“Um,” Rogue said.
Her eyes on the other girl, Rico tilted her head.
“Is that so? I assumed Chief Velladonna had told him everything.”
The two girls seemed to know something he didn’t, and they reached an understanding.
“It seems there was a miscommunication,” Rico said, turning to face Rogue. “Detective Rogue, allow me to explain what the Sixth Precinct is. Investigations here are done with the help of witches—despite the gravity of their crimes. You will oversee the witches, ensuring they solve crimes falling under your jurisdiction.”
For a second, he forgot to breathe.
Solving crimes…with witches? That was insane.
Why would Velladonna not tell him something that vital—?
Rogue soon worked out why. They had an unsolved murder, and she had a boss breathing down her neck. The bureau was a meritocracy, and failure to deliver could end her career. In which case, she had to make full use of anyone up to the task. Especially if that was someone who refused to play her games.
If he hadn’t accepted the promotion, he would never have wound up there. He regretted his own ambition.
As the light faded from his eyes, Rico spoke again.
“I do hate to pile it on, but may I proceed?”
He made a face like he’d swallowed a bug, then nodded.
“……How much worse can it get?”
“We’ve received further orders from Chief Velladonna. I meant to relay these once the dust settled, but…”
“……Hit me.”
“‘Yoo-hoo, Rogue! How’s it been? This is your beloved Velladonna!’”
Rico’s voice had become syrupy and exaggerated.
“Wh-what are you…?”
“Chief Velladonna was very specific. I am to relay these orders while imitating her.”
“Uh-huh…fine, let’s go with that…”
Rico proceeded.
“‘You’re to wrangle these witches and take on the Lifetaker case. By the way—someone else was in charge of the Sixth Precinct, but he got on the witches’ bad side. We can’t exactly take them off the case, so I had to rack my little brain for a solution. Then I thought: Oh! Our ace in the hole, Rogue! He might manage to pull it off! So you’d better do just that, Rogue. If you can’t wrap this case up quick……………spend the rest of your life locked up in there, with witches making eyes at you. Oh! Time for a meeting! Buh-bye!’… That is all.”
Rico paused momentarily, then her tone returned to the formal one she’d used before.
“Detective Rogue, you are officially appointed chief of the Sixth Precinct.”
In his head, he was throwing every insult he could at Velladonna.
If she’d been there, he was pretty sure he could have punched her. This was just that unreasonable.
The white-clad girl smiled at him.
“Feeling better?”
“Oh yeah. Loads better,” he said, but his sarcasm didn’t rattle her grin.
“Another one of those,” muttered a witch somewhere up above. He felt like there was a hint of sympathy there. Perhaps he was not the first person sentenced to the Sixth Precinct like this. His gaze flicked around the room.
Picking up on that, the white-clad girl nodded.
“Well, most appointees were like you—unwilling. Though, you are the first to receive no prior briefing at all.”
“……” That only fanned the flames of his fury. “……You seem well-informed.”
“But of course. I’ve been the one on point lately.”
“On point?” he asked.
“Broadly speaking, your partner on the job. You’ve had those before, I’m sure. This precinct works on a volunteer basis, and at the moment, I’m the most inclined.”
With that, she rose from her chair. Her long hair fluttered behind her, and as that caught his eye, she put out her hand.
“We’ll be working together.”
“……Right.”
He took off his glove and shook her hand. She was so pale, it was hard to imagine she had blood in her veins, but her hand was surprisingly warm. A lower temperature than Rogue’s own, but still very much alive. Perhaps her claim of being “human” was not so far-fetched.
Rationally speaking, they’d never assign a witch here who couldn’t be controlled. He felt himself starting to relax a bit.
Then a witch from the crowd yelled, “When are you gonna kill him, Miseria?”
“Huh?” He yanked his hand away. Kill? “……What’s that mean?”
“I do beg your pardon. She just likes to scare people.”
“Baloney! You made the last guy kill himself!” the other witch yelled.
The white-clad girl smiled like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“Ha-ha, well, that was how things turned out. But it wasn’t like I wanted to kill him.”
“Liar!”
“For shame!”
“You’re so twisted!”
That prompted a chorus from the crowd and left Rogue feeling bamboozled. The last detective committed suicide? What could be bad enough to cause that?
He looked at Rico.
“No way, Rico. I can’t work with a murderer. Call the chief.”
“Don’t worry, Detective Rogue. They’re equipped with safety devices. Right there on her throat.”
He looked again. There was a black choker around the witch’s neck. Not just the white-clad girl’s, but around the neck of every witch in the room.
When his eyes were back on Rico, she said, “That’s their collar.”
“Collar?”
“It’s a type of manatech. If any of three conditions are met, they’ll instantly kill the wearer. First, a direct act of murder. Second, leaving the designated range—in this case, the empire’s territory. This applies if any part of them leaves that range. Finally—”
At that point, the white-clad girl took over.
“When mana over a specified threshold is detected. This leaves us only capable of generating a child’s level of mana.”
She followed that with a titter, but at what, Rogue wasn’t sure.
“Wait, but your hands are still free. You wouldn’t even have to use a spell,” Rogue pointed out.
Pens, knives, their own teeth—if their hands were free, there were any number of means at their disposal. Those collars didn’t look especially durable; a girl could easily rip them off.
“No, Detective,” Rico said, “These collars don’t come off. They will remain in place until the wearer’s death is detected. Until that time, nothing can break them—not even a magic sword.”
“A harsh truth,” the white-clad girl said, nodding.
“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Rogue said, glaring at her. “I just heard that you made the last guy kill himself.”
“Oh, I did.”
“Does that not count as murder? I mean, you aren’t dead.”
“Sometimes, a few errant words can push people to their deaths, Rogue. Who knows what might become a trigger?”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he growled.