Liang Yue: I read an article about the conflicts between Ms. Qí Xīng and the other two producers of the C07 series.
Liang Yue: Before, I thought it was only rumors. But now, thinking over what she said, what if it's true?
Liang Yue: What am I saying? It's ridiculous.
Poitier: Then stop pouting over it, princess. We've got work to do.
Liang Yue: Urgh!
The hallway of the Laplace Rehabilitation Center Cooperative Hospital is bustling with people. Lost in thought, Liáng is jolted back to reality by a firm clap on the back.
Poitier: You wanna bet on how many people in L.A. have similar arcane skills? Come on. It's a total coincidence.
Poitier: You don't really think they're the same person, do you? That'd be nuts!
Poitier: I mean it's the Detective C07 we're talking about. Sure, she's been retired from acting for a while, but she's like super famous.
Poitier: If she was gonna go all kooky and start taking out crooks like she was the real C07, why wait all this time? It's been years since her last movie, and we're only just dealing with this Nightpiercer guy now.
Poitier: Besides, it's not like it's a crazy, unusual type of arcane skill. Who knows? Maybe this Nightpiercer guy is a fan of Detective C07's films too? Can't rule out anything yet.
Poitier: Hey, you okay in there? Did I knock the wind out of you?
Liang Yue: cough It's okay. I'm fine.
Liáng shakes her head.
Poitier, still bewildered and perhaps feeling a little guilty, insists that she didn't mean to hit her so hard. Not that it matters. At least the sudden smack did the trick in pulling Liáng out of her spiraling thoughts.
Neither the test results nor the suspect's family has arrived yet. Liáng makes her way to the vending machine at the far end of the hallway with the coins Poitier dropped in her hand as a half-hearted apology and buys herself an orange juice.
But that absurd thought, that ridiculous guess from earlier, still refuses to leave her mind.
Liang Yue: Forget it. Just like you said, it doesn't make any sense.
All attempts to push the thought from her mind are failing. That is, until a frantic voice cuts through the air.
Doctor: But you're injured, ma'am. You can't just leave.
???: I'm totally fine. It's just a tiny smidge of damage. I can fix it myself.
Doctor: You call a broken arm a smidge? You need to let us treat it immediately.
Liang Yue: What's going on here?
The doctor recognizes her uniform immediately.
Doctor: Are you a vigil? Could you help me stop this girl? She's trying to leave with a broken arm.
Doctor: She was in an accident. But since she's woken up, she's refused to let us examine anything.
Doctor: She might not be our normal kind of patient, but we're doctors. We can't let someone leave when they need immediate medical attention.
???: A vigil?
???: I-I-I-I-I-I'm in a hurry now. I'm gonna miss my bus.
Beneath the girl's clothing, the exposed skin has a cold, metallic sheen. That must be what the doctor meant by "not our normal kind of patient."
Liáng notices the emblem on her chest, marking her as an employee of the St. Pavlov Foundation. How odd that she'd have such a panicked reaction at the sight of a vigil.
Liang Yue: There'll be another bus, but you only have one body. You should listen to the doctor, sit down, and wait, until you're cleared to leave.
Liang Yue: Please show us your ID so that the doctor can give you treatment.
For a few stiff seconds, the girl's mechanical head freezes in place. Then, in a movement almost too fast to follow, it snaps up.
???: Look. A hamster riding a stethoscope.
Liang Yue: A hamster what?
The bizarreness of these words leaves Liáng no choice but to glance in the pointed direction, only to confirm, of course, that there is no hamster nor stethoscope in sight.
???: Now!
Liang Yue: Hey, wait!
COMBAT
Liang Yue: Sorry, I'm after a—
The hospital's narrow hallways are hardly suitable for a chase, and Liáng quickly finds her path blocked by a supply cart. By the time she's made it past, the mechanical-headed girl has disappeared.
Her metal chameleon communication device, issued by the Division of Arcane Affairs, gives off its distinctive chime.
Poitier: Hey, rookie. Where did you go? Get back here. The medical report is ready, and Mr. Wong's family just arrived.
Liang Yue: I ... Understood. How's Mr. Wong doing?
There's a long pause on the other end of the line.
Poitier: It's not pretty.
Enraged Man: ...
Mr. Wong is lying unconscious on the hospital bed, looking haggard. His breathing is labored and raspy, like wind rattling through a hollowed-out log.
Woman: How ... What happened to him? He seems completely normal this morning.
Her legs go weak. Were it not for the man supporting her, she might have collapsed entirely.
???: Please relax, Ms. Wong. We have to wait and see what the doctor says.
Poitier: You again?
Poitier instantly recognizes him—one of the Division of Arcane Affairs's least welcome and regular visitors.
Poitier: Right, right. You're the local arcane private eye, aren't you, Zhōu? Are you commissioned by the victim?
Private Investigator: What?
The man's eyes widen in surprise before shooting Poitier a venomous glare.
Private Investigator: Ha. Unlike some tax leeches out there, I actually help people in need.
Private Investigator: And I don't charge a fee when it comes to my neighbors.
Poitier: Sorry.
He clearly has no interest in arguing at a time like this. He lets out a cold snort and turns to the doctor with a questioning look.
ER Doctor: Ms. Liáng has cleared the unknown arcane skill that was afflicting him. His physical condition is stable, but I fear there may be some long-term effects on his mind.
ER Doctor: He seems to be suffering from a severe thought and memory disorder. It would be best to keep him asleep.
Woman: Doctor, when will he wake up? Can I speak to him?
ER Doctor: For now, we suggest against it. It may cause him additional distress to see someone familiar to him. We fear there might be memory loss.
Woman: What? How?
Woman: What should I do now? With his mother gone, I can't take any more of this.
Liang Yue: Madam ...
The woman looks as though all the strength has been drained from her body as she slumps into a nearby chair. Liáng opens her mouth to offer comfort but can't seem to find the right words.
Zhōu's gaze sweeps past Poitier before settling on Liáng.
Private Investigator: So, who's the little Chinese kid? Did the DAA give you a sidekick to do your job for you?
Private Investigator: Forget it lah. Listen, if you're not going to do your best to help these people, then it's better you just stay out of my way.
Liang Yue: ...
Liáng looks to Poitier with a questioning gaze. Poitier shakes her head and sighs, gesturing for her to come closer before handing over the hospital's diagnosis.
Poitier: When they first brought him in, there were remnants of the arcanum riddled through his body. It might have gone a long way to proving he wasn't in control of himself.
Poitier: But I guess anything definitive has already faded away. The doctors couldn't isolate a cause.
Poitier: Worse-case scenario, they might not believe us and have this poor guy shoved off to the funny farm.
Liáng clenches her fists and looks toward the woman curled up in the hospital chair, quietly sobbing. She looks so small against the oversized seat.
Finally, Liáng steps forward and crouches beside the chair.
After a brief hesitation, she reaches out and places a hand over the woman's. Zhōu looks surprised.
Liang Yue: Madam, please, you need to stay strong for your husband.
Liang Yue: They've brought in some of the best doctors from the Laplace Rehab Center. If there is anyone that can help him, it'll be them.
In a way, it is a promise with no real guarantee—a statement that could almost be considered a lie. But even lies have value when a person needs to hear them.
The woman hastily wipes her tear-streaked face and lifts her head.
Woman: He said that he was going to buy produce from the wholesalers, but I couldn't reach him. And then, the police called.
Woman: My husband is a good man. Everyone knows that. He would never do something like this.
Woman: Please, Miss, you have to help us.
Liang Yue: ...!
The woman grasps Liáng's hand tightly in hers, her fingers trembling.
Her hands are gentle, yet rough, etched with years of hard work—the kind of hands earned through long days and nights of striving for a better life.
Liang Yue: I ...
In her palm, she can feel the woman's desperate, burning warmth. It is so hot. She feels it could scorch her.
Liáng takes a deep breath.
Liang Yue: You can rely on us, ma'am.
Liang Yue: We'll find out the truth behind this. I promise you.
She gives the woman's hand a firm, reassuring squeeze.
Woman: Thank you. Thank you so much!
Woman: You are our only hope, please!
Sometimes, a lie can become the truth. All it takes is someone willing to make it so.
Private Investigator: ...
The door to the ward is shut behind them. After a moment of silence, Poitier tilts her head.
Poitier: Rookie mistake, princess. Never make a promise about something you don't get to decide on.
Liang Yue: I'm sorry, Ms. Poitier. But I only meant—
Poitier: Hold it.
Poitier: I didn't say we weren't gonna do our best.
Liang Yue: ...
The words she was about to say no longer serve any purpose. Instead, Liáng does something Poitier has never seen her do before. She smiles.
Liang Yue: Thank you, ma'am.
Poitier: Not so fast. We still need some solid evidence if we're gonna crack this case.
Liang Yue: But where to begin? It seems like there are no obvious clues beyond what we've seen. Mr. Wong had no enemies and was well-loved in his community.
Liang Yue: If that's the case, then it can't be a simple motivation. Still, something sticks out to me. When I asked about any recent events or happenings, it wasn't Mrs. Wong that answered. It was ...
Poitier already knows where this is going.
Poitier: Zhōu. Our private eye with a chip on his shoulder against the DAA.
Liang Yue: Yes. He mentioned that there have been strange things going on around L.A.'s Chinatown recently.
Liang Yue: According to my notes, he mentioned there were children that suddenly became distant and unresponsive, young men that began showing signs of memory loss, and an otherwise healthy elder that rapidly developed signs of dementia.
Liang Yue: Absent-mindedness, empty despondence towards family and friends, memory loss. It all sounds very familiar to Mr. Wong's condition. But no one thought to bring the matter to the police.
Liang Yue: I also spoke with the nurses here. They said they've also noticed an increase in patients from Chinatown, complaining of confusion and memory loss.
Liang Yue: I guess, once again, no one thought it was serious enough for our attention.
Poitier's expression darkens.
Poitier: Well, whatcha thinking, cadet? Are all these cases related?
Poitier: If it's as widespread as you're making it out to be, we might be in over our heads.
Liang Yue: Even so, I think we can't overlook it as a possibility.
Liang Yue: Arcane skills that directly affect the mind are rare, but they do exist. I've read of similar cases in the Vigiles Archive.
Liang Yue: One of them, as I recall, had very similar symptoms to what we're seeing here.
Liáng's brow furrows.
Liang Yue: However, if there were some criminal intention behind all of these symptoms, what could it be?
Liang Yue: Or could it be an accident? Maybe a child with a powerful arcane skill who can't control it? Or some unregulated and dangerous arcane objects?
Liang Yue: We can't draw any conclusions without more evidence.
The two officers look troubled. Then, as if something has clicked in her mind, Poitier's face lights up.
Poitier: Arcane objects ... Isn't there a department in the Foundation that stores and records dangerous arcane materials?
Liang Yue: Yes, at the headquarters of the Foundation. And its official name is ...
The Arcanum Containment Department.
Matilda: Ah. Voilà. I believe I am here.
Matilda: Hmm, it is much brighter and more spacious than I expected.