Chapter 398: _Responsibilties
Los Angeles Police Department, Central Division
"Detective Wayne? The witness is here to speak."
A police officer reported to a man with a buzz cut and brown jacket. The latter turned and nodded, expression bleak.
"Lead the way."
They arrived inside the interrogation room, shutting the door behind them. Sitting behind the lone desk was a huge man with features some would find intimidating at first glance.
But to the LAPD detectives, he was a familiar face.
A businessman with alleged ties to the city’s mafia and several drug cartels.
"Mr Kane." The Detective quietly moved to the seat opposite the man, lowering himself into it while never taking his eyes off him. "My partner tells me you’re here with information that can help us solve the murder of Luther Monroe."
Kane heaved.
For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything, just staring at the glass wall behind the Detective. Memories of that fateful day at the Crimson Inferno club rushed through his mind.
He’s seen his fair share of horrors in all his years. But this?
"Luther was... an associate of mine," Kane muttered carefully, thumbs rolling around each other. "So yes."
Detective Wayne arched his brow. "Associate, you say?"
"Yes."
"You’re aware he had a gun with him, right?"
Kane scoffed. "Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?"
Neither man spoke for several beats.
Then Wayne relaxed on his seat, arms folding across his chest. "Go on then..."
Kane didn’t waste another moment.
He confessed, opening up about how Luther had been sent to ’take care of someone’ in her hotel room. A well-respected attorney named Ramona Richards.
The man had apparently succeeded, producing photographs of Ramona’s bloodied body lying on the hotel room floor.
Photographs which Kane had on his phone.
Wayne’s eyes shifted from the phone, locking on Kane’s face with disgust. "You do know everything you’re saying now is far more evidence against you than what the department has—"
"I don’t care, damnit!" Kane slammed a fist on the desk, the police officer behind Wayne reaching instinctively for his taser. "T-This woman’s face has haunted my dreams since that night. L-Luther’s headless... body. The way it all happened. So fast..."
His lips trembled as he leaned closer, voice lowering to a whisper. "She was there. That evening at Crimson Inferno. Sitting casually at the bar like she wasn’t supposed to be dead." The pause that followed was filled with regret. "I thought Luther did a flimsy job. But then... he..."
The man revered as one of the city’s top businessmen buried his face in a palm, appearing to be on the brink of sobbing.
Detective Wayne glanced back at the officer.
Neither said anything.
They didn’t have to.
Because days ago they’d connected pieces from a separate mysterious event.
A room service staff member at a five-star hotel who’d lost his mouth. Although that case was handed to the Hunters Federation, they were updated.
The suspect behind it was also Ramona Richards. Who was now missing.
"We’ll continue once you’re more relaxed." The Detective pushed back his seat, standing upright. No sooner had he reached the door than he pulled out his phone. "Hello? Whoever dropped that anonymous tip might be right."
He glanced one last time at Zane before shutting the door.
"... Both cases are connected. This murder case has officially become a Hunter Level problem."
★★★★★
Morozov Private Manor
By the time everyone settled around the long dining table, the earlier awkwardness had all but disappeared beneath the warmth of home-cooked food and overlapping conversations.
Crystal glasses clinked softly now and then while the younger cousins occasionally reached across one another for dishes that were just barely out of arm’s reach, earning gentle scoldings from their parents.
Viktor had barely taken a second bite of roasted duck before Varya leaned forward, her curiosity practically spilling across the table.
"So," she began, resting her chin against her palm. "The Grand Hunters Conclave. Was it really as grand as everyone online made it look? They kept showing clips on the news, but it felt like half the interesting parts were happening off camera."
"It was bigger than the broadcasts made it seem," Viktor admitted after swallowing his food. "Representatives from almost every major Hunter organisation attended. Guild Masters, Federation officials, heads of state, delegates from dozens of countries... there wasn’t a single room where politics wasn’t being discussed."
Anfisa’s eyes brightened. "So you actually met Hunters from all over the world?"
"I did."
"Were you nervous?"
"A little." Viktor laughed under his breath. "You don’t exactly walk into a room filled with the strongest people on Earth without feeling something."
Mikhail finally looked up from his phone. "Did you meet the Pantheon?"
Viktor nodded. "A few of them."
"What were they like?"
"...Stranger than you’d imagine."
That answer immediately earned several confused looks around the table.
Viktor smiled into his glass.
"They’re powerful, yes. But they’re still people. Some are surprisingly easygoing. Others make you feel like you’ve accidentally walked into an exam you forgot to study for."
Laughter spread around the table.
Even Roman’s usually stoic face relaxed into a faint smile while little Nika asked whether the Pantheon wore capes like superheroes, prompting another round of chuckles.
The comfortable atmosphere lingered for another minute before Konstantin calmly set down his wine glass.
"Irina told us you addressed everyone during the Conclave."
The laughter gradually died away.
Viktor nodded once. "I was asked to speak on behalf of Phoenix Flight."
"You represented America admirably," Konstantin replied. "And Russia as well."
"It wasn’t anything special."
"I disagree." His uncle folded his hands together on the table. "You’ve accomplished far more than most Morozovs ever will."
Viktor shifted uncomfortably. "I simply did my job."
"And because you’ve done your job so well," Konstantin continued evenly, "it’s time you begin thinking about the future."
Silence gradually settled across the dining room.
Even Varya stopped absentmindedly twirling her fork.
"The future?" Viktor echoed.
"The Morozov family has produced exceptional Espers since the Emergence." Konstantin’s voice remained calm, almost conversational. "Your mother is among the most powerful women alive. You inherited extraordinary potential from her. One day, your children could inherit even greater gifts."
Viktor slowly lowered his cutlery onto his plate. "Since when did this family become interested in breeding programmes?"
Konstantin’s brows knitted together. "Don’t twist my words."
"Then what exactly are you saying?"
"I’m saying that powerful bloodlines are becoming increasingly rare. With everything happening around the world, individuals like you have responsibilities beyond yourselves."
Before Viktor could answer, Irina finally spoke.
"Konstantin."
Her brother turned toward her.
"I think we’ve discussed enough serious matters over dinner."
The warning in her voice wasn’t loud. But it sure was enough.
Konstantin studied his elder sister for several moments before giving a small nod and reaching once more for his wine.
Viktor, however, had already lost his appetite.
"If you’ll excuse me," he said quietly, pushing back his chair. "I... need some air."
Without waiting for anyone’s permission, he left the dining room.
Only after the sound of the closing door echoed faintly through the manor did Irina turn her gaze back toward her brother.
"That," she said, tone dripping with disappointment, "could have waited."