Alte had initially assumed it was just another spam message from Favna—until he saw Abel’s forwarded note. He instantly dismissed the idea.

After all, Favna was that socially anxious recluse. There was no way she’d know any royal from the Fallen Empire, let alone possess the empress’s private number.

Plainly impossible.

So… who sent this clue?

If someone claimed the Abyssal Demonkin sent it, Alte wouldn’t believe it. No one’s foolish enough to commit a crime right outside a police station.

Even if such fools existed, they’d be rare. Surely the slave traffickers wouldn’t have someone lacking basic common sense on their team?

Facing the unknown lead, Alte stayed cautious. He even wondered: was this a trap meant to lure them in?

But after a moment’s thought, he shook his head.

Those traffickers might handle regular police—but never the knights of the Dragon Knights Order.

“Bro, what now? Move out?” Philo pointed at the address in the message, face grave.

“We move. Even if the clue’s shaky, it’s still a lead,” Alte said. He handed the text to intelligence agents. “Find whoever’s hiding behind this.”

“Still… bad news. We don’t know why they’re helping. Accessing my data *and* royal records? Clearly a top-tier hacker. Stay sharp…”

If the sender had clear motives, Alte might’ve felt easier. But this ambiguity gave him a headache.

As the saying goes: *Free things cost the most.* He *had* to uncover who this was.

“No time to waste. Prepare to move.”

Philo acknowledged the order, rallying the Dragon Knights and alerting the police bureau for the raid.

Magic was authorized if needed.

No mercy for slave traffickers.

“I’ll head back first. You go ahead.”

Alte needed gear from his office. He also told Favna to stay locked in her bedroom—too risky to go out tonight.

“Okay.”

The siblings parted ways.

Alte soon returned to the office. Favna was still gaming.

“Gaming again?”

“Mm-hmm.”

She obediently nodded, eyes flicking to gauge his reaction. Seeing he noticed nothing, she let out a tiny sigh of relief.

Noticing him strap on armor and grab his standard lance, she asked softly, “Mission?”

“Yeah…” Alte sighed. “Won’t be long. Intel says only a dozen small-timers there. If I’m late, bathe and sleep—don’t wait. And *don’t* go out tonight.”

Gear secured and instructions given, he closed the door and left.

Favna stared blankly at his retreating back, muttering, “What weird dialogue… I’m not your girlfriend or anything.”

Grumbling aside, she kept working.

Alte had mentioned something critical.

Based on *her* intel, Naro City’s East District underground casino held far more than a dozen traffickers.

The Empire’s intelligence bureau had clearly missed it—feeding Alte dangerously wrong info.

Was she mistaken? She was already verifying.

“No way it’s just a dozen,” she whispered firmly.

Trusting her data but refusing to muddy Alte’s judgment, she dove deeper.

Hacking the casino’s network was easy for her. (She’d never dare breach the Dragon Guard—but underground groups? Child’s play.)

Soon, she controlled the surveillance feeds.

Seven or eight cameras showed sparse traffickers and men with lecherous grins buying victims for twisted pleasures.

“One… two… three…”

She counted visible guards. Only about a dozen.

But shadows hid more.

One feed revealed a cellblock: dozens of women and children, teens to thirty, imprisoned.

Beside them stood three three-meter-tall giants—jet-black skin, bull horns.

Brutal Demons. Fullmoon Tier. Elite soldiers in human lands.

*(Quick tier refresher: Starlight, Crescent Moon, Fullmoon, Rising Sun, Radiant Sun, Stellar. Stellar = near-god. All below = mortal. Mortals bleed. Ambushed without magic? A lower-tier *can* fell a higher one—like Dark Souls: sneak well enough, and a level-one solo-kills the boss.)*

Favna faintly overheard the demons:

“Tsk tsk… All this fresh meat. Mouth’s watering,” the captain mused.

“Captain, if you’re drooling, why’s your hand *there*?” another snapped. “They’re merchandise. Touch them? We lose our heads.”

“Tch. Once sold out, we pull out. Bombs ready?”

“Obviously. Dragon Knights are closing in. New spot needed. But first—we blow this place to smithereens.”

He pulled out a thick bundle of Mana Crystal Bombs.

Favna froze.

*Enough to vaporize the whole building!*

She scrambled to warn Alte—same “spam” trick.

Halfway through… his phone was off. Mission mode.

“Off *now*?!” she cried in despair.