Chapter 120: Midnight Wings

Chapter 120: The Midnight Wings

Mo Fei opened the door and scratched his neck to sound more convincing.

The same man he had seen before was leaning against the doorframe, his arms wrapped around. He wore a smile that seemed almost arrogant and narcissistic. "Hi there."

Mo Fei gave him a light chuckle and said lightly. "I’m new here, so who are you?"

The man chuckled back, his hair flowing around as another man behind him walked inside; he was a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and casual clothes of a cop.

The first man snapped his fingers and tilted his head. "We are new too, so no worries. For an introduction, I’m Lionel Rofocale."

The middle-aged man behind him walked forward and pulled out his card. "We are cops." He narrowed his eyes and muttered. "Rest assured, we are only here to ask you a few questions."

Mo Fei glanced back. Just then, he was pushed back lightly by Lionel. "Hey, don’t get so frightened over there." Lionel teased as he stepped over the threshold with an easy, cat-like grace. He took off his battered top hat and casually tossed it onto a nearby stool. "I promise you, we won’t arrest you. Well... not unless you give us a perfect reason to."

The door clicked shut behind the middle-aged inspector, sealing the three of them inside the small room.

The faint scent of copper and iron—the blood Mo Fei had hastily stuffed into the bathroom bucket still hung stubbornly in the air even though it was almost hard to notice. Mo Fei still swallowed hard, his throat dry as Lionel began to stroll around the room, his eyes lingering precisely on the bookshelf where the revolver was buried.

Mo Fei forced his hands to stop shaking, plastering a look of timid, lower-class anxiety across his face. He stepped backward, giving the two men space while carefully keeping himself positioned between them and the hidden dustbin. "P-Police?" Mo Fei stammered, his voice cracking perfectly on cue in an act. "I... I haven’t done anything wrong, sirs. Please, sit. I only have two stools..."

The middle-aged inspector didn’t sit. He took out a small notebook and a fountain pen, his cold gaze sweeping across the floorboards. "I appreciate the efforts, but there is no need. We will be brief. Tell me your name, occupation, and your whereabouts twenty minutes ago.

"My name is..." Mo Fei paused for just half a second. "Sherlock Hermès." He replied, leaning slightly against the wall as if his legs were weak from fear. "I’m an apprentice clerk seeking employment. Twenty minutes ago... I was just down the street at the local bakery buying some bread. My stomach was empty, you see."

Lionel started pacing around the room, testing Mo Fei’s psychological limits.

Lionel chuckled, picking up a cheap paperback novel from Mo Fei’s desk and flipping through it lazily. He strolled dangerously close to the covered mirror. "An apprentice clerk? Fascinating. And yet, Mr. Sherlock, your room smells rather peculiar for a starving clerk."

Lionel stopped right in front of the mirror draped in the dirty towel. He raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering over the fabric. "Why cover a perfectly good mirror? Afraid of what you might see?"

Mo Fei’s heart hammered against his ribs. If Lionel pulled that towel away, the Mirror of Truth might get exposed. "I-I have just put it there to wash it away later, sir."

Mo Fei lied smoothly, letting out a heavy, wet cough into his sleeve to prove his point. "I coughed up a bit of phlegm earlier this morning. The local folklore says it’s bad luck to look at a mirror while you’re coughing up sickness... It traps the disease in the house. I was just being superstitious."

The older cop checked the room’s residual spirituality, bringing up the upside-down alley incident.

The older inspector stopped writing. He stared hard at Mo Fei, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Superstition. Right. Tell me, Mr. Sherlock, did you notice anything unusual in the back alleyway when you returned? Perhaps... a sudden loss of color, or the feeling that the world had turned upside down?"

Mo Fei knew this was the trap. If he admitted he saw the Conceptual Domain, they would know he was an Ascended. If he lied too poorly, their spiritual tracking abilities would detect his falsehood.

"Upside down?" Mo Fei blinked, his expression completely blank, mimicking a confused civilian who knew nothing of the occult. "No, sir... just the usual smog. It was very thick today. I almost lost my footing on the damp cobblestones, so I just rushed inside through my window to save time. Is... is everything alright out there?"

Lionel turned away from the mirror, his sharp eyes locked onto Mo Fei’s face, searching for any lie. His gaze remained locked on Mo Fei’s face for a while.

Mo Fei, however, kept his breathing shallow, forcing his eyes to remain wide and filled with the trembling, innocent confusion of a poor civilian.

Finally, Lionel let out a sharp, sudden laugh. He snapped the paperback novel shut and tossed it back onto the desk. "Superstitions and smog." Lionel mused, a mockingly disappointed smile playing on his lips. "How dreadfully ordinary. I must admit, Mr. Sherlock, I expected a bit more excitement from someone who climbs through windows instead of using the front door."

The middle-aged inspector tapped his fountain pen against the notebook. "Climbing through windows to escape the smog is an eccentric habit, but not a criminal offense, it must be just an unusual habit, right, Mr. Sherlock?" The older inspector said with a warm smile. He closed his notebook with a sharp thud and tucked it back inside his heavy coat.

"However, keep your eyes open, Mr. Hermès. A highly dangerous incident occurred in the back alleyway just moments ago. An anomaly. If you see anything... unusual, report it to the constabulary immediately."

"I... I will, sirs. Absolutely." Mo Fei stammered, bowing his head slightly to hide the flash of relief in his eyes.

Lionel scooped up his battered top hat from the stool, twirling it deftly on his finger before placing it back onto his messy black hair. Mo Fei’s breath caught as he saw Lionel moving toward the revolver.

Just then, Mo Fei screamed. "Ah!"

Lionel stopped in his tracks and looked at him and gave him an awkward look.

Mo Fei pointed toward a hole and mumbled. "Eheh, it’s a rat; I’m just scared of them..."

The middle-aged man glanced at the crack in the wall and patted his back. Lionel shrugged and walked toward the bed and lifted it to see if there was anything suspicious. He walked around the room for a while but found nothing.

The middle-aged man exhaled a sigh, then looked at the young man. "I suppose we have found the wrong place."

Lionel stayed silent for a while, then a half-hearted smirk crept on his lips as he moved toward Mo Fei and grabbed his wrist, lifting them up. The sleeve lowered as his ribbon showed up.

Mo Fei pulled his hand back and stepped back a few steps. "I can’t hide anymore then, tell me who you truly are, because you aren’t any cops either."

Lionel chuckled softly, holding the chin under his fist, and ran a hand through his hair. "We are from Midnight Wings, a secret organization. You might already know by now that we are Ascended."

"What do you want?"

"We just sensed a forceful spiritual explosion. Which came from nearby in the alley. Just then, the conceptual domain opened too." Lionel spoke and leaned against the bookshelf.

The middle-aged Ascended closed his eyes and said, "Don’t worry, our organization is different from cults."

"How do you know any of these?"

"We have been doing this work for decades. I’m Captain Benson Helbert." Benson gave him a nod before continuing. "We are an organization that works under the government to stop supernatural cases, since in this world, the number of corrupted beings is exponentially high, and such cases often occur."

Hearing that, Mo Fei examined them and finally spoke. "What is your purpose here?"

"Not specifically anymore." Lionel raised his hand in a gesture. "Though there is one thing since you are an Ascended."

Benson spoke next. "The Midnight Moon, or the Midnight Wings, had many ascended, we helped them find the severed record book pages for Descent. Most of them work as officers there."

Mo Fei’s eyes widened slightly at the words. That was useful... it’d get easier to collect mystical artifacts and the Ordinal pages.

Lionel finally leaned forward. "How about it then? Would you like to be Midnight Wings?"

That was a weird name for Mo Fei; initially, he believed it was named by a kid who just wanted to sound poetic. That name is so ass, midnight WINGS? Such a terrible poetry attempt.

Mo Fei put his hand on a stool beside him and looked around. "What will I get in return for that ’investigation’? Like, I don’t want to starve."

Benson chuckled softly and turned toward the door. "Nothing comes free; anything that comes free costs terribly. You’ll get your salary."

He slid a card on the table before stepping out of the house.

Mo Fei stared at the sky, wondering what to do next...

Should he join? But if he did, then his identity would become a problem since he would have to stay as Sherlock Hermès while using his own face.