At Detective Bob's Office

Cain stood quietly inside Detective Bob's office.

The room wasn't fancy — just neat and work-worn. A corkboard filled one corner, cluttered with investigation files, pinned photographs, and red strings mapping connections only Bob could decipher. A world globe rested on the table near the window, spinning slowly every time a gust of wind slipped in through the slightly cracked pane. The faint smell of coffee lingered in the air, mixed with paper and exhaustion.

Bob leaned back in his creaky chair, eyes sharp beneath the dim light. "Cain… when you brought in Mr. Bose, something about him changed completely."

His fingers tapped the armrest slowly, recalling the moment. "He was different. The man who screamed, trembled, and resisted before—suddenly he was calm, cooperative, polite. Almost… normal."

Cain stood straight, hands in his coat pockets. His calm eyes met Bob's. "Yes. You could say he changed."

Bob frowned slightly. "But what brought about that change in him? Changes don't just occur like that, Detective Cain."

Cain exhaled softly, his voice even and unbothered. "I simply assured him of protection from whoever attacked his family. The man was scared, Chief. That's all there was to it. Sometimes… all a terrified man needs is a little reassurance."

Bob's shoulders relaxed. He nodded approvingly. "Good, Detective Cain. The team needs more detectives like you."

Cain smiled faintly. "Thank you, Chief."

Bob gave a tired grin. "It's getting late. You can go home now. We'll get what we can from Mr. Bose and find those responsible for all these recent happenings."

Cain gave a light bow and walked out. The echo of his boots followed him down the corridor.

He stepped into the elevator, leaned back against the wall, and let out a long sigh.

"I finally get to go home after a while," he murmured to himself, eyes half-closed. "I can't tell how happy I am."

Ding.

The elevator doors slid shut, swallowing him in silence.

---

At Nena's Caffé

Evening draped the streets in orange and gold when Cain arrived at Nena's Caffé.

The bell on the glass door clicked open, letting in a soft breeze. Inside, the faint smell of roasted beans and vanilla filled the air. The only customer was an old woman sipping her coffee slowly, lost in thought. Aria, Lyra, and Laisa were busy wiping tables and cleaning counters, chatting softly.

Cain stepped in with a lazy grin. "I'm home."

Everyone turned to look at him.

He dropped himself onto a chair with a long sigh. "So this is what it feels like… coming home after work."

Lyra walked past him with a cleaning cloth in hand, arching a brow. "If you're back, then get yourself useful. Clean the shop."

Cain groaned. "Why should I? I just came back from work. Don't add to my workload."

Before anyone could reply, the glass door clicked open again.

Frida stepped in — her posture stiff, a polite smile fixed on her face.

Azreal and the others stopped what they were doing, while Nena walked forward with her usual gentle warmth.

"Good evening," Frida said, clasping her purse tightly.

"Evening," Nena replied, smiling.

"I just came to check up on you, since we're all neighbors and all that," Frida said. "I've been busy at my shop, so I didn't get the chance to welcome you all."

Jack, standing at the counter, stared at her with cold curiosity — like he was trying to peer into her soul.

Fredrick kept wiping tables, completely indifferent.

"Thanks for coming to check up on us," Nena said kindly. "We appreciate it. Would you like some tea or coffee?"

Frida smiled, shaking her head. "No, no need to trouble yourself. That's not why I came here."

Nena nodded. "Alright then."

"Neighbor," Cain said suddenly.

Frida turned to him. "Call me Frida. We're neighbors, after all."

Cain smirked faintly. "Right then, Mrs. Frida… you look like a lovely neighbor."

Shot, standing beside Fredrick, muttered, "Here we go again. Cain can't control himself."

Fredrick didn't even look up. "Even without Cain talking, everyone already knows why she's here."

Azreal watched quietly from the back.

Cain rose from his seat and walked closer, his voice dipping into that dangerously calm tone. "Mrs. Frida, you seem like a lovely neighbor… so tell me—why do you reek of jealousy and envy?"

Frida blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Cain!" Nena scolded, grabbing him by the ear. "Ow—!" Cain winced.

"That's no way to talk to our guest," Nena said firmly.

Frida looked utterly shocked. "Excuse me?"

Nena let go of his ear with a forced laugh. "Yes?"

Frida's tone hardened. "Are you all… a family?"

"Yes," Nena said without hesitation.

Frida's sweet expression cracked. Her voice turned sharp. "Then why did you people show up and steal all my customers?!"

Lexi smirked quietly. Ah… so that's what this is really about.

Nena kept her calm. "We didn't steal anything."

"You did!" Frida snapped. "I also have children! How do you expect me to take care of them if I don't have customers? And now you expect me to believe this nonsense about your family?"

Aria panicked. "O-of course! We're all siblings! Our… um… our mother is Nena!" she said, forcing a smile as she touched Nena's shoulder.

Everyone froze.

Frida blinked, speechless. "Nena? How can one woman give birth to so many different-looking children?"

She pointed accusingly — "White hair," she said, looking at Jack. "Black hair," at Cain. "Blue hair," at Lexi. "Gods know what else! Don't think you can fool me! You're hiding something!"

Cain shrugged. "Well, you know… genetics are unpredictable."

Jack said calmly, "We were adopted."

Shot threw his hand in the air dramatically. "Born from one womb, yet shaped by fate's crooked brush!"

Lyra sighed and yawned. "Can't believe we're arguing about this. Nena's our mom. End of story."

Hulk crossed his arms. "Mother is mother."

Frida looked at them all — bewildered, almost disturbed. "What type of circus family is this?"

Azreal broke the awkward silence. "It's getting late. Let's finish up and prepare for tomorrow."

Frida blinked, muttered to herself, "I… I'll just take my leave now," and quickly walked out, heading back to her shop next door.

Laisa exhaled. "Well, that didn't work out well."

Aria rubbed the back of her neck. "We need to come up with a better lie…"

Cain chuckled. "You really deserve an award for the best liar."

Aria frowned. "I was trying to help!"

Azreal stepped forward, calm and sincere. "It wasn't a lie. We all respect Nena like she's our mother. She is our mother."

Nena's eyes softened. She hugged Azreal warmly. The room fell quiet for a moment.

---

Meanwhile, in Frida's Shop

Frida stormed back into her shop, where her two sons — Carl and Caden — were waiting.

"Mum, what were you doing there?" Carl asked.

"Yes, Mum," Caden added. "Why did you have to go there?"

Frida grabbed both of them by their ears. "Since when do I owe either of you any explanation for what I do?"

"M-Mum! That hurts!" Caden cried.

"We were just worried!" Carl whined. "That's why we're asking!"

Frida sighed. "If you love asking questions so much, why don't you join the police force? That way you can ask questions all your life!"

Carl groaned. "Fine, Mum, we won't ask why you went there. But at least tell us—what did they say?"

She released their ears, rubbing her temples. "They're… weird. They said they were a family. And that woman with them—apparently, she's their mother."

Frida waved her hand dismissively. "Your sisters will be coming tomorrow. I have things to do." She turned and walked off.

Carl looked at Caden. "That's their mother?"

Caden squinted. "I didn't know aliens had mothers."

Carl nodded solemnly. "There's still a lot we don't know about this species of aliens."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

---

Back at Nena's Caffé

Outside, a man stood outside — dressed neatly in a deep blue uniform, cap pulled low, the faint glint of a postal badge pinned to his chest. He held a thick, black envelope in his gloved hand, the paper's surface dull and heavy, as though it carried something more than just words.

Lexi glanced up from wiping the counter and tilted her head. "Did anyone order a mail?"

Everyone in the café exchanged glances. A collective no followed, a chorus of uncertainty.

Azreal wiped his hands on a towel, curiosity tugging at his brow. He walked to the door, his steps soft against the polished floor. As he opened it, the faint scent of rain and asphalt wafted in.

The mailman didn't smile. His face was blank — professional, practiced — as he extended the envelope. "Delivery for Nena's Caffé," he said flatly. "Need you to sign here." He produced a clipboard with a practiced motion.

Azreal's gaze flicked to the black envelope. The material looked strange — not quite paper, not quite cloth. It felt… heavier. He hesitated, then signed the form, his name curling across the paper in sharp strokes.

The mailman nodded once, clipped the pen back, and turned without another word. His footsteps faded down the street until all that remained was silence — and the black envelope that suddenly felt too cold in Azreal's hands.

He walked back inside, the door clicking shut behind him.

Nena, wiping her hands on her apron, looked up from behind the counter. "What's the matter, dear?"

Azreal held the envelope up. "It's… a letter. But there's no name, no return address."

Aria leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "From who, then?"

Azreal shook his head, studying the object in his hands. "It doesn't say."

He turned it over, running his thumb across the seal. His eyes narrowed. The wax shimmered faintly under the café lights — molten gold, hardened into the sigil of a serpent biting its own tail. Encircled inside the serpent were four carved letters: A.C.T.S.

The room fell silent.

Azreal muttered, "Whoever it came from… it's from A.C.T.S."

Laisa blinked. "And who are they supposed to be?"

Nena frowned slightly, her instincts stirring. "Only one way to find out. Open it."

Azreal broke the seal. The wax cracked with a sharp snap, and he pulled out a single sheet of thick parchment — no decoration, no flourish, just heavy words printed in dark ink. He unfolded it slowly, his eyes scanning each line.

His voice was calm when he began to read, but each word carried a weight that grew heavier by the second.

"Cease and Desist — Municipal Concession Enforcement."

Cain raised an eyebrow, leaning back lazily in his chair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Azreal continued, his tone tightening. "It states that Nena's Caffé is operating without a valid Commercial Concession License."

Lexi blinked, confused. "So… it's like a license company or something?"

Aria scratched her head. "Wait—there's a license just to open a shop?

Azreal lowered the letter, his expression grim but steady. "Apparently, yes. And according to this…" — his eyes flicked back to the bottom of the page — "we have until tomorrow to close our shop. Otherwise…"

He looked up. The air in the café grew still.

"…the shop will be seized."

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