Lessons and Choices

By the time the carriage headed back to the Department of Supernatural Suppression and Defense, the terrible incident was already behind them—but its echoes remained. Emma had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion, curled up on one of the seats with a thick blanket pulled over her small frame. Seeing her asleep, Charles seized the chance to speak quietly with his two colleagues.

"What's going to happen with Emma?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Sebastian stroked his chin in thought. "First we'll follow standard procedure. We'll let her stay at the division temporarily while we try to contact any remaining relatives. If none come forward… she may end up in a shelter."

He paused, lowering his voice. "Or else… we could invite her to join us. Start training while she's young so that, when she's of age, we can see what she's capable of and place her in a suitable division."

Joseph nodded in agreement. "Yes. If Emma joined our department and received proper guidance from an early age, she'd grow into a formidable member. What she's been through could be the driving force she needs."

He added more gravely, "Besides, if we let her go live a so-called 'normal' life, who's to say her hatred for supernatural powers—after losing everyone she loved—wouldn't twist into something dark? She might drift into becoming… a Hunter."

Charles frowned, catching Joseph's implication. The term "Hunter" clearly held more weight than its simple meaning.

"What do you mean by 'Hunter'?" Charles asked.

Joseph let out a slow sigh, his expression darkening. "The 'Hunters,' sometimes called the 'Purging Order,' are a group of individuals traumatized by Ascendants or supernatural powers. They've banded together to track down and kill anyone with such abilities—regardless of whether those people have done anything wrong. All that matters to them is the complete eradication of Ascendants and every last trace of their power."

"You're serious?" Charles was startled. "There's actually an organization like that? So these Hunters are another dangerous group, like the Script-Decipherers."

"Yes…" Sebastian's voice was heavy. "They believe Ascendants are a threat to humanity and must be destroyed. They're undeniably dangerous, and at times we've had to clash with them."

Charles's face hardened. 'The Hunters are nothing but vigilantes,' he thought, 'condemning others based purely on prejudice without regard for reason. They lump together the good and the bad without distinction.'

He possessed power himself. If Hunters were to target him, disregarding all the good he had done, Charles would feel deeply wronged.

Suddenly, an image of Emma flashed in his mind. Her grief from losing everything—father, mother, siblings—could easily become the seed of hatred that might lead her down a path of vengeance.

"I see..." Charles murmured. At last, he understood Joseph's concerns. Hatred could transform a good person into someone who cared nothing for others more easily than one might think.

Joseph nodded, then spoke in a gentle voice. "Ultimately, though, the choices in Emma's life will be determined by her own decisions. We can't protect and guide her forever. From now on, she'll need to think and choose her own path."

He sighed, his expression sad yet compassionate. "Even though she's far too young to bear such a heavy burden, it's unfortunate that terrible events have taken her parents and everything else from her. No matter how heartbreaking it may be, Emma must overcome this and find her own footing."

"All we can do is offer guidance and point her toward the right path, but the choice to walk that path must be hers. We can't force her heart."

Charles considered Joseph's words before nodding in agreement. He now understood that no matter how well-intentioned they might be, Emma's future was something she would have to build herself. She would determine how to live her life.

But at least today, someone needed to help heal her and guide her through these difficult times—to encourage her and dry her tears until her little heart was strong enough to move forward.

This was all Charles hoped for. He wished that someone would be a guiding light and support for Emma, helping her out of the darkness to reach for a bright future with her own hands, leading her toward the right path.

If nothing went wrong, she would grow up to be a strong, brave woman who loved justice—a compassionate guardian who would heal the innocent and protect the weak, just as they had done for her today.

The carriage continued along the road, passing by streets and people going about their lively business. Judging by the distance, it would still be some time before they reached the office. When the conversation about Emma's future ended, silence settled over the carriage, broken only by the rhythmic sound of wheels against the road. Charles looked at Emma sleeping peacefully, then thought about the mission they had just completed. He knew he needed to learn more about and better understand his own powers.

As the carriage moved slowly along winding streets, Charles decided to make good use of the remaining time. He took out two books: one with a thick, plain dark cover, the other bright and colorful, as if representing the difference between profound knowledge and ingenious technique. He opened the hefty dissertation on his lap, his eyes scanning the content with intense focus.

Every fiber of his being tried to absorb the hidden knowledge, hoping to understand his own power as much as possible. Each line in the book revealed the brain mechanisms connected to his abilities.

As he read, Charles's brows furrowed. The academic terminology and lengthy content nearly made him lose his mind, feeling constricted by the complexity. Nevertheless, he refused to give up. He tried using his power on himself to maintain concentration on the pages, discovering that his abilities related to three main aspects of brain function.

'Forcing a lapse' meant slowing down the brain's attention control momentarily, causing the target to lose focus and vigilance. It was like when he used his power against enemies, making them miss a beat and become vulnerable.

'Short-term memory disruption' involved interfering with active working memory, making the target confused and unable to recall certain details. This was similar to when he had bargained with Bartholomew, causing the man to momentarily "forget" his intention to haggle more aggressively.

'Intense concentration' was Charles's favorite aspect. It caused the brain to release chemicals that enhanced alertness and focus while filtering out distractions, directing the mind toward a single point—just as he was doing now, concentrating so deeply on reading that he forgot everything around him.

When he finished reading, Charles exhaled a long breath, trying to dispel the weariness in his head. Without delay, he picked up the other book, hoping its more interesting content would help relieve the tension in his mind.

Charles opened the Magician's Secrets as his second book, his eyes surveying content entirely different from the dissertation. Instead of explaining brain function, it focused on techniques for redirecting an audience's thinking.

One such technique was controlling attention. Magicians often used "misdirection" by drawing the audience's attention to one spot while hiding the trick's secret elsewhere. Elaborate, flashy movements often obscured the true purpose of smaller motions. Creating multiple points of interest could also divide the audience's attention, making it difficult to spot deception.

Another technique was memory control—the art of false memory. This involved implanting false recollections in the audience's mind, distorting the sequence of events until they remembered details incorrectly. A magician's suggestive words could prompt viewers to embellish stories with their own imagination.

Finally, the art of induced focus was equally important. Magicians used captivating storytelling, created rhythm, and built anticipation. Lights, colors, and music added to the intoxication—all making the audience forget to question what they were seeing.

Charles furrowed his brow. He saw the connection between these tricks and his own powers. Concepts like misdirection could make his power use more seamless. Learning the weaknesses of human perception would help him use his abilities more effectively, and techniques for capturing attention at the right moment could enhance his power's effects.

However, Charles understood the important distinction between magic tricks and special powers. Magic was merely physical technique and psychology, not directly altering brain function, whereas his power had immediate effects.

Still, there must be more to these magic lessons than met the eye, or Edward wouldn't have recommended them. Charles thought that next time he used his power, he would try incorporating physical and psychological techniques. Perhaps they might help him absorb power more rapidly.

When the carriage came to a stop, Charles looked up and saw the large building looming in the light drizzle that had unexpectedly begun to fall. They had finally reached their destination.

He closed his book, took a deep breath trying to memorize everything he had read. Sebastian picked Emma up in his arms before opening the carriage door and stepping out.

Sebastian said he would handle Emma's situation from here on. He turned to Joseph and Charles with a stern face.

"You two go home and rest. Joseph, you haven't slept at all since last night, and Charles, you haven't had enough sleep either," Sebastian said, his tone revealing genuine concern.

"I'm telling you again, don't push yourselves too hard. Get some rest before your bodies give out. I'll handle the rest."

Charles wanted to object—he wanted to further interrogate Roland, wanted to say he was still fine—but seeing Sebastian's serious demeanor, he decided to remain silent, knowing his senior colleague cared deeply. Joseph also seemed inclined to plead his case, but in the end sighed and relented.

Charles gently stroked Emma's head, saying a soft goodbye. "I'm heading off now. Get plenty of rest, okay? We'll see each other again soon."

Emma nodded obediently, though sadness still lingered in her eyes. She forced a small smile for Charles.

After entrusting Emma to Sebastian's care, Joseph and Charles went their separate ways to rest.

This mission had left them physically and emotionally exhausted, but it had also taught them valuable lessons—about using power and understanding its nature, and the tragedy that could occur if one were consumed by it.

Valuable lessons, yet painful ones.

Charles reached his lodgings and was about to unlock the door when he paused.

He tilted his head up to look at the sky, inhaling the fresh air deeply. A feeling of gratitude welled up in his throat as fatigue began to return.

...

Joseph arrived at his mansion in the early dawn. He opened the front door, weary from exhaustion. As he was about to climb the stairs to his second-floor bedroom, he heard the voices of three women talking in the sitting room.

Rebecca, his beloved wife, was conversing with Miranda, his sister, and Alice, his mother. Their conversation was filled with relaxation and concern. All three looked up at Joseph when they saw him push open the door.

Rebecca jumped up immediately upon seeing Joseph, hurrying to her husband to check his condition and expression. Her eyes were full of worry that he might be exhausted from overwork, having not returned home at all.

Alice asked her son in a gentle voice, "Why are you coming home so late? Did something happen?"

Joseph answered with a faint smile, trying not to worry his loved ones. "Don't worry, Mother. I just had an urgent assignment come up unexpectedly, which prevented me from coming home. I apologize for making everyone concerned."

Miranda looked at her brother with eyes full of care, asking him softly, "Joseph, are you overworking yourself? Your health..."

But Joseph raised his hand to interrupt his sister's words, then added in a firm tone, "Health is more important than anything, isn't it? Mother and Rebecca remind me of this often. I understand and am trying to take the best care of myself that I can."

Joseph took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm going to rest now. I'm starting to feel very sleepy."

He waved goodbye to the three women in his family, then trudged up the stairs to his bedroom, overwhelmed by fatigue that made him feel sluggish.

Through half-closed eyes, Joseph glanced around the room after shutting the door. He took off his coat, draped it over the edge of the soft bed, then sat down and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

His thoughts swirled chaotically through his mind. He thought about various matters, planning how to interrogate Roland next, and reviewing the sorrowful events of this mission.

And... Emma, the young girl who had lost everything, whom he couldn't help but worry about—whether she would survive safely in this world, a world filled with uncertainty.

He hoped Emma would guide herself on the right path, that she would grow up strong and brave, even though she was currently going through the most difficult time of her life.

Joseph pushed all these thoughts from his head, trying to shake them off. He needed to relax and rest completely. He closed his eyes, waiting for sweet dreams to visit him.

For now... he just wanted to fall asleep for a while, to gather strength to face reality tomorrow...