System Criminal: The Capture Rewards

Chapter 4: The Third Party

"Interrogation Room One? Sounds fancy,” Darion said, his mind already racing. “Does it have better chairs? Because this bench is really doing a number on my lower back.”

As the door slid open, Darion caught the flicker of his System screen.

[ New Objective: Survive the Interrogation ]

[ Hidden Objective: Decode the Ledger ]

[ Reward: Unknown ]

“Well,” Darion whispered to himself as Keth hauled him up. “At least the plot is thickening. I was worried this was going to be a short story.”

The walk to Interrogation Room One was short, clinical, and punctuated by the heavy, rhythmic thud of tactical boots. The room itself was exactly what Darion expected: a heavy steel table bolted to the floor, two chairs that looked like instruments of torture, and a one-way mirror that pulsed with the faint hum of recording equipment.

“Sit,” Isavelle commanded, gesturing to the chair furthest from the door.

“No ‘please’? No offer of a glass of water?” Darion asked, sliding into the seat. He tried to ignore the way the red leather ledger pressed against the small of his back, hidden beneath his jacket. “I’m telling you, Isavelle, your hospitality rating is plummeting.”

Isavelle didn’t sit. She stood over him, her shadow stretching across the table like a shroud. She looked at Keth. “The wand. Now.”

Keth stepped forward, holding a high-frequency electronic scanner. He began to pass it over Darion’s body. The device emitted a steady, low hum that spiked into a sharp chirp as it passed his waist.

“Wait, wait!” Darion chirped, leaning back. “That’s just my natural magnetic personality. It’s very attractive. Ask anyone.”

“Hold him still, Keth,” Isavelle said, her voice dropping into a dangerous register.

“I’ve got him, Ma’am,” Keth muttered, pinning Darion’s shoulder to the chair.

The scanner chirped again, but not at his waist where the ledger was. It shrieked when it reached the nape of his neck, near the collar of his worn denim jacket.

Isavelle’s eyes sharpened. She reached out, her fingers surprisingly nimble as she gripped the fabric of his collar. With a sharp rip, she tore a small, circular patch of lining away.

“Hey! That’s vintage!” Darion protested, though his heart was hammering against his ribs.

Isavelle held up a tiny, translucent chip between her thumb and forefinger. It was smaller than a grain of rice, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic violet light.

“What the hell is that?” Keth asked, leaning in. “That’s not Ministry tech.”

“It’s a micro-transmitter,” Isavelle said, her gaze shifting to Darion. “A very expensive, very illegal one. This isn’t a police tracker, Keth. This is a beacon for a retrieval team.”

Darion blinked, his genuine confusion finally breaking through his mask of bravado. “Wait. A beacon? You mean someone’s tracking me? I thought I was the one doing the following here. This is a serious breach of my privacy. I’m going to need to speak to a manager.”

“Shut up, Darion,” Isavelle snapped. She crushed the chip between her fingers, and the violet light died instantly. “Who put this on you?”

“I have no idea! I’m a popular guy, Isavelle. I hug people. I’ve got a very tactile social circle,” Darion said, his mind spinning.

[ Alert: External Surveillance Detected ]

[ Source: Encrypted Uplink ]

[ Status: Compromised ]

“Isavelle,” Darion said, his voice losing its playful edge. “I think we have a problem. My... uh... gut is telling me that whoever put that chip on me didn’t just want to know where I was going for dinner.”

“Your ‘gut’?” Isavelle leaned in, her face inches from his. “You’ve been playing us, Darion. You weren't just stealing that key. You were bait.”

“Bait? Me? I’m much more of a 'main course' type of guy,” Darion tried to joke, but the lights in the room suddenly flickered.

A low, buzzing sound filled the air, coming from the speakers in the ceiling. On the wall, the digital clock froze, the numbers dissolving into a jagged mess of pixels.

“What’s going on?” Keth asked, reaching for his radio. “Control, this is Arlan. We’ve got a technical glitch in Interrogation One. Do you copy?”

The radio responded with nothing but a burst of high-pitched static that made Keth wince and pull the device away from his ear.

“They’re not going to answer, Keth,” a new voice spoke—not from the room, but from the intercom system. It was deep, modulated, and carried a tone of bored arrogance. “The Ministry’s firewall is about as sturdy as wet cardboard. It’s almost insulting, really.”

Isavelle spun around, looking at the security camera in the corner. “Who is this?”

“You can call me Jarek,” the voice replied. “And I’m currently deleting your retirement funds, Detective Arlan. Oh, and I’m also wiping every bit of data regarding a certain ‘Key of the Forgotten’ from your local servers. Don’t thank me all at once.”

“Jarek Dune,” Isavelle whispered, her face going pale. “The Syndicate’s ghost.”

“Guilty as charged, Ma’am,” Jarek said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy. I have a three-o'clock appointment to make this entire precinct go dark. Starting... now.”

The room plunged into total darkness. The hum of the ventilation died, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence.

“Don’t move!” Keth yelled, his chair scraping against the floor as he drew his weapon. “Darion, if you even breathe funny, I’m putting a hole in you!”

“I’m not breathing! I’m barely even existing right now!” Darion shouted back, though his eyes were wide. In the pitch black, his System screen was the only thing he could see, glowing a fierce, neon blue.

[ Emergency Protocol: Initiated ]

[ Objective Updated: Escape the Precinct ]

[ Pathfinding: Active ]

“Isavelle, we need to get to the backup generators,” Keth’s voice came from the dark. “If the locks on the holding cells fail, we’re going to have a riot on our hands.”

“The locks won't fail, Keth. They’re designed to stay closed during a blackout,” Isavelle’s voice was remarkably calm, though Darion could hear the underlying tension. “But the external gates won't. Jarek isn't trying to let the prisoners out. He’s trying to let someone in.”

“Wait, what?” Darion asked. “Who’s coming in? Is it the guy who gave me the chip? Because I’d really like to give him a piece of my mind. And by 'piece of my mind,' I mean I want to run away very fast.”

Suddenly, the red emergency lights flickered on, casting the room in a bloody, strobing glow. Isavelle was already at the door, her hand on the manual release.

“Keth, stay with him,” she commanded. “If he tries to leave this room, shoot him. I’m going to the security hub.”

“Ma’am, wait!” Keth started, but she was already gone, her heels clicking rapidly down the hallway.

Darion looked at Keth, who was holding a heavy-duty pistol leveled at Darion’s chest. The detective looked frayed, his tie hanging loose and sweat beading on his forehead.

“So... Keth,” Darion said softly. “Rough day at the office?”

“Shut up, Darion. Just... shut up.”

“Look, I’m just saying, Jarek Dune isn't the type to just hack a building for fun. He’s a distraction. If he’s wiping the data, it means someone is already on the premises to take the physical goods. Like, say, a rusted key and a very handsome thief.”

Keth’s eyes darted to the door, then back to Darion. “You think you’re so smart. You think this is all a game.”

“Keth, look at the screen,” Darion pointed to the small monitor on the wall that was still flickering with a feed from the external cameras.

The footage was grainy, jumping in and out of focus as Jarek continued his digital assault. But in the brief flashes of clarity, a figure could be seen standing at the main perimeter gate.

He was tall, wearing a long, black duster that billowed in the wind. He didn't have a weapon drawn; he was simply standing there, staring directly into the camera lens as if he could see through the screen and into the room where Darion sat.

“Who is that?” Keth whispered, his grip on his gun tightening.

Darion felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine. The System screen in his peripheral vision began to pulse a violent, warning red.

[ Warning: Threat Level - Catastrophic ]

[ Identification: Tovik Sern ]

[ Status: The Collector ]

“That,” Darion said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the building’s failing systems, “is the guy I’m definitely not going to stick around to meet.”

The figure on the screen, Tovik Sern, raised a hand. He didn't use a keycard or a ram. He simply touched the reinforced steel of the precinct’s main gate.

A shockwave of blue energy rippled outward from his palm, and the massive doors didn't just open—they groaned and buckled, the metal shrieking as it was torn from its hinges like paper.

“Keth,” Darion said, standing up slowly, his hands raised. “I know you have orders. But if we stay in this room, we’re both dead. That guy out there? He’s not here for a trial. He’s here to clean the slate.”

Keth looked at the monitor, then at Darion. The gun wavered. “I can't just let you go, Vexel. I’m a cop.”

“And I’m a bridge, remember? That’s what Isavelle said,” Darion stepped closer, his heart pounding. “The problem is, Tovik Sern doesn't like bridges. He likes to burn them.”

Outside in the hallway, the sound of an explosion rocked the building. Dust shook from the ceiling tiles, and the red lights flickered one last time before dying completely.

In the sudden, heavy dark, Darion felt the familiar, freezing chill of the System’s power humming in his veins.

“Ghost Step is ready in thirty seconds, Keth,” Darion whispered into the blackness. “You can either be holding a ghost, or you can help me get out of here so we can figure out what the hell is actually going on.”

A long silence followed, broken only by the distant sound of heavy, slow footsteps echoing through the precinct’s lobby.

“Twenty seconds,” Darion counted.

“If you run,” Keth’s voice came out of the dark, sounding old and tired. “If you run and I find out you’re part of this... I’ll be the one who brings you down, Darion. Not Isavelle. Not Sern. Me.”

“Deal,” Darion said. “Now, move your gun. I’m about to do something very, very illegal.”

The sound of Keth’s holster snapping shut was the most beautiful thing Darion had heard all day.

[ Ghost Step: Ready ]

“Hold on tight, Keth,” Darion grinned into the dark. “It’s about to get weird.”