Strong scents of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne attacked Edward as soon as he entered the police station. It was the day after Blackburn's trial and the robbery attempt by Men of Midas in Ussermis. As he made his way through the cubicle offices of his department, he noticed every set of eyes that lingered a second too long on him. He occasionally caught a muffled laugh or whisper. They all like to laugh at me. Make a fool out of me simply for refusing to be as lazy or bought off as they are. I don't mind. Let them laugh. I couldn’t give a shit.
Once he finally sat down in his cubicle, he hoped to have 5 straight minutes of silence for himself. He closed his eyes and tried emptying his mind. That kid at the convenience store yesterday… he said that all he wanted was peace and quiet… I guess that makes two of us. I don’t want to think about Blackburn, Mallistrom or anyone like them for that matter. Just for 5 minutes. Just for 5 fucking minutes.
However, not even two minutes had passed before Derlick appeared at his cubicle. "Trying to get some shuteye?" he asked Edward.
"Trying would be a good description."
"Well, anyway—"
"Let me rephrase that: go away!" he attempted to shoo away his friend.
"Oh, don’t be an idiot. With your luck, Dillard would pass by right now, see you like that, and fire your damn ass." Well… I guess he has a point. Luck has never been on my side.
"Fine, what is it?"
"I looked at the security camera footage from the store attack. Looks like the robbers pulled their guns on that old man and his worker before those two shot them."
"Plausible cause for self-defense. They're off the hook. Anything on those 2 Justicars?"
"Elastics. Can't make out anything about them, other than one's voice."
"Does it help us?"
"Not really."
"Well, I guess this case is closed then."
"Dillard won't like this. I mean, he doesn’t like getting nothing on the Justicars in cases where they show up."
"Jonah Dillard gets a hard-on from dead Justicars and money in his pocket. He got enough satisfaction from making the media pin all 3 deaths on them."
"Well, for him there's no such thing as too much bad publicity for the White Knights of Alataria."
The two decided to get some coffee from the coffee machine, if not to shake off some of the morning fatigue, then, at least, to get away from the annoying faces of everyone around them.
"Have you heard about those bodies they found?" asked Derlick.
"No. What bodies?"
"They found two bodies in Canstow yesterday. Both of them had their arms and eyes cut off and their hearts cut out."
"Wow. Sounds grizzly," said Edward as he sipped his coffee.
"Yeah, and two days earlier they found two other bodies like that in Basilham."
"So the guy travels fast. Those cities aren’t that close."
"They're already naming him the Tri-Surgeon, after some old fairy tale or something."
"The Three Army Surgeons, by the Grimm brothers." Edward knew the tale, and could see the connection. Three army surgeons perform surgery on themselves, trying to impress an innkeeper. One cuts off his own arm, the second one cuts out his own eyes, and the third one cuts out his own heart. All three of them are supposed to restore their old organs back into place the next day, but after a cat sneaks in and steals their organs, they are forced to implant themselves with a pig's heart, a cat's eyes and a dead thief's hand.
"Word has it that Dillard wants to put Vernes on the case."
"Vernes? But he's still assigned to the Blackburn case."
"Not for long. With that key evidence gone, there's nothing really left to hope for. Dillard will just replace Vernes with some random guy until the case is closed next week so he can get a move on with this Tri-Surgeon thing."
"Goddammit! He's not even trying to save that case! Blackburn's going to walk free!" Edward snapped.
"Yeah, I know. I actually asked Vernes about this yesterday and he fucking shrugged, man."
Edward let off a long sigh. Although he was disappointed hearing that, he knew Vernes wasn’t much of a justice seeker. Vernes didn't really want the case, but Dillard had forced him to take it. Dillard had only one reason to go head on with Code Sanguinary, and that reason was simply that he had no reason not to. Since Blackburn founded Code Sanguinary shortly after the Tearful Rebellion on the principle of rebelling against the government, the OldGen General never had any intentions of filling the police’s pockets, as opposed to people like Reus Mallistrom and Sunyula Trife, who did. It’s was Dillard’s way of showing Blackburn what happens when you don’t play his game.
Edward was enraged upon hearing that Dillard was just going to give up on putting Blackburn away. Blackburn was a long time wanted criminal, and those types are very hard to take down, especially when you have cops who seem to have trouble deciding which side of the law they're on. One of the factors that triggered the Tearful Rebellion was the worse-than-ever economic state Alataria found itself in. The government issued a series of budget cuts, accompanied with tax raises, which infuriated the people who could barely make a living as it is. One of the budgets that was cut was the one that basically funded the police force, and one of the effects of that cut was a major decrease in the lower ranks’ salaries. While some chose to quit the force and find another way to make a living, others found a way to restore some of that money they lost and even more by basically going corrupt, choosing to go against the principles of their own jobs in order to make ends meet. Although Edward knew of this, his feeling of repulsion overcame his sense of sympathy. He put down his cup of coffee and stormed away.
"Where are you going?" Derlick called after him.
"To talk some sense into the Chief of Police," Edward strode away into the long halls that led to Jonah Dillard's office. I've had enough of his bullshit. Jonah Dillard… if it were up to me I would fire his ass. The guy has no care for law enforcement. He's willing to cut the Deserter General loose just like that. No way won't I have a say in this matter.
Once Edward reached the luxury offices of the high faculty of the APD, he noticed a change in the atmosphere, as opposed to his own department. The musky smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne was gone, and the dusty, large open space was replaced with glamorous wooden walls and private offices, and the cheap furniture was replaced with ones of quality material. It felt as if he had somehow teleported himself to a whole different place. I guess when most of the money flows to the high chairs…
A large, wooden reception desk stood in the middle of the room. A blonde secretary sat there, wearing red-framed glasses, a tight suit, and a short skirt. Some eye candy for all these old, greedy bastards to look at every time they leave or come to their office. "Hi, I need to see Jonah Dillard," he said as he approached the secretary.
"Oh, well, luckily for you, he's in his office and he has some spare time," she said. "Let me just check with him." She tapped on her SmartWrist, activating its digital display, and dialed a number. She took it from her wrist and snapped it straight, placing it next to her ear. "Mr. Dillard, there's an officer here to see you."
"Edward Elwin." He made sure she passed on the name.
"His name is Edward Elwin." This won't work, he doesn’t know me, there's no way he'll waste his time with someone he doesn’t even know.
"Tell him I can solve him both problems of Blackburn and the Tri-Surgeon cases."
"H-He says he can… solve both problems of Blackburn and the Tri-Surgeon cases," she hesitated to repeat his words. The next few seconds were filled with nods and agreements on the secretary's part. "Very well," she said at the end of the conversation, hanging up the call and snapping her SmartWrist back around her wrist. "You can go in, Officer Elwin."
"Thank you," he said and made his way to the Chief of Police's office door.
Dillard's office was large and very inviting. Three black couches stood at one end of it while a large wooden desk and a high, black leather chair stood at the other end. This is where he must sit and laugh with his friends in high places while they drink expensive wine, Edward thought as he passed by the couches. He shifted his sight to Dillard's desk. And once Dillard's done with that, he takes them here and seals whatever deal he wants from them. Behind the tall leather chair, a wall of glass stood proud, showing the cityscape of Morth City behind it. A few medals of decoration and honorary diplomas hung on the walls around, some credited to Dillard when he was only a Vice Chief of Police. He doesn’t deserve any of them, Edward could spit on them. How does a man so wretched and corrupted gets so much applause? If it weren't for Dillard, many ringleaders would be sitting in jail right now, and who knows how many lives would have been saved.
"Officer Elwin," Dillard said, sitting on his tall chair. Jonah Dillard's appearance fit with his OldGen name. His short white hair and the wrinkles on his face suggested that he was nearing 60 in age. "I hear that you wanted to discuss with me about—"
"Charles Blackburn must not walk free," Edward dared to interrupt his superior in command. Dillard's bright green eyes sparkled as he narrowed his sight at the rude officer in front of him.
"I agree, but—"
"Then why are you—?"
"I warn you," Dillard slammed his hand on his desk. "If you interrupt me one more time…" Dillard slowly calmed himself. Goddammit, Edward, calm yourself. If you keep going like this, you're going to find yourself with no job.
"Right. Sorry, sir."
Dillard sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Edward… that’s a name you don’t see much of anymore at your age. Did your father name you after himself?"
"As did his own father."
"Really? An OldGen name passed for three generations… Interesting."
"Our careers were also passed down."
"You mean both your father and grandfather were officers?"
"That's right. I followed in my old man's footsteps."
"I guess he's retired."
"He's dead," Edward declared in a cold, dead tone.
"I see… I'm sorry to hear that. Did he die on the job?"
"No. In his own bed at age 68. Terminal cancer." And he cursed this country and its people every single day during his illness, until the day he died. I had to hear it again and again. 'Rotten,' he would tell me. 'Rotten to the ground. Every single one of them.' Edward reminisced about those days in his mind. I never really bothered to ask him who he was referring to exactly. In the end, it didn’t really matter. I learned that it applies to everyone. Criminals and law enforcers alike. He wanted to see justice done, but he never got that, and when he died I took his wish and embraced it as my own.
"And tell me, Edward, how long have you been in APD?"
"Two years, sir."
"That's what I thought." Dillard cleared his throat. "You see, my father was a fisherman," he said. "He used to catch his fish at Oakneil and sell them to fish traders at Herkin Port." Edward tried to understand where he was going with the origin story, but he couldn’t figure it out. "He was a poor, old man who never got to achieve much in his life."
"S-Sir, I don’t—"
"Surely you can understand the struggles someone from a poor family has to go through to pay for his own tuition and make his way to get to where I am now?" Only now was Edward starting to see the point in Dillard's words. "I've been fighting and working hard on the force for almost 40 years, so I'm anxious to know what an officer of only two years can teach me that I don’t know, about two of my most high-profile cases." A hint of fury was apparent in Dillard's voice. His hands were spread out on the wooden table, and his eyes were fixated on Edward, piercing him with their intense gaze.
"S-Sir, I meant no offense."
"And yet here you are, claiming to be able to 'solve my problem,' as you put it. So…" Dillard inched closer from the other side of the table. "What solution have you brought me?" Edward sensed contempt in his voice.
"Sir, Vernes isn’t going to bother looking for that missing footage. That means Blackburn walks free."
Dillard rose from his seat. Suddenly Edward noticed how tall he was. He turned around to face the view of the city, through the glass wall. "Why are you so eager to get Blackburn in prison, if I may ask?" Dillard asked him. "You do know that the Deserter General would simply be replaced by one of his four lieutenants, right?"
"I do. But he still deserves punishment."
"Punishment, eh? And what about his men? Don’t they deserve to be punished too?"
"Sir, with all due respect, if it were up to me, I would launch an offensive against Code Sanguinary. You know damn well they're not the same as they were 10 years ago. Code Sanguinary has much fewer men nowadays, and they've drastically decreased their activities. They're at the weakest they've ever been."
"And yet even at their weakest, they are still surprisingly strong. Let me remind you, Officer Elwin, that strength isn't always measured in numbers. Blackburn's soldiers have gone through tougher training than the military itself. They're deadly and accurate, and they have military-grade weapons. Launching an attack against them would end up with a lot of casualties." As right as he may be, something about his voice tells me that he doesn’t even want Code Sanguinary to be gone. "Either way, if you think imprisoning Blackburn would make any difference, you're greatly mistaken. These days, cutting the snake's head isn't enough. It simply grows another." Dillard took a long sigh. He appeared weary all of a sudden as if his age was finally starting to show. "I still remember the day Henrick Trife passed away. A heart attack. It was so sudden. No one saw it coming. I remember the overall sense of joy that was in the air. It was silly, really. Henrick Trife was hardly the only ringleader in Alataria at the time, and his passing wasn’t going to abolish all crime in this country, yet everyone seemed so… hopeful. They honestly expected change to come." Dillard looked away from the city. His eyes now lingered on the floor. "It was only a short while before Sunyula took over his organization, and then all the smile and laughs were gone. Everyone learned a hard lesson back then. In this country, taking down a fiend only brings forth a bigger one."
Edward remained silent for a few moments. It was hard to find the right words, as he knew Dillard wasn't lying. "This… I can't say that this isn't true. But I will take this risk. I will bring THIS fiend down. Give me the Blackburn case. I'll search for that missing evidence while you give Vernes the Tri-Surgeon. You have nothing to lose."
"Are you sure you want this? You do realize that if Blackburn or his men learn of your attempts to take him down, you might make a target out of yourself."
"I won't be intimidated by some rogue soldiers."
"I see. So… where is all this willingness coming from? Did you lose someone at their hands or something?"
"No, sir. I'm just… like my father." I'd rather see justice done than see some bills in my hand. He wanted to say that so badly, yet he held back.
