"You have quite the sad history, Mr. Anderson," Peru remarked softly.
"That's a blunt way to put it," Narvel replied, his face betraying little to no reaction.
"My apologies. It's just… your presence is rather intimidating. Tell me, how did it feel, growing up?"
"Up until what point?"
"When you became an orphan."
"I suppose… the same as every other orphan."
Peru shook her head. "No. I meant, how did losing your parents shape you? Do you think it drove you toward this path?"
Narvel leaned back, considering. "That's a difficult question to answer, Miss Peru. My parents were gone by the time I was nine. Not long after, I woke up with Savant Syndrome. Even with my mind's heightened functions, it's almost impossible to know if I'd be a different person had they lived."
He paused before adding, "But as for whether their deaths pushed me here… probably. Both my parents were Federation agents. Even my older brothers and sister worked for the Federation in one way or another. It's a family thing. If they'd survived, I would have still chosen this path."
"So it wasn't Slayman's origins driving you? Don't you want to catch your parents' killer?" Peru asked.
Narvel lifted an eyebrow. "Who says Slayman is my parents' killer?"
"The report names him a major suspect."
"That's their prerogative, an inconclusive one at that. It wouldn't be illegal even if I wanted to chase whoever did it."
"From a legal view, yes. After all, it is the job you're pursuing. But pursuing a case you're emotionally tied to can make you blind to the truth. It makes you a danger to yourself and to the public."
"I didn't realize you practiced law, Miss Peru."
She smiled. "I don't. But I know the law."
"Then you should understand Savant Syndrome—what it does to a person. You know what it is, yes?
Peru blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You haven't accounted for how my emotions work. Don't analyze me like someone ordinary." He said it flatly.
Peru's smile tightened. "If you think I missed that, why point it out now?"
"Because your report will affect my postings. They'll read your notes and make decisions while considering them. I won't let a misread file derail my goals."
"You're aware that I'm also an Egomaniac?"
Narvel nodded once.
"And you're not afraid?"
"If I considered you a threat, you would already be dead."
Peru laughed, a short incredulous sound. "Arrogant," She mentioned in between her laughter. "Have you even battled Egomaniacs before?"
"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't."
Forcing herself to stop laughing, Peru closed her notepad and set it on the side table, her fingers drummed on the table lightly. "Don't test me." Her smile snapped into a glare. "If I choose to, I can turn you into a slave."
"You've already failed," Narvel said, his words cut into her beating fingers.
Peru's hand went to her temple as if she had been struck. "What—?"
"It would take more than that to plant a mental cue in the mind of a person like me." He stood. "Apart from the mental abilities you've shown, your body is just as frail as any other human… as I said, if I deemed you a threat, you'd already be lifeless."
He moved toward the door, "Good day, Miss Peru."
The recording paused there.
…
Armand held his tongue.
"The boy's mind is unusually strong," the superior said. "Egomaniacs with mental gifts can't sway his mind easily. Some think it's tied to his condition. And he doesn't share the usual instinctive fear of your kind. If anything, he treats you like targets to eliminate if he deems it necessary."
Armand slid the file back across the desk. "That makes him dangerous, sir. He could be a threat to himself and to society."
The superior shook his head. "No. His mind is stable. And he's the best graduate from the normal division. Even if we wanted to argue he's a risk, the Governor wouldn't allow it. Backing a high-achieving 'normal' makes for good politics. Helps him look tough on you freaks, no offence."
"None taken, sir."
"Good, then it's settled." He slid the file back to Armand's front. "Then, he will be joining your team."
Armand ignored the file. "You still haven't told me the division we're under, sir."
Cough, cough. The man loosened his tie and slowly turned his chair around, leaving Armand to stare at the back of his chair.
"Sir?"
"They voted to form a special unit for your team… under the Bounty Department."
"What!?" Armand shot up from his seat. "Sir, I'm a veteran detective, how the hell do they want me to function in that department filled with bloodthirsty hounds, that madhouse!?"
"Detectives have great uses in the Bounty Department. With your skills, you'll be their top officer in no time."
"Are they doing this to push me away from Slayman's case? Fine, I'll drop it."
"No, no, that's not going to work this time. You've already been transferred."
"Sir!"
His superior officer ignored him.
"Officer Windwell!" Armand called out, forcing his superior officer to turn his chair back around.
"Oh, so we're calling names now?"
"What's going to happen to the other cases I've been working on?"
"They've already been reassigned to other detectives."
"But they don't know these cases like I do," Armand argued.
"That's why they have your contact. To call and ask you questions. Be their consultant and make sure to teach them well."
"Sir!"
"Detective, "Windwell's voice hardened. "I've done my best here. Stop being emotional and look at it differently."
"Uncle!" Armand snapped.
"Armand! Dammit! Clear your head and think!" Windwell slammed a hand on the desk. "Clear your head and think." He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. "As a licensed bounty officer, you'll have the authority to pursue wanted criminals. You can still hunt Slayman—but off the record. No paperwork, no reports. Just don't get caught up in your emotions and mess it up. He's wanted alive."
Listening to Windwell's words, Armand forced himself to calm down.
"Besides," Windwell added. "Your team's first assignment is protective duty."
"What?" Armand frowned. Protective duty? That was absurd. Bounty hunters were the last people anyone should assign to guard duty. They were better known for breaking things than keeping them intact.
"Haven't you been watching the news recently?" Windwell, using his remote, put the news on.
The hologram on his desk shifted to a broadcast, displaying two women and a man in formal suits and seated around a circular news desk.
"I have to say, Amy, it's been centuries since Earth has produced anything of this magnitude," The man said, voice smooth and practiced. "According to reports, dignitaries from across multiple galaxies are already en route. They'll arrive within the week."
"A historic moment indeed, Baxter. Some are already calling it the most important planetary convention in two, perhaps three centuries. Inspiring, yes, but frightening. Many believe that on that day, Earth will face its highest security risk in history. Tess, your thoughts?"
Tess leaned forward and folded her hands. "Their fears aren't misplaced. For generations now, other worlds have looked down on Earth, dismissing it as weak and irrelevant—forgetting that all their ancestors once came from here. Events like this invite both pride and danger."
"Mmm," Baxter and Amy hummed in agreement.
"And because Earth is looked down upon by these other worlds' denizens, there's every chance they'll ignore our laws if it means they can get their hands on our technological breakthroughs." Tess finished.
"I'll have to disagree on that with you, Tess." Baxter countered smoothly. "Yes they look down on us, however, they all fear the Federation. Earth isn't just another world, it's the Federation's birthplace. They wouldn't dare risk crossing that line."
At the same time, Windwell cut the feed with a flick of his remote, clearly unwilling to hear another round of pundit squabbling.
"You want us on protective duty that day? Who are we protecting?" Armand asked as his brows began knitting. He assumed that they'd be tasked with guarding some of the dignitaries that would be attending.
Windwell rubbed his temples, muttering. "Sometimes I wonder how you ever became a detective."
"Sir?" Armand took slight offense to that.
"A lot of criminals will be visiting Earth a few days before the convention. The high-profile ones and the small-time criminals. Most of them have bounties on them. Protective duty is just going to your team's secondary mission. The primary mission will be to kill those who are wanted dead. However, it has to be within a certain radius. You guys still have to remain on protective duty."
Armand finally understood what Windwell was getting at.
"Why though? They're just newbies."
"It's exactly because they're newbies that we're putting your team on this. We've delayed inputting their records on the system to avoid those peeping toms from suspecting their presence in the convention. In a way, your team is going to be one of our hidden trump cards."
"But they're newbies."
"Bloodthirsty ones… just set up a meeting with them. Introduce yourselves. Try and figure out how you'll operate together. If you wish you remain in the Police Force, you have to endure this for a while. At least until you've gathered enough merits again."