Chapter 5-Devil of Bureaucracy

“Oh good, you're finally here. Don’t worry—I understand,” Jonathan said with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I already know that damned Bookkeeper sent you a last-minute Awakened to collect.”

Wallace’s expression hardened slightly as he replied, his tone a blend of icy calm and lingering exasperation. “Yeah, that mission was absolute hell. I’ve got all the files for Mrs. Stone’s classroom right here. I’ll read them off in order of interest—the least interesting ones first,” he said, pulling out the first file with practiced efficiency.

He opened the file to reveal a crisp photograph of a boy with medium-length cyan hair and piercing red eyes. He sported black, square-framed glasses, and the document listed his ability as Cryokinesis. According to the file, he was twelve years old. His name was Xavier Walker.

Wallace’s voice took on a clinical edge as he continued, “To be fully honest, this kid was never even on the Bookkeeper’s list. Both of his parents are researchers here. Apparently, he accidentally froze their dog to death. The moment they realized what had happened, they brought him to us. They’re nobody of importance—just busy running tests on low-level monsters. Although, I’d recommend offering them some kind of reward for dragging their son into this hellhole.”

His eyes flicked up to meet Jonathan's, a spark of challenge in his gaze.

Jonathan’s smile faltered slightly, his tone edged with irritation. “I take offense to that. I run this hellhole rather well, so be it, I’ll see to it that they get a pay increase or something.”

Wallace let out a low chuckle. “This is the first time I’ve seen a raise discussed with you that didn’t end in violence caused by your damn plants.”

Jonathan sighed, a wry smile tugging at his lips despite his annoyance. “You know, it’s not too late to change that fact.”

“As you can tell by the rarity of this case alone, this entire class is filled with peculiar circumstances. Hell, this may be one of the few Awakened in our ranks whose parents are still alive,” Wallace remarked, his tone tinged with a bitter edge.

Jonathan let out a long sigh. “That alone is a rarity in this business. I used to think we only ended up with orphans. Though if his parents work here, sooner or later that fact will catch up with the kid.”

Wallace shook his head. “Yeah, especially with all the budget cuts you've imposed,” he added, his voice laced with exasperation.

“Those cuts were necessary,” Jonathan replied, his tone resigned yet firm. “The boss demanded a reallocation of funds to his latest project, and my hands are tied.”

“Fair enough,” Wallace conceded with a soft sigh. “Nobody in this place can escape being commanded by him.”

Jonathan’s eyes lit up with a mix of curiosity and reluctant amusement. “Alright, then—read off the next file. I’m quite intrigued to see what else we’ve got in our newest recruits.”

As he leaned forward, eager to absorb every detail of the mysterious new cases, the room seemed to buzz with a quiet anticipation, punctuating the delicate balance of bureaucracy and raw supernatural power that defined their world.

The second file contained a picture of a boy with short yet messy brown hair, somber brown eyes, and caramel-colored skin. He was wearing tattered rags, and multiple injuries covered his face and arms—those visible at least. The file listed his ability as doll creation. His age was also noted to be ten years old. His name was Jacob Forester.

“I healed him the moment the recovery agents brought him to me, though his injuries were extensive—most likely the result of long-term abuse,” Wallace explained, rubbing his arm as if trying to erase the bitter memories that clung to every scar.

Jonathan’s gaze hardened with unspoken questions. “So, what happened to his parents?”

Wallace’s tone grew grim and laced with dark sarcasm. “The father has been dead for a long time. There were suspicions that the mother had something to do with it, but the case was dismissed due to lack of evidence. As for that human trash of a mother—she met a gruesome end. A monster, one that had broken loose in the area, ripped her to shreds. The agents arrived in a desperate bid to save the kid, but sadly, they weren’t in time for her.”

Jonathan leaned forward, curiosity mingling with a trace of animosity. “And how exactly did a monster get loose in the area? What kind was it?”

Wallace’s eyes darkened as he recounted the details. “It was a Nightmare—a creature that had been feeding off the family’s dreams for weeks. It seemed to grow tired of its endless banquet, and in a twisted turn, it manipulated her into strangling herself in her sleep.”

Jonathan exhaled sharply. “Damn Bookkeeper. Why would he allow a monster like that to roam free for so long?”

Wallace shrugged, his voice tinged with cynical resignation. “Obviously, he saw it coming. That man always waits until the carnage occurs before having us swoop in to rescue the child. It’s a pattern—one he repeats every time.”

Jonathan shook his head slowly, his thoughts heavy with unanswered questions. “I truly wonder what secret lies behind his future sight…”

“Tell me about this 'doll creation' ability. I don't believe we've seen it before,” Jonathan requested, his curiosity practically crackling in the air.

Wallace nodded thoughtfully. “It appears he can animate inanimate objects at will. Our preliminary tests suggest that it works best with items already resembling a humanoid form, though we need to run more tests. With proper training, this ability could have a myriad of applications.”

A gleam of excitement sparked in Jonathan's eyes. “He could be a valuable asset for stealth missions. Alright, what's next?”

Wallace opened the next file. The image revealed a boy with medium-length hair partially covering his right eye, his piercing blue gaze the focal point of the photo. Around him, multiple objects seemed to float chaotically, almost as if they were trying to escape the frame. His arms were bound, and two A.E.G.I.S. agents were pictured restraining him. The file listed his ability as telekinesis, noted that he was twelve years old, and identified him as Charles Wells.

Jonathan leaned in, his expression darkening as he studied the photo. “Why the hell is he tied up?”

Wallace sighed heavily. “He was extremely hostile when we retrieved him. It turns out he's the son of the leaders of the Black Lotus Society. We raided their base, and the agents decided it was best to take him with us.”

“Oh right, I remember hearing about that raid,” Jonathan mused, his tone turning grim. “The Black Lotus Society was involved in numerous acts of human trafficking—they were a linchpin for bigger organizations like the Ark Foundation and that cult in Japan.”

Wallace's eyes flickered with recognition. “Speaking of that cult, during the raid, our team encountered the Executioner—one of the five Cardinals of the Cult of the Infinite Gates. Currently, ranked first on our priority kill list.”

Jonathan groaned, shaking his head. “So Michello is taking another vacation in the U.S. damn, what a pain. Inform headquarters—it’s that time of the year for the Michello Insurance Plan. Hopefully, he doesn’t cause too much chaos this time. Though I should mention, that he’s no longer our top target. Due to the reveal of Nikolai’s authority-type ability, we’ve bumped him to first.”

Wallace raised an eyebrow. “How interesting. And what about… him? Are you going to tell them about Michello being in the U.S. again?”

Jonathan smirked. “I’ll pass that off to the bag-headed workaholic. For some reason, he’s obsessed with killing Michello. Odds are he’ll be too busy with his own work to track him down before Michello heads back to Japan. Anything else of note with this child?”

“As you can tell from the photo, this kid had already Awakened. Since both his parents were also Awakened, they trained him fairly well in his powers. I've already decided to put him on ability-dampening drugs until we can work out his anger issues. It will be difficult, though, since our agents did kill his parents in front of him,” Wallace sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

As Wallace finished speaking, he produced two additional files for Jonathan’s inspection—a pair of siblings whose case was as heart-wrenching as it was peculiar. He slid the first file across the desk. The image revealed a young girl with short, fiery red hair and a solitary green eye, the other having been removed. Her arms were wrapped in bandages, and her expression was one of raw terror. In the photograph, she stood closely beside her older brother—a steadfast protector who refused to let her be alone for even a moment. The file detailed her ability as Watcher and listed her age as ten. Her name was Celia Hill.

Wallace then presented the second file. The photo depicted her older brother: he, too, sported short red hair and a single green eye, with his left eye missing. His arms were also swathed in bandages, and his gaze was fierce and overprotective as he stood close to his sister. His ability was recorded as Sense Removal, a power that rendered a target incapable of utilizing one of the five senses. He was eleven years old, and his name was Theo Hill.

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Jonathan leaned forward, intrigued. “Watcher… Watcher. Didn’t the leader of Ouroboros possess a similar ability? It allows you to monitor your target anywhere in the world, provided they’ve been marked beforehand, correct?” His voice held a mixture of recollection and curiosity as he tried to piece together the exact details.

“That’s correct,” Wallace confirmed. “The utility of the Watcher ability speaks for itself—it's even employed by some of our highest-rated adversaries. As for Theo’s ability, it seems he can strip a target of one of their senses, effectively debuffing them. It’s a remarkably useful tool in the field.”

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the polished desk as he absorbed every detail. “So, where did our agents locate these two?” he inquired, his tone blending curiosity with the weight of responsibility.

A brief, anticipatory silence fell over the room, thick with the promise of unraveling yet another thread in the intricate tapestry of A.E.G.I.S.’s ever-growing roster of extraordinary—and troubled—young recruits.

Wallace’s expression turned grim as he began, “A raid was conducted against one of the Arc Foundation’s branches. We’re not entirely sure if the data has spread to the other branches, but it’s unlikely. They finally succeeded in creating an artificial Awakened. Those two are the result.” His voice dropped to a cold, measured tone. “When our team arrived at the branch, every researcher had been slain. All that remained were these two kids and a host of deformed monstrosities. Every other test subject had mutated and eventually escaped their cells, slaughtering the remaining researchers in the process.”

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed with a mix of intrigue and concern. “Understood. Make sure the data you retrieved from them reaches the boss. He’ll be fascinated by this project. Honestly, I’m not sure what could be more interesting than this case—and you still have two more files left.”

“Do you think there will be conflicts between these two and Charles?” Wallace asked, his tone laced with genuine concern as he studied the files spread across the desk.

Jonathan leaned back, his gaze thoughtful. “Most likely. The odds suggest it was his parents who sold those two into trafficking. We must keep the details of their affiliations strictly confidential—restricted to only Mia and the council. It’s best if such rumors never spread. If people learn who his parents are, Charles will likely become the target of hatred.”

Wallace nodded firmly. “Of course, sir. I’ll handle it.” His voice was steady, but beneath it lay the weight of the responsibility they bore.

With that, Wallace retrieved his second-to-last file and slid it across the desk. The image revealed a girl whose piercing crimson eyes stared out from behind a cascade of hair interwoven with white and red strands. She wore a pair of circular, broken glasses that lent her a wistful, almost haunted appearance. Draped around her shoulders was an oversized lab coat—eerily reminiscent of one Wallace wears himself. The file boldly listed her ability as the Authority of Reality. At ten years old, she was identified as Alice West.

Jonathan leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the gravity of her power. The room seemed to pulse with the promise of secrets yet to be revealed—a testament to the dangerous and unpredictable nature of their work, and the profound mysteries hidden within these young, awakened souls.

Jonathan stared at the file for a full minute, his expression slowly morphing from curiosity to disbelief before he finally spoke. “Authority? This makes her the third Authority user to join A.E.G.I.S. It's no longer just your brother and Bag-Face, is it? I can't believe it—this is incredible.”

Wallace let out a weary sigh. “That’s assuming the Bookkeeper isn’t secretly hiding an Authority-type ability. I wouldn’t be surprised,” he replied, his tone tinged with both resignation and dry humor.

Jonathan’s eyes sparkled with amazement despite the gravity of the information. “Good point. Still, this is quite extraordinary,” he smiled, a mixture of excitement and trepidation in his voice.

Before the excitement could get the better of him, Wallace interjected, “Before you get too excited, you’d better read the file in full.” He flipped the page with a practiced flick.

As Jonathan began reading Alice’s file, his face drained of color, the horror of its contents unfolding with each line. “Alice has zero control over her abilities,” he read aloud, his voice trembling slightly. “She nearly killed both Markus and me on seven separate occasions before I had to use my ring to knock her out. The constant, lethal aura she emits is enough to kill any Unawakened who comes too close. Even the slightest intrusive thought on her part can alter the world around her. There was an incident where a giant rabbit materialized behind Markus, attempting to devour him, and immediately afterward, my boots turned to stone. And that’s just the beginning.”

Jonathan’s tone dropped as he continued, “She’s been placed under incredibly strong ability-dampening drugs we have—the kind reserved for low-level inmates at Area 51. Her mental state is, frankly, in ruins. We found severe signs of abuse on her, to the extent that I had to expend almost all my energy just to remove the scars. Her true parents are unknown; she appeared one day on the doorstep of an orphanage and was taken in. Later, she was adopted by a foster family that ended up abusing her. The corpses of her adoptive parents were found at their home—her unconscious body at the scene. Their bodies were horribly disfigured; their heads had been severed, and playing cards were stuffed into their mouths. Those same cards were discovered in their stomachs, and the cause of death was ruled as suffocation.”

He paused, swallowing hard before concluding, “It’s been determined that she killed them during her Awakening, though she has no recollection of the event. Given her state, it’s been recommended that we ask the Bookkeeper to permanently erase those traumatic memories.”

Jonathan set the file down slowly, his hands trembling as the weight of the revelation sank in. The room fell into a heavy silence—a blend of disbelief, sorrow, and the stark realization of the dangerous, volatile power hidden within Alice West.

“One wrong move—one day she goes without her drugs—and we’re all finished. How lovely. There’s nothing we can do but do what we did with Markus, place seals on her to permanently limit her power. I’ll bring it up at the next meeting. For now, keep a close watch on her,” Jonathan ordered, his voice a mixture of frustration and resignation.

Wallace nodded and, after a brief pause, added, “Alright, understood. I have one last file for you to look at.”

Jonathan’s interest was piqued. “What could be greater than an Authority user?”

With deliberate care, Wallace revealed Iris’s file. The document was marked by her abilities: Pyrokinesis paired with an unknown authority-type ability. Jonathan stared at the file blankly, his mind racing as he struggled to comprehend the implications.

“Another authority ability?” Jonathan finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You and Markus found two authority-type abilities? But why does it say the authority is unknown? Shouldn’t the Bookkeeper have filled us in on these details?”

Wallace sighed heavily. “For some reason, he refused to divulge any more information—said it was too confidential. Honestly, we only figured out Iris had an authority ability because of the distinctive color of her aura during her Awakening. This whole mission was a mess. He didn’t even warn us that Nikolai would show up, or that, for some reason, Nikolai himself now wields an authority-type ability.”

Jonathan rubbed his temples as he continued, “I’ll go over these files in full later. All the other classes seem relatively normal, but it looks like Mrs. Stone’s classroom is going to be one hell of a challenge. Damn it, I’m going to have to give her a raise for all this extra work.”

“You’re always so reluctant to give raises. Honestly, I’d think you’d rather take on Invidia by yourself than grant someone a raise,” Wallace joked, his tone light despite the heaviness of the day.

Jonathan’s eyes darkened at the memory. “Don’t joke about it. That damned raid was absolute hell. The fact that we even pulled it off is utterly ridiculous,” he replied coldly.

Wallace nodded, his voice dropping to a more thoughtful tone. “You’re right. I still don’t understand why the boss was so obsessed with killing Invidia—he clearly had an ulterior motive.”

Jonathan leaned forward, his expression serious. “Wallace, I don’t fully trust the boss. If I find anything suspicious, can I count on you?”

Wallace smirked. “You’d have an easier time finding things here that aren’t suspicious than the ones that are.”

“Be serious,” Jonathan pressed, his voice low. “Among the council, I trust you the most—besides your brother and possibly Sabrina, no one else comes close.”

Wallace’s tone grew solemn. “Are you planning to do what Nikolai did?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

Jonathan shook his head resolutely. “No, this place must be fixed from the inside. I won’t abandon the people here.”

Wallace sighed, a mixture of resignation and determination in his voice. “Then I’ll work with you. I agree—the boss is planning something. I don’t know what his obsession is with the seven sins, but it’s nothing good.”

“Thank you, Wallace,” Jonathan said softly, gratitude and burden intermingling in his gaze.

Jonathan glanced at the clock and then straightened up. “Well, you should get going. Classes start tomorrow, and we still have preparations to make. Also, tell Mrs. Stone to come to my office after classes to discuss raises.”

“Alright, I will,” Wallace replied, already moving toward the door as he left Jonathan’s office, their conversation lingering in the air—a quiet alliance forged in mutual distrust and a shared resolve to fix what was broken from within.

As Wallace departed, he nearly collided with a man clutching a battered briefcase. The stranger’s movements were staggered and mechanical, as if his body were malfunctioning, and a noticeable bump marred his neck. With a slow shuffle, the man entered Jonathan's office and silently handed over the briefcase.

“Took you long enough to get here. Why are you damned zombies so inefficient?” Jonathan snapped, irritation lacing his words.

He opened the briefcase, revealing a chaotic jumble of files. The handwriting on the documents was uneven and hurried, scrawled as if in a frantic rush.

“I really need to improve you zombies—this is barely legible,” Jonathan muttered, shaking his head as he rifled through the papers.

Mid-sentence, a small mushroom sprouted from the bump on the man’s neck. Slowly, blood began to ooze from his eyes. Yet despite the grotesque transformation, the man neither flinched nor cried out. Jonathan’s gaze shifted back to the files, his curiosity growing as he murmured to himself, “Looks like your time is up. At least this data is useful. Now let’s see what our dear boss has been hiding from us.”

More mushrooms burst forth, this time crawling across the man’s body. His hair fell out in clumps as new fungi emerged beneath his scalp. His fingernails and toenails tore away as the invasive growths forced their way out. In excruciating silence, the man endured, his face a mask of horror as mushrooms pushed through his gums and his teeth began to fall out. Soon, the fungus invaded his throat, triggering desperate coughs that only summoned more growth. Within moments, the grotesque infestation spread into his lungs, and the man collapsed, lifeless, to the cold floor.

The fungal outbreak continued, covering him until his form was utterly unrecognizable. Eventually, his body melted into a thick, dark sludge that seeped into the grass, fertilizing it in a macabre cycle of decay and renewal.

Jonathan barely spared a glance at the horrific display. Instead, he methodically pulled out two particular files from the pile—one marked Project: Dark Sun, the other labeled Project: Imagine. His eyes narrowed in intrigue, and as he began scanning their contents, the violent spectacle outside became nothing more than background noise.