Chapter 166: Dramatic Cats And Debriefings

BSA containment vans surrounded the smoking ruins as agents herded freed spirits toward medical triage stations.

Kane watched a bird spirit with regenerating wings refuse assistance, its defiant cry echoing across the hospital grounds.

Commander Qi emerged from a tactical vehicle, his bronze antlers gleaming under the emergency floodlights.

His green eyes swept over the assembled group with barely contained fury.

"Agent Ashwood. Agent Ginsei." His voice carried the weight of impending disciplinary action.

"Care to explain why you’re both present at an unauthorized operation that resulted in the destruction of a classified facility?"

Ginsei straightened, ice-blue eyes meeting Qi’s glare without flinching. "Sir, Agent Ashwood was—"

"Kidnapped," Cyrus interrupted, his presence commanding immediate attention.

"Your agent was taken by Elias Thorne. This was a rescue operation, not an unauthorized mission."

Mochi, still in cat form, wrapped himself around Kane’s ankle with an indignant hiss.

"Scaley Daddy’s right! Fox boy got nabbed by the big bad wolf while dragon prince was away on business."

Qi’s scarred eye twitched at Mochi’s terminology, but his focus remained on Kane.

"Is this accurate, Agent Ashwood?"

Kane nodded, unconsciously adjusting his grip on the hidden obsidian egg. "Elias took me from Cyrus’s...office. I was unconscious before I knew what happened."

Commander Qi’s green eyes lingered on Kane’s careful word choice—office—but he didn’t press the issue.

"Regardless of the circumstances," Qi said, his tone shifting from accusatory to grudgingly approving, "you and Agent Ginsei have uncovered what appears to be the largest spirit trafficking operation in BSA history."

Ginsei inclined his head slightly.

"The facility contained over two hundred captive spirits, sir. Evidence of systematic experimentation and enhancement programs."

"The synthetic binding agents, the artificial constructs," Kane added, his voice steadier now. "This connects to everything we’ve been investigating—the break-ins, the rogue attacks, all of it."

Qi surveyed the chaos around them: BSA medics treating traumatized spirits, containment teams cataloging evidence, and the smoking crater where St. Mariel’s research levels once stood.

"Excellent work, both of you." His praise carried genuine weight.

"However, I’ll need comprehensive reports on everything that transpired here. Every detail, every connection, every piece of evidence recovered."

"Yes, sir," Kane and Ginsei replied in unison.

Mochi stretched languidly around Kane’s leg. "Does that include the part where fox boy went all sparkly nine-tails and—"

Kane quickly scooped up the cat spirit before he could elaborate further.

"Full reports," Kane confirmed hastily. "We’ll have them on your desk by next week."

Commander Qi’s experienced gaze lingered on Kane, noting the subtle shifts in his spiritual signature.

Kane’s aura flickered with unfamiliar depths—silver threads weaving through patterns that hadn’t existed days ago.

Something fundamental had changed.

Qi’s nostrils flared slightly, detecting traces of synthetic compounds clinging to Kane’s clothes, mixed with something far older and more primal.

"Agent Ashwood." Qi’s voice carried quiet authority. "Your spirit resonance appears...altered."

Kane tensed, Mochi purring louder in his arms as if to provide cover.

"The facility had experimental gases, sir. Probably just residual exposure."

A diplomatic non-answer. Typical Kane.

Qi studied the exhaustion etched into both agents’ faces—Ginsei’s usual pristine composure cracked, and Kane’s amber eyes were dim with trauma despite their new underlying fire.

Whatever had transpired in those underground chambers, his agents had paid a price for their discoveries.

"Very well." Qi stepped back, bronze antlers catching the emergency lights.

"You’re both dismissed. The BSA cleanup crews will handle evidence processing."

He paused, green eyes boring into Kane one final time.

"We’ll discuss your...exposure...when you file your report."

Kane nodded quickly, relief flooding his features.

"Understood, sir. Thank you."

As the group departed, Qi watched Kane’s retreating figure with growing certainty that his fox spirit was hiding something significant.

Again.

The BSA cleanup crews worked around them as the four companions walked towards Cyrus’s Lamborghini.

Kane stretched, his new nine tails swishing with restless energy beneath his glamour.

"We should celebrate," he declared, amber eyes bright with adrenaline. "We just tore apart a major trafficking operation, rescued a bunch of spirits, and survived Elias’s mad science experiment. We should head to—"

"My shop!" Mochi wailed, transforming back to his human form with dramatic flair. "My beautiful, profitable shop that dragon boy turned into a smoking crater!"

He pointed an accusing finger at Cyrus, who had the grace to look mildly apologetic.

"I need to assess the damage. Count my losses. Weep dramatically over my destroyed inventory."

Ginsei’s ice-blue eyes narrowed, remembering Mochi’s earlier enthusiasm about renovating his shop.

"Weren’t you just telling us how excited you were for your dream renovation? Something about newer arcade cabinets and upgraded lighting?"

Mochi’s theatrical wailing cut off abruptly, replaced by a sheepish grin.

"Fine, fine. Maybe I’m being a tiny bit dramatic for extra pity points." He shrugged without shame.

"Sue me—I’m a cat. Drama comes with the territory."

Cyrus’s expression remained thoroughly unimpressed by the performance.

Kane sighed but nodded. "Fair enough. Mochi’s place first, then we figure out food."

Cyrus opened the Lamborghini’s doors with a soft beep.

Mochi bounced into the car beside Ginsei, already plotting his insurance claims.

Kane settled into his customary passenger seat, unconsciously relaxing as Cyrus’s familiar presence surrounded him.

The obsidian egg pressed warm against his ribs, hidden beneath his jacket.

The Lamborghini’s engine purred as Cyrus navigated away from the flashing emergency lights, leaving St. Mariel’s smoking ruins in the rearview mirror.

Kane settled deeper into the leather passenger seat, surprised by how natural it felt to have Ginsei and Mochi filling the back seats.

The car’s interior, usually so pristine and intimidating, now buzzed with comfortable chaos.

Mochi’s dramatic sighing mixed with Ginsei’s occasional directional corrections created an oddly soothing soundtrack.

"Turn left at the next intersection," Ginsei instructed, his usual ice-cold demeanor softened by exhaustion.

"I know where I’m going," Cyrus replied mildly, but he followed Ginsei’s guidance anyway.

Kane glanced back at their unlikely passengers—Ginsei slumped against the window with uncharacteristic casualness, Mochi already dozing despite his earlier theatrical distress about his shop.

Tonight’s mysteries were far from resolved, but for now, surrounded by allies who’d risked everything to rescue him, the questions could wait.

Cyrus’s hand found Kane’s across the center console, fingers intertwining with ease.

"Another mystery for another day," Kane murmured, watching Feilun’s neon-lit streets blur past.

Soon, Mochi’s shop came into view—or what remained of it.