assembly's discussions on the Aircraft Management Regulations and Road Safety Laws, to prevent anyone from deliberately using aircraft disasters or car accidents as a means of committing murder.
"We… we were just stealing manhole covers…" The two little thieves looked like they were about to cry. Spending the rest of their lives in the mines — what a terrifying prospect. As for reducing their sentence by becoming some mage's test subjects, they hadn't even considered it. That might be worse than death!
The senior detective snorted. "You stole the manhole covers, causing numerous citizens to fall in and suffer injuries. Is that not 'endangering public safety by dangerous means'? Go reflect on your actions in the mines!"
"No, Officer, please spare us! If we'd known about this crime, we never would have dared do something like this."
"Officer, I… I have important information!"
The two little thieves scrambled to speak first.
The senior detective nodded with satisfaction and instructed the surrounding officers: "Take them back and interrogate them thoroughly. Hand me the recorded statements first."
Watching the two little thieves being led away in tears, an officer beside him said obsequiously, "Boss, you're amazing. Just a few scares and you got important intel out of them."
"They've only got themselves to blame for not listening to the radio. Honestly, I really wanted to slap this charge on them — damn it, this morning they made me fall right in front of everyone!" the senior detective said angrily.
No wonder the boss was limping today — turns out he'd nearly fallen into a sewer…
The senior detective ordered the other officers: "Put the manhole cover back and find something to lock it down before it gets stolen again before dawn. Sigh, how did such a minor task end up being our job? We're severely understaffed! Are we supposed to follow up on other cases or not? There should be a dedicated department handling this kind of thing."
The remaining officers worked together to carry the manhole cover back into place. Then one of them had a sudden thought: "When we were chasing that thief earlier, could someone have fallen in?"
"How could that happen? It's the dead of night! And we were only away from here for a few minutes." The officer who had been sucking up to the senior detective said without a worry, then produced a specially prepared apprentice-level alchemical potion and poured it into the cracks around the manhole cover. This way, the cover would be sealed tight in tonight's cold and wouldn't loosen until it slowly dissolved during the day.
This was their temporary method for dealing with such incidents — a solution specially created by mages.
Once everything was done, the officers hurried off, eager to return to the warmth of Grannin Street.
Not long after, the manhole cover suddenly began making thumping, thumping, thumping sounds. But thanks to the specially made alchemical adhesive, the cover didn't budge.
In the dark sewers below, Nasdel felt hot blood surging to his head. What in the world was wrong with Lontart? Who digs a hole right in the middle of the street? His body, still not fully under his control, was drenched in blood from the fall!
Rage, frustration, and shock surged through him, making him want to transform into his werewolf form right then and there and send the manhole cover flying.
"Stay calm, stay calm. I can't expose my werewolf identity, or I won't be able to complete His Highness the Prince's mission." Nasdel repeated this to himself over and over.
Finally, he got his anger under control and took a deep, satisfied breath — only to nearly gag from the putrid stench.
"I am a calm and wise werewolf valued by His Highness the Prince. I absolutely cannot be like those other reckless fools!" he told himself again, then leaned on the werewolf's powerful regenerative abilities and staggered off in another direction through the sewers.
After walking for a while, another roar erupted from the sewers: "Bastards! This one's glued shut too!"
"Damn it, what are the people of Lontart thinking?!"
He walked a long, long way, and just when Nasdel was on the verge of losing control, the manhole cover above at last showed no signs of being sealed shut.