Secret Society: Raising Calamity Class Disciples

Xavier and Eulene entered the Detectivete Complex. A constable wearing a black coat and a rounded tall hat led them through neat corridors until they finally reached their destination- the superintendent's office.

The room was relatively large, with a couple of shelves and a desk. Behind the desk, sat a man who appeared in his forties- wearing a black coat and a hat. He had a pair of round spectacles on, with a looped string hanging from one side. He was skimming through a file.

There was a nameplate on the desk that said 'Solomon Franklin'.

"Greetings," Xavier said.

The superintendent moved his gaze from the file and turned to the duo. The moment the two familiar faces came into his view, the corner of his lips twitched. He stood up and peered behind the pair of 'guests'. Seeing nobody 'escorting' them, he sighed in relief. But he asked a question nevertheless, just to be sure.

"How many poor fellas did you shoot down this time?"

A giggle escaped Eulene's lips.

But Xavier remained calm. "Rest assured, officer," he said. "We are here with some questions."

Officer Franklin teetered his gaze between the duo before gesturing them to sit down.

Xavier and Eulene complied and sat at the desk. The man sat down as well.

"So, how may I help you?" The officer asked. "I have to apologise in advance if you are here to ask for a medal."

"We need some information," Xavier replied, "access to a few files here to be exact."

The officer frowned. "Last time, you had given us proof of your connection to the military and the House of Electals. I am sure you know that there's a procedure to-."

"Eulene Maisel," Xavier interrupted.

The middle aged man's eyes twitched. "How do you-"

Eulene arched a bit forward. "I am studying under Aunt Maisel."

The man gave Eulene a deep look. He heaved out a sigh. "How is she now? I did not have the face to visit her for the last years."

"She's fine," Eulene said, "but still misses her."

"I tried my best." The officer took off his glasses and inspected it. "We searched every nook and cranny but still failed." He sighed. "I failed my friend in heaven."

"Don't blame yourself," Xavier said. "I am well aware how understaffed the detectivete here is. Hence, I want to reopen the case- albeit, at a higher level- by taking in to the Aramon branch. With my connections, it is more than possible."

"Is that so?" The man wore back his round spectacles. "I tried that before. But nobody was at the headquarters was interested at a missing child case, even though the child was an officer's own daughter. But with your power, maybe you can do it, despite the case being cold now."

"You can leave it to me," Xavier assured.

The officer stood up. "Please wait. I will fetch the file."

Xavier stood up as well. "We'll accompany you."

Eulene followed.

The man did not disagree and let them follow.

The superintendent led them to the file room. It was the largest room in the complex, housing dozens of metallic shelves.

The constable in charge was a young man. He stood up and saluted the officer.

"Rest at ease," the officer commanded. He then led the duo through the rows of shelves and finally stopped before a particular one.

The superintendent pulled out a drawer which contained all the disappearance cases of the last ten years. He took out a file, brought out a report and handed it to Xavier.

Xavier's eyes were on the paper, but mind- somewhere else. His sense of particles scanned all the files in that drawer. All the molecules of paper and ink formed a three dimensional image in his consciousness. He successfully copied all the disappearance cases of the last ten years.

Xavier turned to the man. "If you don't mind…"

"Sure!" The officer affirmed. "I will have the scrivener make a copy. It will take a bit of time."

"It's completely fine." Xavier handed the report back to the superintendent. "We'll wait."

After a quarter of an hour, the duo received the copied report. After a few words with the superintendent- Solomon Franklin- they left.

As soon as they did, David and his team rushed into the files room and opened the exact drawer which the superintendent opened before. David's grey eyes glinted gold as he flipped through all the files, scanning them and committing all the names and pictures- everything- to his memory.

The superintendent hastened in and saluted David. "I gave him a copy of case 170612003," he reported.

"Do you think they came all the way here just to look at one missing girl's report?" David kept flipping through the files. His hat veiled the golden glow in his eyes.

"Pardon?" Superintendent Franklin frowned.

"Nevermind. You can leave."

The officer turned around, ready to leave. But before he could take a step, David interrupted.

"You should draw a line between your personal life and your professional one."

Officer Franklin bowed and left.

The golden glow in David's eyes disappeared as he closed the drawer off. He turned to the three members standing straight. "They are looking into something even the detectivete here is not aware of. I detected a low yet sudden increase in underaged disappearance five years ago, and the trend didn't seem to decrease till now. It's most probably related to that."

The trio stayed silent. They did not doubt a thing.

"Cassius." David turned to the oldest and the burliest member of the team. "Paper."

Cassius brought out a few papers underneath his coat. Instead of giving them to David, he gave them to the tall and log haired Thompson.

Thompson brought out a pen from his pocket and pushed the papers against a metal shelf.

David turned to the blank white papers. His eyes glinted gold.

A transparent report with a picture of a teenaged boy appeared on the paper. Strands of electricity flickered around Thompson's right arm as he ran his pen over the writings and the image- copying the whole thing in seconds. In a minute, they copied more than a dozen reports.

Without a verbal order, Thompson distributed the papers amongst themselves- barring David of course.

"This is not enough," David said. "We need a record of every places the suspects have visited till now."

"But we haven't been tracking them for the past few days," the impatient Thompson retorted.

"We don't have to worry about that," David said. "They have been chauffeured around the town by the same coachman, right?"

David smirked.

"Wilbur Hanks… get me his address."