Cop Craft – Dragnet Mirage Reloaded

Thirty minutes later, the man with the peace sign shirt, having killed Detective Rick Fury and escaped with the fairy, was found laying on the side of the road next to a dumpster, two kilometers away from the scene of the crime.

He was already dead, and there was no fairy to be found.

His body had been discovered by a police car that was patrolling the area. He had died of severe blood loss and fatal organ damage, caused by the bullets that Matoba had fired. Normally, a man with such grave wounds would have fallen dead within a mere three minutes of being shot. Despite this, he had run for two entire kilometers before dying. It was an incident that couldn’t be explained using the logic that we had here on “this side” of the world.

Soon enough, the man’s identity was revealed. He had immigrated to San Teresa two years ago, and he worked as an employee at a sex shop.

There was nothing particularly suspicious about the man’s name or occupation. The most important detail was that he had been possessed by some unknown being, exhibited inhuman strength, murdered Rick Fury, and ran off, despite being fatally injured. As far as it was known, the only beings that were capable of causing something like this were the Mildeeta (Sorcerers) of the Semani people.

Even though the man was not in control of his own body, Matoba’s shooting was nothing but an act of self-defense. There should be no reason for him to be charged with murder.

“But even then, there isn’t exactly a precedent that we should follow,” said inspector Jack Roth, who had just arrived at the scene. He was the head of the Special Vice Squad that Matoba was a part of, making him Matoba’s direct boss.

“Precedent…?” Matoba asked worriedly, taking a quick glance at Roth’s face.

Fury’s body, along with the other Filipino, had already been transported away from the scene. Matoba leaned back against the front grill of the police car, sipping from the now lukewarm cup of coffee that he held in his hands.

The Forensic Unit had already wrapped up their work and were now preparing to leave the site. One hour from now, this alley will fall into silence once again, leaving no trace of the crime that took place within it.

“What do you mean by ‘precedent’?”

“I mean that we’ve never had a case where the suspect forcibly removes his handcuffs, murders one of our officers with his bare hands, and runs for two kilometers while sustaining fatal injuries. I’ve heard many things about the ‘magic’ that the Semani are capable of using, but I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

Inspector Roth’s voice was cold and apathetic. 

Just under fifty years old, Jack Roth wasn’t particularly large-bodied or muscular. But despite his appearance, he gave off a tough, formidable aura, one that refused to waver in the presence of any enemy that he faced, no matter how powerful. His pale face showed not even the slightest hint of a smile, and his gray eyes resembled those of some weary philosopher, one that has looked through the greatest depths of human corruption. His pitch-black coat seemed to absorb the dreariness of the air that hung in the alley.

He had worked with Rick Fury for a long time, back from when they were still with the New York City Police. Many of the officers of the STPD had come from police departments from all around the world, having built up years and years of experience.

Inspector Roth didn’t intend to scold or interrogate Matoba.

“It’s sad to see him go like that.”

“I’m really sorry about this, boss.”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know about that. There must have been something I could have done.”

Matoba had known about the magic that the Semani could use to possess others. In fact, he had experienced it himself, first hand.

He had let his guard down.

“I should’ve known.”

“You couldn’t have known. Typically, right before someone is possessed, they begin to exhibit unusual behavior and speech patterns. And there weren’t any signs of that with those Filipinos, correct?”

“I guess.”

“Then I’ll repeat myself once again. It isn’t your fault.”

“But—”

“Just stop worrying about it. The law will handle the rest.”

Roth sounded as indifferent as ever, but there was a slight hint of irritation in his voice.

However, he was right. There was no point in blaming himself. No matter how many times Matoba voiced his guilt to his boss, it wouldn’t accomplish anything. His words couldn’t change the past.

“Understood. Also, I wanted to talk about the fairy, about how there’s apparently something special about her.”

“That’s what the suspect said, isn’t it?”

“Yes, he said in Farbarnian that the fairy was ‘destined to enter his possession from the very beginning.’ Furthermore, when he addressed me, he said ‘Doreena meta baderi na (You pathetic barbarian).’ I’ve never even heard the word ‘baderi’ used outside of my Farbarnian classes. None of the immigrants in this city use it, at the very least.”

The word “baderi” roughly translated to “very,” but it was an archaic word that was only ever used in formal settings. The Semanians that lived in this city would simply use the word “baada” in its place.

“Maybe the suspect is from a more educated background.”

“He is a sorcerer, so he must be more educated than the average Semanian. But even then, I still don’t understand why he chose to speak to me.”

“Maybe there isn’t any reason for his actions.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because their entire civilization is founded upon a complete lack of reason.”

Though it seemed as though Roth were calling them uncivilized savages, Matoba understood exactly what he meant. The culture of the Semani was completely different from their own. The Semani did not value the same ideals held by the humans living in this world, holding no regard for concepts such as “democracy” or “human rights,” and even the idea of “scientific reasoning” was not widely accepted among their people.

Of course, basic mathematical and scientific knowledge still existed within their civilization. They understood the concept of zero, they could perform basic trigonometry, and they were fully proficient in the field of metallurgy. However, lying at the root of their understanding of the world was an entirely different philosophy. It was one that led them to decide their day’s work based on the phase of the moon, choose their marriage partner based on the predictions of a fortune-teller, and let out fierce war cries whenever they engaged on the battlefield.

Their civilization was certainly not one that valued rationality.

However, all of these “irrational” practices of the Semani wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary for humans just a few centuries ago. In fact, when interacting with the Semani, there were times when one might think that Earth’s modern twenty-first century society was the unreasonable one.

“We have to find the suspect and his fairy,” Roth said. “I’ve informed the local police station and they’re working to search the area, but I doubt that he’ll be caught that easily. We’ll probably have better luck searching the city’s trafficking routes.”

“Right. I’ll head out soon. But first, I need to interrogate that Filipino and figure out how he got his hands on that damn fairy.”

Matoba staggered up to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his shoulders. His entire back still ached from the pain of being hurled into the wall.

“The others will handle that. Now go home and get some rest.”

“Boss, please tell me you’re joking.” 

Matoba snorted, glaring at Roth in disbelief.

“My partner, that I’ve worked with for four years, was just killed. Even if I went home right now, how the hell do you expect me to rest? Well, on second thought, I guess I’d be able to catch the re-run of ‘The X-Files’ airing tonight. But unfortunately, I absolutely despise that show. And why are they even broadcasting it in a city full of literal magic-using aliens, anyway? Is it supposed to be some kind of joke? But either way, there’s no way in hell I’m resting tonight.”

“I don’t give a damn about what show you want to watch. I’m not letting you go back to work.”

Roth’s words were firm and unmoving.

“You’ve been working since yesterday evening, for thirty hours straight now. Trying to force yourself past your limit is going to accomplish absolutely nothing. Now go home. This is an order.”

“But…”

“Submit your report by nine o’clock in the morning. Then we’ll get together and have a briefing.”

Matoba knew that there was no point in arguing back.

But it was the right decision. This was going to be a difficult case to tackle, and it wouldn’t make any sense for Matoba to waste all of his energy in just one night.

“Should I be the one to tell Amy?” Matoba asked. He had just then remembered Rick Fury’s now-widowed wife.

“No, I’ll tell—”

Roth cut off abruptly.

“…Never mind. Please deliver the news beforehand, and let her know that we will be heading over there to pick her up. I’ll sort out the rest.”

“Understood.”

“I’m sorry about all of this. But I’m counting on you.”

“No problem.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Matoba walked back to his car.

It was a 2002 Cooper S, one of the first models of the new generation of Minis that BMW had been producing. Leaning back in the driver’s seat, he turned on the engine, but his attention was caught by something that he saw sitting in the cupholder near the lever. It was the paper cup of coffee that Fury had been drinking earlier that day. It had been left unfinished.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Matoba picked up the cup and tossed it out the window.

Not in the mood to drive straight home, Matoba aimlessly wandered around the city in his car. He drove back by the scene of the crime, through Peninsula Street onto Methuselah street. It was already past two o-clock, but the entertainment district was still bustling with people.

In many ways, San Teresa’s Methuselah street was similar to Japan’s Kabukicho. There were countless bars and clubs spread as far as the eye could see. Numerous topless bars and sex shops were scattered throughout. Walking on the sidewalks was a disorderly mass of people, people, and even more people, moving in every direction possible.

It was a bustling city of neon lights that could’ve been anywhere in the world.

Swarms of words were spelled out in the air by the vividly colored billboards that hung against the night sky. The words were not just in English, but in Russian, Spanish, French, Korean, Chinese. There were some languages that Matoba couldn’t even recognize. They must have been written in Thai or Vietnamese. There were also some Arabian signs mixed in, but not even Matoba, who had lived in this city for many years, had even the slightest idea of what they meant.

Japanese words were also very common. Looking around, one could see countless signs advertising “adolt tois” or “tosty barbcew” nearby. It seemed as if someone had just sloppily copied the words off of some Japanese advertisement with very little success. The other languages must have been riddled with errors as well. The city’s diverse, jumbled mess of languages had been quite entertaining to Atsugi-raised Matoba when he first visited during the war, but now it was just another familiar sight.

But there was one thing that differentiated it from the other big cities of the world. It was the presence of Farbarnian, a language that was widely used over on “the other side.”

The most well-known Farbarnian phrase among Earthlings was “Leto Semani.” Translating to “land of the humans,” it was a phrase that referred to the world inhabited by the Semani people. It was the counterpart to the “Earth” that was home to humans on this side of the world.

However, unlike the Earth, the home of the Semani was not a planet.

The endless expanse of emptiness that Earthlings knew as “space” did not exist in the Semani world. The Semani lived on an approximately 38,000-kilometer-wide semi sphere whose entire surface was covered by vast expanses of land and ocean, much like the Earth. However, lining the edge of the world was a barrier of densely packed thunder clouds that made it impossible to advance beyond the boundaries. It was reminiscent of the world that the humans of Earth must have believed in thousands of years ago.

No one knew what lay beyond the clouds. Many times, scientists from Earth have attempted to find out by flying drones through the barrier, but their efforts have been fruitless. The drone would lose connection the moment it came in contact with the clouds.

The sun and the moon still rose in the Semani sky. However, it was unclear whether they were in orbit or fixed in place. Unmanned rockets have been shot up into the sky to investigate, but they would always break into pieces at an altitude of around 80 kilometers. The scientific reason for this breakage was unknown, but the Semanians insisted that it was to be expected because they were “rebelling against the heavens.”

Though explorers from Earth have performed extensive research on the workings of the Semani world, the data collected by their equipment has been so nonsensical and self-conflicting that there were no conclusions that could be reasonably drawn. There were many, many theories that attempted to explain the nature of Semanian space, but none of them even came close to providing a complete explanation.

The Semanian people were often amused by the futile efforts of the Earthlings to collect data about their world. Furthermore, they did not seem to express even the slightest hint of curiosity toward developments in space observation on Earth.

There were many Semanians that lived in the city of San Teresa.

Back when the dimensional “gate” first emerged, a large island mysteriously appeared in the Pacific Ocean. Known as “Kariana Island,” this land mass had originally been a peninsula in the Semani world, but it had somehow been inter-dimensionally transported onto the Earth. Eventually, humans began to settle into an old Semanian city on the island, resulting in the development of the modern city of San Teresa.

Located closest to the dimensional gate, the city came to be known as the “front door” of Earth.

Even now, driving through the city, one could spot countless Semanians dispersed throughout the crowds of pedestrians. Here, they were all referred to as “Semanians,” even though the word “Semanian” was an incredibly broad term that encompassed all humans that came from the Semani world. There were supposedly small differences in the physiological makeup of Semanians, so the scholars of Earth excitedly assigned them the scientific nomenclature of “Homo Semanica.”

But fortunately, the countless mysteries of the world could be left to be solved by the many that took pleasure in pursuing them. None of it mattered to Matoba. Right now, as a police officer, his biggest concern was with the massive crowds of people that came and went around him. The suspect could be hiding anywhere.

He exited the entertainment district. He couldn’t afford to stay wandering around forever.

There was something he had to get done.