"I don't know, maybe they got arrested," Merka shook his head.

"Why? Isn't it not considered a crime for Curseborn to live in the city?"

"Maybe it's affecting the cityscape, who knows."

"But no matter what charges they come up with, it doesn't matter. When one wants to add fuel to the fire, one can always find a reason," Merka vented, kicking a nearby basket of grass with a desolate tone.

"I'm going to the police station."

"I want to demand an explanation from them."

Looking at Turing's determined gaze, a hint of mixed confusion flashed through Merka's long-depleted inner self.

Merka, who had been soaked in fear and timidity towards city dwellers since childhood, never imagined that besides retreat, there could also be resistance to the persecution in this miserable environment.

"Are we going now?"

"But it's already late."

Turing looked up at the moon in the sky and shook her head calmly.

The crescent moon hung in the clouds, sinking in the sea of stars, half-falling and hanging there - the moonlit night around eight or nine o'clock was indeed enchanting, but unfortunately, at this time, most of Acadia had already gone home early to rest, missing out on such a beautiful scenery.

With a light touch of her lips, Turing said, "Let's go now."

"Otherwise, by tomorrow, the special police of Keobagh isn't even sure where they'll be, let alone that Curseborn girl."

"..."

Turing saw that Merka was not very willing, so she remained silent, waiting for Merka's decision.

"Fine, I'll go with you. But promise me, don't reveal your identity until the end."

"It's a special period now, and Agio's side is on high alert. If you casually show up, it will definitely cause a commotion."

"Yeah, I know."

Turing reached out her small, tender, white onion-like jade hand to Merka, led her, spread out her magical wings, and disappeared into the moonlit sea with Merka.

--------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door of the police station.

"Chief, someone wants to see you."

A young woman in a police uniform opened the door of the chief's office, coming to a middle-aged woman who was playing with an antique item.

The woman had many wrinkles on her face, and her body had gained some weight. She slightly raised her eyelids and carefully studied the old object in her hand, emitting a lazy and bored air all over her.

"Oh, did you catch another Curseborn? What a fruitful night it seems to be," the woman said as the summon was heard, slightly raising her interest.

"No, it's two kids who came."

"Do you want to see them?"

"No, no need. What could be so urgent at this late hour?"

"Can't the other officers on duty handle it? Don't bother me with minor issues."

As the chief impatiently spoke, she waved her hand to dismiss the person.

"One of those two children is Merka."

"Merka? The newly appointed squire knight?" the woman said respectfully.

Having lived for so long allows one to witness all sorts of things, even a blind person becoming a commander - I want to see what he can command blindly."

The chief and the woman shared a disdainful smile, their hearty laughter echoing through the spacious office.

"Let him in, but remember to be polite," the chief jokingly pointed towards the door, wiggling his finger.

The woman approached the door with understanding, elegantly opened it, welcoming Merka and Turing, who had been waiting at the door, into the room, followed by a large group of police officers.

As the thirteenth disciple, Merka was a senior leader of the main hall. What exactly does this signify may be lost on the common folks of Acadia who are unfamiliar with political affairs, but the police chief, as an aide to the nobility, certainly understood.

For a local-level chief sitting there nonchalantly, waiting for a senior leader like it's no big deal, what kind of spirit does that rely on?

She didn't have that spirit. Her source of courage was the emptiness beneath her and Merka's differences, her source of courage was her pair of intact eyes in their sockets.

Ordinary people might not know Merka's Curseborn identity, but the high-ranking female chief was well aware of this unflattering fact.

Turing, with a dark face, followed behind Merka into the room, quickly scanning the furnishings inside.

The luxurious book lamp on the table, the graceful Chinese calligraphy hanging in the center of the white wall, the sparkling European decorations depicting stars and rivers on the windows - everything was there except for case files.

This didn't look like an office at all. It was more like a museum.

"Did she think I couldn't hear what they were saying at the door just now?"

"Or were they saying it on purpose for me to hear?"

Taking a deep breath, Turing pushed down the burning rage in her heart. Ever since being with Merka, Turing had struggled with controlling her emotions for a while.

Shaking her head lightly, Turing pushed away the violent thoughts in her mind, realizing that she might have been too sensitive.

Maybe there was a misunderstanding, and the missing girl had nothing to do with these officers?

But the female chief disappointed Turing.

"Oh, isn't this the prominent figure by His Holiness's side?"

"What wind has blown you here?"