"So, have you managed to verify their identities yet? Can you please just let me step inside and check on their condition?"
Mephisto stared blankly at the defensive group of students standing before him. A flicker of sheer exhaustion crossed his face, forcing him to tighten his grip around the staff resting in his hand.
"We are incredibly sorry. It isn't that we distrust you, but..." The teenage student acting as the speaker glanced up at Mephisto's exceptionally bulky frame, swallowing hard as fear gripped his throat. "You truly do not look anything like a medical specialist. This is the very first time any of us has seen a doctor carrying a massive hammer around. Please try to understand our caution."
Mephisto let out a silent groan. Had these absolute blockheads genuinely labeled him a dangerous villain? He was technically still just a youth himself!
"This is a casting staff! A staff! Why on earth would I carry a common blacksmith's hammer? This was a special gift from my instructor. Don't tell me you lot can't even recognize a standard focus when you see one?"
Mephisto raised the weapon aloft to display its unique structure. In truth, during his period of study aboard Rhodes Island, his crocodile-tailed mentor had found their personalities incredibly well-matched, leading her to fashion this customized, heavy-duty design specifically for him.
"Is that so? Then we truly apologize..." The student speaker relaxed his posture slightly, though he still hovered cautiously behind the heavy doorway, wiping a bead of cold sweat from his forehead.
Who in their right mind styles a perfectly good casting staff into the shape of a warhammer?
Nevertheless, the youth finally stepped aside to escort the ailing students forward. These individuals had fallen ill with various mysterious symptoms and desperately required medical attention; had it not been for their worsening state, the group would never have summoned the courage to speak with the infected.
Today marked the seventh day since that terrifying, deer giant had gathered them within this facility. Rumors suggested that several sectors of the city had yet to be fully quieted down, leaving them confined inside the school grounds for a full week.
"Why does looking at you people always make me feel so incredibly weary?" Mephisto muttered to himself as he noted the lingering suspicion in the boy's eyes. He was beginning to regret volunteering for medical duty here.
"Well, it might have something to do with the fact that you look incredibly intimidating, Mephisto," a nearby fighter whispered from behind. "A six-foot-six behemoth standing there with a giant lump of iron tends to terrify ordinary folk."
Mephisto flashed a lethal glare over his shoulder, prompting the fighter to instantly shut his mouth. Offending the resident medic was never a wise path forward, as such blunders rarely ended well.
"Mm, their lives aren't in danger," Mephisto noted, frowning as he inspected the patients. "They are simply suffering from severe malnutrition. Your storage warehouses were packed to the brim with rations—how did you manage to starve yourselves like this?"
"It was those corrupt nobles," the student replied, his voice laced with bitter resentment. "They seized nearly all the high-grade supplies for themselves, leaving us with nothing but scraps."
"Hmph. Caught like rats in a trap and they still find the time to play their petty tyranny games," Mephisto scoffed, thoroughly speechless at how these youths had endured such treatment without ever thinking to rebel.
Still, he had no desire to interfere in their internal squabbles. This was the path they had chosen to walk, and within a few days, everyone would be permitted to leave anyway.
"When... when will we finally be allowed out?" a frail student asked in a trembling voice, gathering his remaining courage after realizing the massive medic wasn't actually going to harm them.
"Soon. Once the surrounding streets are fully secured, you will be released. Things are still rather volatile nearby," Mephisto replied smoothly, using the exact same response he had already delivered dozens of times that morning.
"Uh..."
The youth opened his mouth to ask another question, but his eyes suddenly widened as he spotted a figure sprinting toward the building from across the courtyard, clutching what appeared to be an incendiary device, clearly intent on torching the facility.
Before the rogue could even take another step, a group of hidden guards materialized from the shadows, instantly slamming the instigator face-first into the dirt with flawless efficiency. The response was so perfectly timed it looked exactly like an intentional sting operation.
"See that?" Mephisto explained helplessly to the trembling students. "That is the current state of the city. Letting you roam free right now would put your lives at risk. Go back and tell your companions to stay put; we have no intention of harming you."
The youths nodded frantically, thoroughly thoroughly convinced. The outside world looked terrifyingly dangerous; they were more than content to remain safely inside.
Meanwhile, at the central Chernobog precinct, the local patrolmen were staring at the maiden seated in the center of the room as if she were a divine being. To handle the chaos of an entire city without ever stepping foot out the door was a feat none of them could have envisioned.
Jeanne was currently slouching at the desk, looking thoroughly bored. She hadn't left this room in days, staying confined to ensure that no major disasters slipped through the cracks during the transition.
With Reunion still adapting to the city's infrastructure, various malicious factions were trying to exploit the confusion to trigger riots and plunge the districts back into chaos.
To counter this, Jeanne had taken direct command of the local law enforcement. Initially, the veteran patrolmen had been deeply resentful of her presence, though they had kept their mouths shut out of fear.
Now, however, they viewed Jeanne as the absolute guiding light of the department. Conducting investigations under her direction felt as if they had been granted divine vision; every single bust went off without a hitch.
They knew exactly which suspects carried hidden weapons and precisely where the criminals would manifest before the crimes were even committed. If they still managed to botch a raid with that level of intelligence, they would look like complete amateurs.
As for the ethical dilemma of working for the infected? Please. Even the Emperor himself had officially recognized Reunion's authority to manage Chernobog. Why should ordinary working stiffs like them throw away a steady paycheck over politics?
Any guard who truly couldn't stomach the change was entirely free to resign. The new administration had already stated that anyone unwilling to live under the new system could wait until the dust settled, at which point they would be granted safe passage to other Ursus territories.
While some complained that this arrangement disrupted their lives and felt unfair, it was already the most generous option any occupying force could possibly offer.
Furthermore, the fighters had a very valid counterpoint: None of you regular citizens showed this much compassion when the infected were being dragged through the dirt, so you should count your lucky stars you're being given a choice at all.
"Could you lot please stop staring at me like that? It's getting a bit uncomfortable," Jeanne muttered, feeling a heavy weight of awkwardness as a dozen massive, broad-shouldered guards watched her every move.
"Ah, please forgive us, Lady Jeanne. We are simply marveling at how much lighter our workload has become thanks to your guidance," one of the patrolmen replied, scratching the back of his neck with a grin.
Jeanne found it hard to be harsh toward these men, who had remained dedicated to their duties even during the height of the Catastrophe. Still, the silent adoration was proving to be a massive mental burden.
She understood why they had grown so attached to her; she had personally resolved several cold cases that had languished on their books for years, cases that had previously cost the lives of many of their fellow officers.
We really need to find a proper administrator to take over this department, Jeanne thought to herself. Acting as a divine oracle in a police precinct is getting ridiculous. A regular maiden shouldn't be playing the role of a fortune-teller for the watch.
She briefly toyed with the wild idea of sneaking into Lungmen to kidnap Ch'en and forcing her to manage the paperwork for a few months. Given Ch'en's history with Talulah, the superintendent would probably cooperate to a certain degree just to keep an eye on her sister.
As for the previous chief of police? That corrupt bastard and his circle of cronies—who had spent years tormenting the local populace for entertainment—had already been locked in chains. They were currently on a one-way trip to the frozen wastes of the north to dig for Originium.
With no active cases to handle, Jeanne collapsed face-first onto the desk, entering her energy-saving mode. Seeing this, the officers quietly dispersed to attend to their duties, careful not to disturb her rest.
They had grown used to her quiet spells. They also understood that Jeanne didn't fully comprehend the day-to-day bureaucracy of a precinct, so her choice to sit back was her way of ensuring she didn't disrupt their established routines.
Jeanne remained tucked away in the station for several more days until the wave of violent crimes finally dropped to a negligible level. Only then did she completely step back from their management, content to simply watch their operations from afar.
Fortunately, her boring desk routine didn't last much longer. Talulah soon requested her presence for a far more pressing matter—specifically, to help receive a group of newly arrived delegates.
When Jeanne arrived at the meeting hall, she found herself staring at a delegation of Laterano Sankta, all of whom began weeping with profound joy the moment they laid eyes on her.
Looking at the emotional crowd, Jeanne felt a sudden, powerful urge to punch someone.
Yet, beneath the bizarre arrival, a monumentally important event was finally about to take place. The representatives from Rhodes Island had officially entered the gates, and they were finally ready to begin the excavation of the sarcophagus.