Chapter 47: The Nonexistent Intruder
"Dark Feather Alliance..."
Reed sat alone in the cavern, repeating the name under his breath as if trying to weigh it on his tongue.
"What exactly are you?"
The chamber was dim, lit only by a few pale crystals set into the stone. Their weak glow spread over the scattered intelligence reports on the table before him. Beside them lay a separate file, a detailed analysis of the Obsidian Group's abnormal capital movements and personnel reshuffling over the past six months.
Reed's pale fingers tapped lightly against the rough tabletop.
Across from him, the intelligence courier stood with his head lowered, not daring to breathe too loudly.
"What did Lamia say, exactly?" Reed asked.
The man answered at once. "Only two words, sir. Phantom."
For a moment, Reed went still.
Then he rose so abruptly that the chair legs scraped across the stone.
"So that is it... so that is it."
His eyes sharpened, turning cold and bright in the gloom.
"It was never the General Administration. It was another pack of rats. Phantom was never working with the authorities. He was working with them."
He began retracing everything in his mind.
The official response to the Phantom incident had been swift, but strange. The investigation had focused heavily on the laboratory area. Tracking marks had been placed on the three cleanup operatives. Yet after that, there had been no thunderous purge, no citywide dragnet, no concentrated sweep against the School's remaining network.
At the time, the inconsistency had bothered him. Now it finally made sense.
No wonder the retreat had gone so smoothly.
No wonder the School had suffered no immediate retaliatory strike from the General Administration.
No wonder his own intelligence network had never picked up signs of a coming storm.
No wonder even after quietly reactivating some of their buried lines these past few days, there had still been no trace of Phantom anywhere.
Because Phantom had nothing to do with the General Administration at all.
Reed slowly sat back down, the shadows sliding over his shoulders like dark water.
This so called Dark Feather Alliance had used the School as bait.
They had stirred the waters just enough to draw official attention, then slipped their own agenda beneath the chaos. The General Administration had never regarded the School as an urgent priority. The pursuit had only become heated because someone else kept nudging it from the dark.
Perhaps even those tracking marks had been part of the same play.
A false trail, a staged panic, a cheap lure thrown into muddy water.
Reed clasped his fingers beneath his chin and let out a humorless laugh.
"So. You wanted to use us as cover."
His gaze dropped to the intelligence file before him.
"And now that your tail is showing, you want us to stay quiet while you go on with your little revolution."
His voice turned colder.
"Then do not blame me for skinning you alive."
...
Late that night, Lamia stood outside Hodell's room.
This time she did not bother with theatrical hesitation. She knocked once, pushed the door, and found it already ajar.
Her brows knit immediately.
The day before yesterday, he had still been running around Oluson like a lunatic. Today he was sleeping with the door half open?
She slipped inside and gently closed the door behind her.
Hodell was standing by the window.
He had his back to her, looking out at the night as if he had known she would come from the start.
"You were expecting me?" Lamia asked.
"Yes."
She took two steps closer. "Why?"
Hodell finally turned and leaned one shoulder against the windowsill.
"Because if they succeed, your organization loses too."
Lamia narrowed her eyes. "And how can you be so sure the organization would not simply cooperate with them?"
Hodell gave a quiet laugh.
"Because once they really take control, they will not tolerate any outside force capable of threatening them. Not your organization. Not anyone."
Lamia stared at him for a few seconds. Then she reached into her coat and took out a crystal shard as thin as a cicada wing.
She held it out.
"This is for you. Private property belonging to Wayne, one of the Committee members. According to our intelligence network, the energy fluctuation pattern in the underground structure is extremely strange. It is very similar to the component you brought back."
Hodell accepted the shard and sent source energy into it.
The next instant, a stream of information rushed into his mind. A three dimensional architectural map unfolded itself inside his perception. Level after level rotated into place until his attention locked onto one particular area.
An independent storage section on the western side of the third basement level.
At fixed intervals, a familiar fluctuation leaked out from there. Weak, but unmistakable.
That same strange signature.
Only one step left.
Only one clean piece of evidence away from the truth.
"What do you expect me to do with this?" he asked. "Apply for a search warrant? Wayne is a Committee member. The procedure itself would alert half the people involved, and without evidence fit to put on paper, the request would never pass."
"That," Lamia said, raising her chin slightly, "is your problem to solve, Ryan. Have you forgotten why you came to Oluson in the first place?"
Hodell's eyes flickered.
He had not forgotten.
If he cracked this case, a promotion would be inevitable.
Lamia paused with her hand on the doorknob.
Then, without turning back, she added, "Be careful. The Dark Feather Alliance is buried deeper than we thought. Even now, the organization has not fully mapped them out."
After that, she disappeared into the corridor shadows.
The door shut softly behind her.
Hodell rubbed the crystal shard between his fingers.
"One direct piece of evidence," he murmured. "That is all I need."
...
Under the night sky, Wayne Mansion crouched like a beast hidden in the dark.
From outside, it looked elegant and quiet.
From Hodell's perspective, it looked like a military fortress.
As he stood in the shadows beyond the perimeter, his energy vision unfolded over the entire structure. Dense streams of power ran beneath the walls like glowing blood vessels. Doors, windows, hallways, support columns, even the outer wall itself were threaded with layered detection and defensive arrays.
"Anyone who did not know better would think a war machine lived here," he muttered.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Which makes this much more interesting."
Source energy stirred.
[Phase Shuttle] activated.
The world dulled at once.
Sound receded. Color drained away. The entire mansion became a structure of layered gray, as if reality itself had been reduced to thickness, density, and resistance.
That familiar feeling returned.
The world was no longer made of solid objects, but of stacked films. Dense, cold, and sticky.
Hodell stepped forward and walked straight into a load bearing column near the estate wall.
He sank into it without a sound.
Concrete and steel pressed against him from all directions, yet the resistance was slippery rather than rigid. The sensation was profoundly unnatural, like forcing himself through congealed grease. But he was already adapting.
Inside the wall, he moved like a shadow passing through old stone.
Two guards soon entered his perception, patrolling the inner corridor. One of them wore a magic conductive detection device of the same model the General Administration used. A thin scanning beam swept the floor, the walls, the air ahead.
Neither man had the slightest idea that the intruder was moving beside them inside the structure itself, separated only by a layer of reinforced stone.
"It really works," Hodell thought.
Using Energy Simulation in tandem with his phase state, he carefully tuned his own fluctuations to the structure around him. As long as no one present had the absurd combination of perception advantages he did, then below C Class, no one here would see a thing.
He continued through the interior, pausing only when a series of high intensity energy currents blocked the route ahead. Bright white flows surged through the walls like trapped lightning.
He stopped at once.
Even in phase state, direct passage through such energy barriers was asking for trouble.
Fortunately, he did not need to force it.
His perception extended farther, mapping the pipes and conduits inside the walls. A moment later, he found what he wanted.
A narrow gap between multiple lines.
He rose inside the structure like a fish through deep water, slipped through the opening, and descended on the other side.
Below him lay the independent storage room.
He slowly lowered himself through the ceiling and looked down.
The room was brightly lit.
Wayne was inside.
The fat Committee member sat at his desk with a black notebook open in front of him, scribbling with frantic intensity. His face was ugly with anxiety.
"Damn it... damn it... why has Troy still not solved the rejection reaction..."
He cursed while seizing a red crystal from the desk and pressing it greedily against his skin.
Energy poured into him.
At once, a tiny crack along his cheek began to close.
Hodell watched silently from above.
That alone was already worth the trip.
He did not move.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
He remained hidden in the ceiling like a patient ghost.
At last, Wayne shut the notebook, placed both it and the crystal into the safe behind him, locked it, and left the room. A heavy stone door slammed shut behind him, followed by the glow of restriction runes.
Only then did Hodell descend.
He landed without a sound and stepped toward the safe.
It was made of a special alloy, thick enough to withstand a strike from a D Class powerhouse. Anchored to the floor. Immensely secure against ordinary theft.
Hodell placed a hand on it and activated [Phase Shuttle] again.
The sensation this time was worse.
Metal was colder than stone, denser, more viscous. He had to force his arm through the door layer by layer, enduring the nauseating friction until his fingers finally brushed something within.
The notebook.
The crystal.
He grabbed both.
Then pulled.
The two objects emerged with his arm, forcibly crossing the material boundary and leaving the safe itself seemingly untouched.
"As expected," he thought. "Clothing comes with me. Held objects come with me too."
He tucked the stolen items against his body, turned, and dissolved into the wall once more.
When he left, the safe remained in place.
Intact in appearance.
Completely empty.
...
Two hours later, a scream tore through Wayne Mansion.
Wayne collapsed to the floor in his night robe, face white as wax, cold sweat soaking his collar.
"Sir... it is gone... all of it is gone!"
He clutched the communicator with shaking hands.
"The safe is untouched! The door was never opened! But the medicine and the notebook... they just vanished!"
On the other end, Troy said nothing for five long seconds.
When he finally spoke, his voice was colder than broken glass.
"This is your idea of foolproof?"
Wayne nearly sobbed. "I do not know how! No one could have gotten in! It has to be some kind of ghost!"
"Shut up."
Troy's voice cracked like a whip.
"There are no ghosts. There are only people."
His tone sank into something murderous.
"To bypass physical defenses like that... this was no common thief."
Wayne swallowed hard. "Then who? Who could possibly do it?"
Troy's answer came almost immediately.
"Who has been the most active lately? Who has kept biting at us and refusing to let go?"
Wayne froze.
Then hatred rushed into his face.
"Ryan."
"Whether it is coincidence or whether another set of eyes is helping him no longer matters," Troy said. "Recovering the evidence comes first. If it cannot be recovered..." His voice flattened. "Then Wayne dies in the line of duty, and the blame is pushed elsewhere."
A pause.
Then, colder still.
"Let Arthur handle it. He has been wanting revenge anyway. Give him the opportunity."
...
Morning came under a pale, hard sky.
Knocking sounded at Hodell's door.
Not polite knocking.
Fast. Hard. Impatient.
He had already hidden the notebook and crystal on his person before going near the entrance. By the time he opened the door, his expression was calm.
Arthur stood outside in a neat uniform, with four grim executors behind him.
"Specialist Ryan," Arthur said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Up early."
"Is something the matter?"
"Only a small one."
Without waiting for permission, Arthur walked straight past him into the room. His boots struck the floor with harsh little taps.
"I came to see a colleague," he said. "And incidentally to tell you some unfortunate news. Committee Member Wayne's home was burglarized last night. Certain things were taken."
He turned, eyes fixed on Hodell.
"Would you happen to know anything about that?"
"I was in my room last night."
"I know." Arthur nodded slowly. "With your strength, it would indeed be impossible for you to personally pull off something like this."
He let the insult hang there deliberately.
"Still, Ryan, there are many ways to arrange theft without doing it yourself."
Hodell's face did not change.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Arthur's smile widened.
"Whether it does or does not is not for you to decide."
He stepped closer, reached into his coat, and pulled out a stamped document. Then he slapped it flat against Hodell's chest.
The crimson seal looked like an accusing eye.
"Read it carefully," Arthur said softly. "Special Grade Isolation Investigation Order. Issued directly by the Committee."
His voice lowered further.
"You are suspected of severe mental contamination and collusion with hostile foreign forces. From this moment onward, all your operational authority is revoked."
Hodell glanced at the document, then back at Arthur.
"You seem in quite a hurry. Could it be that you failed to catch the real thief and now need a scapegoat?"
Arthur's eyes darkened.
"No, Ryan. I am here to teach you a lesson about rules."
He adjusted his tie with irritating care.
"You enjoy playing investigator, do you not? You enjoy prying into matters far above your level. Your mistake was simple. You offended people you should never have touched."
"I have already arranged a room for you in Internal Affairs. This time, no one will protect you. No tricks. No interruptions."
Then he lifted a hand.
"Take him."
The four executors moved at once.
Cold magic sealing cuffs snapped around Hodell's wrists.
He did not resist.
He allowed them to turn him and march him toward the door.
Arthur watched with growing satisfaction, like a man already hearing screams that had not yet begun.
As Hodell passed him, he turned his head slightly and looked at Arthur one last time.
There was no fear in his eyes.
Only a trace of pity.
Arthur's brows knit at once.
That look irritated him more than any threat could have.
"Still pretending," he said through clenched teeth. "You will not keep that posture for long."
Hodell said nothing.
He simply let them take him away.
.....
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