Chương 285: Chapter : 285

"The law protects the powerful, Iris. You know that better than anyone. How many nobles have been investigated and found innocent despite overwhelming evidence? The system is designed to protect people like them." Iris met her gaze without flinching.

"Then we will find another way. But we will not stoop to their level. We are not murderers. We are investigators. And the truth is the most powerful weapon we have." Ken picked his mystery novel up from the floor and looked at the cover. A detective standing over a body, holding a magnifying glass. He thought about Mr. Carrion, who had found a cure for cancer and been killed for his brilliance.

"In my book," Ken said quietly, "the detective always catches the killer. No matter how rich or powerful. No matter how many lawyers they hire." He looked up at Iris with steady eyes.

"Let's go catch some killers." Laxmi extinguished her flames with a visible effort, flexing her fingers as the fire died.

"Fine. We do it your way. But if the law fails, Iris, if the courts protect them like they always protect the rich, then we do it my way." Iris nodded once, decisively.

"First thing tomorrow morning, we visit the Benjamin Group. And we don't leave until we have answers." Outside the library windows, the sun had set completely, and the estate grounds were shrouded in darkness. But inside the room, something brighter than daylight burned in the hearts of the 13th Unit. It was the fire of justice, and no amount of corporate wealth would extinguish it.

And somewhere in the capital, in a luxurious office high above the city streets, the Vice Director of the Benjamin Group was receiving a message that would make his blood run cold. The 13th Unit had decoded Carrion's journal. They knew about Devil Flour. And they were coming.

The Benjamin Group headquarters rose from the heart of the capital's financial district like a monument to corporate arrogance. It was a towering structure of glass and steel, its gleaming facade reflecting the morning sun with an aggressiveness that seemed almost hostile. Every surface was polished to a mirror shine that hurt to look at. Security guards in crisp black uniforms stood at regular intervals along the walls, their expressions professionally blank but their eyes tracking every visitor who entered.

The Benjamin Group took its security seriously, which suggested they had something worth protecting. Or hiding. The Benjamin Group was, according to their official literature, a pharmaceutical and agricultural conglomerate dedicated to improving the quality of life for all citizens of Belmontia. According to Sayma's research, they were also the single most profitable corporation in the Empire, with annual revenues that exceeded the military budgets of several smaller nations combined.

The building's lobby was even more ostentatious than its exterior. Marble floors stretched in every direction, polished to such a high gloss that visitors could see their own reflections staring back at them from the ground. Crystal light fixtures hung from ceilings three stories high. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Expensive artwork lined the walls, each piece selected not for its beauty but for its ability to communicate wealth.

A reception desk the size of a small boat dominated the center of the space, staffed by men and women in uniforms that probably cost more than the 13th Unit's monthly food budget. The 13th Unit marched through the front doors with the confidence of people who had absolutely no patience for corporate aesthetics. Iris led the way, her violet eyes sweeping the lobby with the calculating gaze of a general surveying a battlefield she intended to conquer. Behind her, the team moved in their usual formation.

Naomi and Laxmi flanked the princess like twin pillars of barely contained violence, their weapons concealed but very much present. Sayma and Zinia followed with their notebooks and documents. Sayma and Zinia followed with their notebooks and documents, already preparing their evidence presentations with the meticulous attention of scholars who knew their work would be scrutinized by hostile eyes.

Risa brought up the rear, the pink-haired healer clutching her medical bag nervously while scanning the room with careful, watchful eyes. Ken strolled in last with his hands in his pockets, looking around the lobby with the casual curiosity of a tourist. Risa had tucked several medical tools into her coat pockets that morning, everything from emergency healing salves to diagnostic charms. She was always prepared for the worst, even when she hoped for the best.

She also carried, hidden in the lining of her coat, a small device that Ken had jokingly called the "trouble magnet." It was an early warning system that could detect hostile magical signatures within a fifty-meter radius. Given where they were going, it seemed particularly relevant today. He whistled softly at the chandelier.

"I bet that costs more than our entire estate. Including the ghosts in the attic."

"We don't have ghosts in the attic," Naomi said without turning around.

"That's what the ghosts want you to think," Ken replied cheerfully.

"Very sneaky, ghosts. It's basically their whole thing." The receptionist at the front desk watched their approach with the practiced smile of someone trained to be pleasant to everyone regardless of how threatening they looked. Her fingers hovered over a small alarm button beneath the counter.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Benjamin Group. How may I assist you today?" Iris stepped forward and withdrew a sealed letter from her coat. The letter bore the Imperial crest and was stamped with the authority of the Upper Council.

"Princess Iris Belmontia, 13th Royal Investigative Unit. We are here on official business regarding the Devil Flour investigation." The receptionist's smile flickered for just a moment, a crack in the professional facade that lasted less than a second before she recovered. The name Devil Flour had that effect on people who worked for the Benjamin Group. It was like saying a curse word in a church.

The receptionist's eyes darted to a small crystal on her desk, the kind used for internal communication, and her fingers moved toward it instinctively before she caught herself. Someone upstairs was definitely going to want to know about this.

"Of course, Your Highness. Let me contact the appropriate department. Please wait in the seating area."

"We will not wait," Iris said firmly.

"We are here to see the Vice Director. Now." The receptionist swallowed.

"The Vice Director is in a meeting, Your Highness. I can schedule an appointment for next week, if you would like to leave your card." Iris leaned forward slightly, and the temperature around her seemed to drop.

"I am a Princess of the Belmontia Empire conducting an official investigation into a capital murder. I do not leave cards. I do not make appointments. And I do not wait." The receptionist reached for her communication crystal with trembling fingers. Before she could speak, however, a voice cut across the lobby like a blade through silk. Cold, sharp, and dripping with contempt.

"Well, well. If it isn't the little failure."