After more then three hours they finally reached somewhere - A place Alaric has never heard of.
Alaric was jaw clenched so tight that some blood was coming from his tounge.
He was acting completely normal but from inside it was a mess !.
Alaric stepped out of the obsedian board car whose dim haunting violet lights gave him a short trauma like feeling.
When he stood in the moonlight Volt was already beside him at a distance lighting a herbal cigar.
Alaric eyed him with confused expression "Who smoke herbal cigar?"
" Me maybe " Volt replied casually and walked towards the building.
The building was none other then the headquarters of the local police of argon.
The wall of police station was made up of red bricks with minor parts covered with wanted posters.
"Why they are even pasting wanted posters no one comes here " Alaric mumbled softly.
" Some people do come for some reasons" Volt answered splitting out his herbal cigar.
Volt tucked out his black shirt and walked in the headquarters through the cobblestone staircase.
Alaric followed him trying his best to not to go little far from Volt.
I hope everything goes well....God of Sun and Goddess of Nature bless and protect me....ill donate 400 Duble silver circled gold coins Alaric thought.
Alaric is not a devotee nor he is an atheist but he only prayed to God when he is in trouble.
When he finally entered the headquarters , it was completely different from what he expected.
The headquarters was vivid and calm or more accurately calm due to corruption.
Not a single officer was on duty , everyone was sitting in there offices doing there respective hobbies without any concern.
Alaric looked at some of them with disgust while ignored others.
Volt walked inside one of the offices and Alaric followed him silently.
It was more like master -slave relationship than investigator and victim or suspect relationship.
The man who was sitting in front of him was half naked only wearing his pants and tanktop.
The moment the man saw volt he immediately bowed - half naked " Accept my greetings my lord " His voice was rough and coughish.
Volt ignored him like others and sat on the chair opposite to the officers chair.
Alaric also sat beside Volt.
It was rather an bold move sitting beside an Noble especially an Aristocrat noble
Officers glared at Alaric suspiciously but didn't bow to him.
He walked to his chairs and sat comfortably " My Lord.....How can a me , an ant can help his lord ? "
"What a buttering "Alaric mumbled again slightly audible.
Only a second later a disturbing smell entered Alaric's nose.
It was a rather familiar smell , Alaric has experienced this type of smell when he was in eastern sector.
" This is a smell of umm umm it starts from R word.....Why can't i remember the word ! " Alaric thought to himself.
Volt looked at him and scoffed silently " Amnesia and it's problem.... you officer what is this rotten smell ? "
Officers cheek flushed and began to sweating, he gulped " My lord...."
Volt added " Don't worry you can tell me the truth i won't do anything "
After hearing volt's word , Officer was a little calm " My Lord actually some Child slaves were arguing with me rather harshly so..."
He pointed towards his almirah and opened it slowly.
The officer's hand trembled slightly as he gripped the handle of the heavy wooden almirah.
With a slow, rhythmic creak that set Alaric's teeth on edge, the doors swung wide.
The stench Alaric had been struggling to name surged forward like a physical blow—thick, metallic, and sweet with the scent of decay.
Inside, the cabinet was not filled with files or uniforms. Instead, it was a grisly larder of dark trophies.
Stacks of roughly severed limbs and torsos were piled haphazardly on the shelves, the flesh pale and mottled under the dim office light.
Resting at the very top, like a centerpiece, was the head of four different childrens thier tongue lolling out of a mouth frozen in a silent snarl.
The jagged edges of the cuts suggested they hadn't been made with a surgeon's precision, but with the blunt, heavy strikes of a cleaver.
"I had to... quiet them down, my Lord," the officer stammered, his eyes darting between the gruesome display and Volt's unreadable face. "The noise was disrupting the paperwork. These creatures dare to talk harshly to a officer who works day and night for others safety. "
Alaric felt his stomach lurch. The "R" word he had been searching for hit him with the force of a tidal wave: Rotten.
He looked at the officer—half-naked, sweating, and bowing like a servant—and then at the pile of remains.
The casual brutality of the scene made the "calm" atmosphere of the headquarters feel like a suffocating shroud. He risked a glance at Volt, wondering if the Aristocrat would be revolted or if this was just another Tuesday in the corrupted heart of Argon.
Alaric didn't just feel sick; he felt a fundamental shift in his reality. The "R" word—Rotten—wasn't just about the meat in the cupboard; it was the man standing before them, the building they were in, and the very air he was breathing.
His hand flew to his mouth, his fingers digging into his cheeks as he fought the urge to heave.
His prayer to the God of Sun felt hollow now; what light could reach a place where children were filed away like discarded paperwork? He looked at the officer, not with the disgust he'd felt earlier, but with a paralyzing, primal fear.
This wasn't a man; it was a monster wearing a tank top.
Volt, however, didn't flinch. He didn't cover his nose or recoil. He leaned forward slightly, the dim violet light of the office catching the sharp angles of his face.
He looked at the severed heads with the same clinical interest one might use to inspect a flawed piece of jewelry.
"Paperwork," Volt repeated, his voice smooth and terrifyingly level. He flicked a stray ash from his sleeve. "You killed the labor because they were loud? That is remarkably inefficient, Officer. A dead slave produces no value, and a rotting one invites disease."
The officer's face paled further. He had expected a reprimand for the mess, perhaps, but Volt's cold logic was more terrifying than rage.
"I... I apologize, My Lord! I will have the janitor scrub the shelves immediately!" the officer stammered, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the gore-stained floor.
Volt stood up, the movement fluid and predatory. He turned his gaze toward Alaric, who was trembling so violently his teeth were clicking. Volt's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something amusement or perhaps mild annoyance crossing his features.
"Looks like someone feeling pity ," Volt said coldly." We don't have time for this thing...do you understand we are here for a 'happy' conversation and let's do that , i don't have time to spend on a slave funeral. "
He turned back to the officer, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a blade against the throat. "Now, close that pathetic pantry and tell me what I want to know before I decide you're being too loud as well."