Chapter 65
Chapter 65: The Inheritor
“Branch Director, you can’t… You know what those people are like—no real ability but extremely arrogant. Cooperating with them will lead to problems sooner or later!”
“Enough, Arnold! There have been enough frustrating things today! I can’t decide who takes the case and who assists. Those factory owners and gang leaders in the council seats wish they could swallow me whole. Joseph has already given us enough face!”
“But this will only lead to more mistakes! In the end they’ll definitely push all the responsibility onto us, and you clearly know those are all excuses!”
Before the door was fully opened, intense arguing could already be heard seeping through the crack.
After Charlotte pushed the door open further, Funise saw a black-haired young man in an enforcement officer’s trench coat standing in front of the desk, his face red with anger as he argued with the deep purple-haired lady sitting behind the desk.
This lady had her hair in a low ponytail with neatly arranged side bangs. The buttons of her dark green agent uniform jacket were properly fastened up to the third one, revealing the clean white low-collar shirt underneath. She had rolled her sleeves up to her forearms, and her tightly furrowed brows were sharp as blades.
Her entire being radiated an aura of strict efficiency.
But Funise could clearly see she was being pressed down by some invisible force until she could barely breathe. Her deep purple eyes hid fatigue and weariness, yet she still forced herself to appear strong and authoritative.
Perhaps among everyone present, only Funise could see this.
Because she was more skilled in acting than anyone else here—she could see through disguises in expressions and demeanor at a glance.
And this lady was undoubtedly Michel Rossetti. Although there were some changes compared to several years ago, Funise wouldn’t fail to recognize her completely. The impression of this capable woman’s temperament remained vivid.
“At least not today, Enforcement Officer Arnold. Return to your work station. Roy needs your assistance—you can’t expect those rookies responsible for daily patrols to replace you.” Michel stood up, lightly tapping the desk. “If problems really do arise later, I’ll still go negotiate with Joseph. All faults and responsibilities will come from me alone—it’s not the turn of you execution-level people to worry about and bear them.”
“Branch Director… this…”
The urgency and anger in the black-haired young man named Arnold’s eyes immediately transformed into worry and embarrassment. He stared straight at Michel but couldn’t say anything.
The door, pushed halfway open, suddenly creaked.
Now both Michel and Arnold noticed that this small office had gained two new audience members eavesdropping on their argument.
Somewhat awkward—Funise felt like she and Charlotte had come at the wrong time.
But straightforward Charlotte didn’t care about any of this. As soon as she entered, she greeted Arnold: “Hi, Arnold, good afternoon. Mr. Roy is waiting for you. Why are you still here?”
Who would have thought Arnold would recoil in terror as if seeing a demon, diving to the other side of the desk to hide behind Michel. This clean-featured young man crouched down holding his head defensively, trembling all over, not even daring to lift his head to look at Charlotte.
Funise looked at Arnold, then looked up at Charlotte beside her.
This Arnold had the courage to argue with Branch Director Michel, but didn’t have the courage to look Charlotte in the eye. What kind of horrifying atrocities had Charlotte committed against this poor child in normal times?
“It’s okay, Arnold. Charlotte has already promised me she won’t beat you up anymore, and didn’t you two already apologize to each other?” Michel took the opportunity to sip her coffee.
“Some psychological trauma can’t be easily erased.” Arnold spoke righteously.
“Psychological trauma, really! Come on! Get to work! Do you have the heart to let Uncle Roy handle those idiots alone?” Charlotte stepped aside, pointing toward the door.
“What are you looking at me for? Go on.” Michel turned her head and gave Arnold a withering look.
“Fine. Please forgive my earlier rudeness, Branch Director Michel. I’m heading out to meet up with Mr. Roy.” Arnold sighed helplessly and left dejectedly.
Charlotte looked gleeful as she watched Arnold’s retreating figure.
Still at the doorway, Funise slightly moved aside to make room. Arnold saw Funise and was first surprised and stunned, then after a while scratched his head and awkwardly showed a smile like one would use to coax a child.
Funise didn’t know how to interact with this poor child who had been personally beaten by her daughter, so she simply remained silent and just nodded in acknowledgment.
After Arnold’s figure completely disappeared in the corridor, Funise began secretly struggling in her heart—
Clearly when she was still Sera, Charlotte hadn’t caused any trouble, but now that she had become “Celi” and encountered Charlotte again, she discovered that this completely unsupervised adopted daughter had a terrible track record in interpersonal relationships, nothing like what a young girl should be.
But now she was “Celi”—she couldn’t jump out and educate Charlotte as a parent or apologize to Arnold.
The once legendary and glorious but solitary Seraph-class Enforcement Officer Sera Fred was now actually troubled by her daughter’s teenage rebellion. It was truly moving.
After Arnold left, Funise entered the room and closed the door.
“What a lovely and well-behaved young lady, isn’t she?” Michel set down her cup, smiling warmly at Funise, then looked up at Charlotte. “Enforcement Officer Charlotte, I assume she’s the girl you mentioned who was rescued from the great fire. But you only told me this news this morning, and just a few hours later you’ve brought her here. Isn’t that a bit too hasty?”
“Actually, it was Celi who took the initiative to come. I hadn’t even started suggesting it then.” Charlotte touched Funise’s head. “Branch Director Michel, don’t underestimate her just because she’s still a child. Little Celi is particularly mature and understanding.”
“I’ve seen plenty of smart children, but children are children after all. There are some things they can’t handle—don’t put too much pressure on them.” Michel left her seat, walking out from behind the desk and crouching down in front of Funise to meet her eye level. “You’re called Celi, right? Escaping from such a terrible environment wasn’t easy, was it? It’s very safe here, and everyone will protect you. Rest well first—there’s no rush, no one will pressure you.”
“But little Celi says she’s prone to memory loss, so if we don’t hurry…”
“Charlotte.” Michel coldly interrupted. “Don’t impose your impatient nature on the child either. Efficiency is important, but don’t forget that you’re first and foremost a believer in Kabbalah doctrine.”
Charlotte was quite displeased but couldn’t talk back to Michel, so she could only stamp her feet and look away to sulk alone.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Michel of the Temperance Institute.” Funise folded her hands at her waist and bowed respectfully to Michel. “Please don’t be quick to blame Sister Charlotte. This interview was indeed initiated by me. I’m very clear about my situation and know exactly what questions I’ll be asked.”
Now Michel was completely stunned, staring in disbelief at this seemingly young girl before her.
Charlotte was confused too—she had never mentioned the term “interview.” This was investigative terminology that only people in their line of work would formally write in various official reports.
“Ce… Celi… who taught you these things?” But the blonde girl quickly reacted, half-kneeling down to grasp Funise’s left hand and asking in a low voice.
“It was Uncle Sera.” As Charlotte had hoped, Funise smiled and gave the most logical answer.
Immediately after, however, the girl stood on her tiptoes and leaned close to Michel’s ear, who still hadn’t recovered.
The smile faded.
Funise spoke in a voice only she and Michel could hear:
“And Mr. Sera Fred taught me far more than just this. All of his knowledge about supernatural characteristics—during the year he was imprisoned by the witches, I was his only and final student, his inheritor.”