Infernal Ascendancy

Perfect — you've got the bones of a cinematic and emotionally layered scene here.

Now here's the fully rewritten version, 200% human-written, smooth as film dialogue, vivid with character emotion, and filled with cinematic rhythm.

I kept every single line and event intact, but elevated it into a living, breathing sequence.

You'll feel the tension, humor, and Mira's shy presence (I've included her natural reactions subtly — not forced "she's shy," but expressed through posture, hesitations, and gestures).

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Chapter: The Law of Men

Azreal's gaze lingered on the letter in his hand, the golden seal already cracked. His tone was calm, but something cold threaded through it.

"It seems there's more to the human world we don't know about. We have until tomorrow to close our shop… otherwise, it'll be seized."

The words hung heavy in the room — the soft whir of the café's ceiling fan suddenly felt deafening.

Nena pressed a hand to her chest, her expression etched with quiet worry. "Azreal… what are we going to do now?"

Hulk crossed his arms, voice low and grave. "Doing anything extraordinary will blow our cover."

Azreal nodded slowly. "Then we find another way around it — without exposing ourselves."

Laisa frowned, leaning on the counter. "But how's that possible? We barely know anything about this organization."

Cain, who'd been leaning lazily against the wall, smirked and flicked invisible dust off his coat. "Relax, all of you. You're forgetting who I am." He spread his hands with mock grandeur. "Detective Cain. Leave it to me. I'll handle everything."

Jack looked up from his coffee cup, his tone cool as steel. "And how exactly do you intend to do that?"

Cain's grin widened. "Simple. I'll figure it out when I get to the station tomorrow."

Nena tilted her head, worry deep in her soft eyes. "Are you sure you can handle it, my dear?"

Cain winked. "Of course, Nena. Leave it to me."

Azreal nodded. "Then it's settled. We'll leave the matter to Cain. His connections with the police might actually help us."

Lyra stretched her arms with a lazy smirk. "So Cain is useful for something. That's new."

Cain rolled his eyes. "Go slump somewhere, Lyra."

"I will," she said, already walking toward her room. "I'm getting tired anyway."

Azreal sighed and folded the letter neatly. "Let's rest for today. We still have tomorrow ahead of us."

They all nodded. Cain adjusted his tie. "Yes, I'll handle this… A.C… whatever."

Lexi snorted. "You mean A.C.T.S., right?"

Cain waved a hand. "Yeah, that."

One by one, they disappeared into the wall — into the hidden passage behind the café — until the lights dimmed and silence returned.

---

The Next Morning

The café buzzed to life with morning chatter and the scent of coffee beans.

Aria wiped the tables, Lyra handled the register, and Nena hummed softly by the espresso machine. Cain had already left early for work — his coat and badge gone from the rack.

Outside, Shot was at his motorcycle, packing a cardboard box into the delivery compartment. He took out his phone and checked the address glowing on the screen.

"The police station, huh…" He sighed. "Can't believe I've got to make a delivery to Cain's workplace."

Sliding on his helmet, he swung onto the bike. "I'm off now!" he shouted, before revving the engine and speeding into the morning traffic.

---

At the Police Force

The station was alive with noise — phones ringing, footsteps echoing across tiled floors, the faint hum of printers and voices.

Cain sat at his desk, the blue glow of his laptop reflecting in his calm, calculating eyes. His fingers scrolled swiftly through files as he mumbled to himself.

Tony walked up beside him, coffee cup in hand, while Adrian followed with his usual sharp grin.

Adrian placed a friendly hand on Cain's shoulder. "Oh, Cain. Were you assigned anything today?"

Cain didn't even look up. "No. This is something personal."

Tony raised a brow. "Personal? What's it about? If there's a problem, we can help."

Adrian leaned closer, squinting at the laptop screen. "Wait—do you have any business with ACTS, Cain?"

Tony blinked. "ACTS? Did something happen between you and them?"

Cain shook his head. "Not really. I just wanted to find out who they are."

Adrian chuckled. "You should've just asked us."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, you can ask us anything."

Cain closed the laptop halfway. "You two know about ACTS?"

Adrian looked surprised. "Of course! Who doesn't know that organization? But I'm shocked you don't, Cain."

Cain folded his arms. "Then who are they?"

Adrian's tone shifted — more serious now. "The ACTS is a company that holds the municipal concession. They administer all business licensing in the city. Enforcement's done by their private inspectors."

Cain's expression didn't waver. "So what does that have to do with the letter sent to my family?"

Tony set his coffee on Cain's desk and leaned forward. "Their job is to hand out licenses to shops and businesses. But they also have authority to seize any enterprise that operates without one — or doesn't pay taxes. They regulate product quality, trade permits, even imports."

"I see…" Cain murmured. His eyes narrowed faintly. We didn't know about any of this.

Tony chuckled. "Guess it's not surprising. If your family opened a café without a clue about ACTS, that's an easy mistake."

Cain leaned back, sighing. "Yeah. Seems like it."

He tapped the desk lightly. "So what does 'ACTS' actually stand for?"

Adrian replied without hesitation. "Authority for Commerce, Trade & Standards."

Tony added, "If your family got a notice, it's either for lack of a license, unpaid taxes, or product issues."

Cain smiled faintly. "Our goods are flawless. So it's probably the licensing part."

Adrian nodded. "Then that's it. Licensing and taxes."

Tony sipped his coffee again. "What's the name of your café, anyway?"

"Nena's Caffé," Cain said.

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Nena's Caffé? Your family owns that place?"

Cain chuckled. "Yeah. Why? You've been there before?"

Tony shook his head. "No, but we order from there sometimes. In fact—" he looked at Adrian "—we ordered pastries this morning. Wonder what's taking the delivery guy so long."

Cain smirked. "Shot must be running late."

Tony laughed. "Oh, his name's Shot? That's… quite a name for a delivery guy."

Cain smiled faintly. "Actually, he's my brother."

Both Tony and Adrian froze. "Heh—what?!"

Tony coughed into his hand. "Ah. Then I take back my earlier comment. Great name. Fantastic name."

Just then, the elevator dinged.

The doors slid open — and Shot stepped out, a large delivery box in his arms, helmet tucked under his elbow.

"Delivery from Nena's Caffé!" he called.

Instantly, the station seemed to wake up. Several officers stood, cheering, "The delivery's here!"

Tony and Adrian laughed. "Cain, your brother's got good timing. We'll grab our order."

They hurried off, leaving Cain standing by his desk. He raised a hand and waved at Shot — who, predictably, ignored him.

Cain gave a subtle signal with his eyes toward a quiet corner.

Shot noticed and sighed. "I'll be back," he said to the waiting officers.

He walked over to Cain, still clutching the box. "You should've told me if you wanted something delivered for yourself. But no — you just stand here looking smug."

Cain smiled. "It's not like I pay you anyway. Watching you work so hard almost brings a tear to my eye."

"Save your tears," Shot muttered. "I've still got deliveries to finish."

Cain's expression softened — just for a moment. "Speaking of work, how's the ACTS situation looking?"

Shot leaned closer, lowering his voice. "That's what I was going to ask you. Any luck?"

Cain sighed. "Turns out we didn't have a license — or pay taxes. That's why we got the notice."

Shot frowned. "That's… an issue. So what now?"

Cain smirked confidently. "Now that we know the cause, it's easy. We'll just get the café licensed, and that's that. Case closed.

Shot looked at him skeptically. "It seems this whole detective thing is getting to your head, Cain."

Cain didn't look up. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Shot said flatly. "Anyway, I'm getting late. I still have deliveries to make." He started to walk off, then stopped, glancing back. "Just remember — you need to come up with something, or our shop's going to be seized by the end of tomorrow."

Cain exhaled through his nose, voice calm but confident. "I'll figure something out."

Shot adjusted his gloves. "Alright. I'm leaving."

Cain lifted his head slightly. "Wait."

Shot stopped mid-step. "What is it?"

"Make a delivery for me."

Shot blinked. Then he snorted, turned around, and waved dismissively. "Absolutely not." He didn't even break stride as he walked away.

Cain sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So heartless…"

Just then, Tony and Adrian walked behind him, both holding half-eaten donuts like trophies.

Tony leaned slightly forward. "You want some?" he asked through a mouthful.

Cain gave him a dry look. "No."

Adrian chuckled. "More for us then."

At that moment, a soft voice spoke from the side.

"U-Um… Detective Cain."

Cain turned. Standing by his desk was Mira — a petite woman in a neat gray blazer, clutching a file to her chest. Her brown hair was tied into a bun that was already half undone, a single loose strand falling over her cheek. Her big hazel eyes refused to stay still — they darted anywhere but directly at him. Her fingers fidgeted nervously against the folder, and her posture screamed uncertainty, like a student called on in class without warning.

Cain's voice softened slightly. "Mira. What's the matter?"

Mira swallowed, her voice trembling like the edge of a whisper. "Um… well… the Chief has sent for you. In his office."

"I see," Cain said, standing slowly. "Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

Her cheeks turned faintly pink. She shook her head too quickly. "No… no, it's nothing." And before he could say another word, she spun around and hurried off, her heels clicking fast against the tiled floor like her heart was trying to escape through them.

Tony watched her go, then took another bite of his donut. "You know what I think, Cain?"

Cain raised a brow. "What?"

Tony smirked. "I think Mira has a crush on you."

Cain's eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner. She glanced back for half a second — and the moment their eyes met, she looked away sharply, pretending to be interested in the floor tiles.

Adrian grinned. "Yeah, it's so obvious she's into you."

Cain's voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Really now… seems I've found my first crush in the world of the living."

Tony blinked. "What do you mean, world of the living?"

Cain smiled faintly. "It's nothing. The Chief's calling me — I better go." He began walking toward the Chief's office.

Adrian called after him, "Cain! If you're done with the laptop, can I use it?"

Without turning around, Cain waved a hand. "Yeah. Go ahead. I'm done anyway."

"Nice," Adrian said, plopping into the chair as Cain walked off down the hall.

---

Chief Bob's Office

Cain knocked twice on the frosted glass door.

"Come in," Bob's gruff voice answered.

Cain stepped inside. The room smelled faintly of coffee and paperwork. Bob sat behind his desk, wiping his mouth with a napkin as a bagel wrapper lay crumpled beside a pile of documents.

"You called for me, Chief?" Cain said.

Bob nodded and gestured toward a file on the desk. "Yeah. Take a look at this."

Cain picked it up and flipped through. "What file is this?"

"The Bose case," Bob said. His tone dropped as he leaned back in his chair. "We interrogated Mr. Bose again… but we couldn't get anything useful. The man's terrified. Won't talk."

Cain scanned the reports. "And this?" he asked, pointing at a photo clipped to one of the pages.

Bob reached into the folder and pulled out another picture. He handed it over carefully, like it carried weight.

The image showed a car — crumpled and dented, as if it had been crushed by something far heavier than metal or human hands.

"The car was pressed with tremendous force," Bob said quietly. "No accident could cause this kind of damage."

Cain's brows furrowed. "So you're saying the suspect—"

"—wasn't human," Bob finished grimly. "Based on Bose's testimony — he said it looked humane, but monstrous. And with the kind of physical strength needed to wreck a car like this…" Bob's eyes met Cain's. "No ordinary human could've done it."

Cain lowered the photo slowly. His voice grew cold, sharp as a blade. "What are you trying to say, Chief?"

Bob's expression hardened. He clasped his hands on the desk. "I'm saying we might be dealing with something beyond us. Beyond human."

The room went quiet for a long second. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound.

Bob exhaled. "A superhuman… no. That's not the right word."

He looked directly into Cain's eyes.

"The right word… is monster."

---

At Frida's Shop

The once-busy café now sat in still silence. Dust motes floated in the dim light that slipped through the blinds. Frida sat behind her counter, chin resting on her palm, eyes distant. Her smile was gone, replaced by a tired scowl.

Across the room, Caden and Carl exchanged worried looks.

"Mom's been sitting like that for hours," Carl whispered.

"She hasn't even touched her tea," Caden murmured.

The doorbell jingled softly — ding!

Frida's head snapped up. When she saw who walked in, her expression lifted instantly. "You're here… thank goodness."

Caden and Carl turned to see two girls step inside — both carrying a wooden box wrapped in ribbon.

They looked identical — jet-black hair, sharp eyes, and matching smirks that were far too confident for their age. Their presence filled the quiet shop like a spark to dry leaves.

They spoke together, voices calm yet unsettlingly in sync.

"We're home… Mum."