Chapter 310: In Custody
The CIU building was built like it expected its guests to disagree with custody.
Reinforced walls. Reinforced windows. Reinforced doors. Steel layered beneath stone. Mana circuits crawling through the corners like glowing veins. Even the waiting corridor had enough embedded suppression arrays to make ordinary mages sweat. Outside, Kael had noticed several dozen guards spread around the building, some uniformed, some not, and at least a handful of climbers trying to look casual while failing because their hands never drifted too far from their weapons.
Inside was worse.
Every hallway had cameras. Every checkpoint had scanners. Every door looked heavy enough to stop a truck, or at least make the truck regret trying. The CIU did not handle ordinary crime. It handled climbers, and climbers were the sort of people who could turn a normal police station into renovation debris if someone forgot manners.
Kael understood the caution.
He just did not enjoy being the reason for it.
Before they let him into the interrogation wing, two agents stopped him near a security station. One held a pair of mana restraints. Another looked at the metal rings around Kael’s wrists and ankles with immediate suspicion.
"We’ll need to remove those."
Kael glanced down at the arm rings.
"Trust me," he said, "you don’t want to remove those."
The nearer agent’s jaw tightened with the kind of defiance men sometimes borrowed from uniforms. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"They’re basically fetters. If I remove them..."
"Like training weights?" the agent asked.
"Yeah."
"This isn’t the eighties," the man said. "Why are you using training weights?"
"My teacher said so."
The agent stared at him. "Your teacher."
"Very persuasive man."
"They look like they could be used as weapons," the agent said. "We’ll have to remove them."
Kael shrugged.
The agent took the shrug as agreement and nodded to another officer.
The second man stepped in with a tool, found the locking mechanism on the first ring, and opened it.
The ring fell.
It did not clatter.
It dropped like judgment.
The steel-sheeted floor dented inward with a violent crunch as the ring buried itself halfway into the plating, folding metal around it as if the floor had been made of clay dough. The agent who had removed it went perfectly still. His boot was less than an inch away from the impact point.
Everyone looked down.
No one spoke for a moment.
The first agent swallowed. His earlier defiance looked less comfortable now. "You know what? You can keep the damn thing. If it’s that heavy, it’s better you don’t remove it for our safety."
Kael bent, picked up the ring with one hand, and locked it back around his wrist.
"Thanks," Kael said.
Another officer looked at the mana cuffs, then at Kael’s forearms. "Would the cuffs even fit those?"
Kael lifted his hands slightly. "How about I promise I won’t run away or resist in any way?"
The agents exchanged looks.
One of them sighed. "Just let him inside the room. If he wanted to leave..." He glanced at the dented floor. "No. Let’s not think about that." Then he pointed at Kael. "We do have several A-Class climbers on standby, so don’t make our job harder than it needs to be, man."
"Don’t worry about it," Kael said. "I’ll be cooperative."
"Good. It’s always awkward trying to detain climbers. They have too much pride."
Kael understood that more than he wanted to admit.
He had been confrontational with his master too. Then a few punches later, and after waking up from the educational experience of being beaten into humility, he had become much more docile. Not obedient, exactly. The Fist King had never managed that. But Kael had learned the practical value of not picking every fight simply because he could.
The cops could not force him if he truly decided otherwise.
But cooperating was less hassle.
For now.
They led him into the interrogation room.
It was colder than the hallway, plain in that deliberate way official rooms became when they wanted people to feel observed rather than comfortable. A steel table sat in the center. Four chairs. Several cameras mounted in different corners. A two-way mirror took up most of one wall. Mana restraints were built into the table, though no one tried to attach them after the ring incident. The air smelled faintly of cleaner, old tension, and recycled fear.
Two detectives waited inside with files.
Kael sat.
The chair creaked.
Both detectives noticed.
Neither commented.
One of them opened the file in front of him. He was middle-aged, tired around the eyes, and carried himself like someone who had spent enough years around climbers to hate theatrics but expect them anyway. The second stood near the wall, arms crossed, watching Kael more than the papers.
"So," the seated detective said. "Kael Ardent. Tell me a bit about yourself."
"Gotta wait for the lawyer," Kael said.
The detective sighed as if disappointed by a child. "Only guilty people ask for a lawyer."
"And only idiots don’t," Kael replied.
The standing detective’s mouth twitched.
The seated one looked at him.
The twitch vanished.
"We’ll wait for him then," the detective said.
They did not have to wait long.
A knock came at the door, followed immediately by a man entering before anyone inside finished granting permission. He wore a suit more expensive than Kael’s rent, and he carried the expression of someone who billed by the hour and enjoyed making that fact everyone else’s problem.
"All and anything my client has said before I entered this room is inadmissible in court and an infringement of his rights," the lawyer said.
The seated detective leaned back. "He didn’t say anything though."
"Excellent. Let us keep that pattern."
The detective stared at him, then looked to the cameras. "Alright. Get that camera rolling and let’s start."
The lawyer took the chair beside Kael and leaned close enough to speak softly. "I am with the Association’s legal department. Do not volunteer information. Do not answer speculative questions. Do not let them rush you. If I tell you to stop speaking, stop speaking."
Kael nodded once. "Got it."
The lawyer studied his face for half a second. "Also, impressive test results."
"Thanks."
"Not relevant. But impressive."
The detective cleared his throat. "Now then. Tell me, who are you?"