Two in the morning. Through the alleyways of a residential neighborhood, a hooded figure runs, fleeing from someone.

  The pursuer is right behind him. A tall boy with brown hair, wearing an elegant blazer, holds a sword in his right hand, its blade glowing with an intense blue light. A hands-free earpiece is attached in his right ear.

  The hooded figure runs as fast as he can, reaching the end of the alley. However, before he can escape, a black hoverbike with red flames slides into their path. Its rider is a boy with messy brown hair, his features similar to those of the swordsman. He wears a black trench coat and also has an earpiece in his ear.

  “Stop. You’re surrounded,” says the boy on the bike as he draws a pistol from his belt and aims it at the hooded figure.

  The suspect glances back to look at the other boy, then checks the width of the alley. It’s barely three meters wide, making an escape along the ground nearly impossible.

  “Don’t do it.” The boy tightens his index finger on the trigger.

  The hooded figure bends his legs and leaps onto one of the walls with catlike agility. Then he jumps to the opposite wall, back again, and keep climbing until he reachs the rooftops.

  “He got away, Andrew,” says the swordsman, staring up in disbelief.

  “I know, Axel. We underestimated that guy.” Andrew presses his earpiece to send a message. “Lewis, LENA. He escaped across the rooftops. Can you track him?”

  “We’re on it,” a female voice replies.

  On the edge of a three-story building, a brown-haired boy wearing an elegant hat scans the area through the scope of a sniper rifle. His expression is completely serious. Like his two teammates—and brothers—he shares similar features and wears an earpiece for communication.

  “Thirty degrees to your right, Lewis,” the female voice says again.

  “I’ve got him, LENA.” The boy shifts his rifle to aim. From a distance of fifty meters, he can see the suspect running, thanks to the weapon’s night vision. “Preparing to neutralize.”

  “There’s no time for protocol. Shoot, or he’ll get away,” Andrew says from the other end of the line.

  “Always so impatient.” Lewis pulls the trigger, and instead of a bullet, a red laser beam shoots out of the barrel, racing forward and slamming into the ground just a few meters in front of the target.

  The hooded figure sees the beam strike the ground ahead and halts for a second. However, he quickly resumes running.

  “You leave me no choice.” Lewis pulls the trigger several times, firing a burst of bright laser beams in quick succession, alternating between different heights.

  The hooded figure keeps running, and when he sees the beams closing in, he leaps and performs several acrobatic maneuvers, elegantly dodging them. As he’s about to reach the edge, Axel—the boy with the sword—suddenly appears and tells him to stop.

  “Don’t make more trouble for yourself.” Axel points his glowing sword.

  “Why are you keeping me alive?” the subject asks, bracing himself to dodge another possible laser beam.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” Andrew—the boy in the trench coat—also emerges at the edge of the rooftop, aiming at his target with twin pistols. “We were ordered to capture you alive. And what was with all those unnecessary moves? Showing off your species’ skills?”

  The subject removes his hood, revealing the head of a young cat with white fur and orange patches.

  “We anthropomorphs have greater physical capabilities than you humans.” The subject clenches his fists, which begin to emit and become covered in a faint blue light. “Don’t think too highly of yourselves just because you came first.”

  “Do you really want more trouble?” Axel asks.

  The cat boy charges toward Axel and throws a punch. The swordsman raises his weapon like a shield and blocks the blow. The clash generates a small explosion of light and energy. The cat boy jumps back slightly and attacks with more punches, which Axel continues to block.

  Andrew steps back a couple of paces and aims both pistols at once. He pulls the triggers simultaneously, and a pair of parallel red laser beams fire from his weapons.

  The cat boy has no time to dodge and is hit in the abdomen. The pain feels like being hit by a rock traveling at high speed. Next comes dizziness and confusion, as if his nervous system has been disrupted. His clothes remain unscathed, without a single burn mark.

  Weakened by the effect of the beams, the boy drops to his knees.

  “I’ll sue you,” he says weakly. “I’ll sue you for excessive force.”

  “Don’t worry,” Axel says. “You attacked first, and there are security cameras to prove it.”

  “And besides,” Andrew adds, “we’re not cops. We’re night detectives.”

  Two thirty in the morning. A black van driven by Lewis pulls up in front of a single-story house in a residential neighborhood. Outside, an adult cat woman with white fur and orange patches waits patiently on the porch. The van’s rear doors open, and Andrew, Axel, and the cat boy step out. The young anthropomorph can’t bring himself to look forward, keeping his eyes turned to the side with a sulky pout.

  “Hi, Mom,” the young anthropomorph says.

  The woman walks up to him, smiling, and pinches his cat ear between her fingers, giving it a sharp tug and drawing the second cry of pain of the night from him.

  “How many times have I told you not to go out in the middle of the night?” the adult anthropomorph says, still smiling.

  “Staying home is boring…” The cat boy grits his teeth as his mother pulls harder on his ear.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t call the police, or they could’ve taken you to juvenile detention.” The cat woman looks at the three boys with a smile. “Thank you for bringing this troublemaker back. Not everyone would have agreed to do it.”

  “It’s our specialty—handling annoying cases,” Andrew says. “If he runs off again, just give us a call, and we’ll take care of it with the same level of intensity.”

  A chill runs down the cat boy’s spine, a feeling of dread creeping up on him. The woman pulls an envelope from her pocket and hands it to the boy in the trench coat.

  “Thanks again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a lot I need to discuss with my son.”

  “The Vance Night Agency, always at your service,” Axel says, and together with Andrew, he climbs back into the van.

  Three thirty in the morning. The boys’ van brakes to a stop in front of a three-story building in a middle-class neighborhood. The first floor has nothing but a metal door protecting a garage. A stairway leads up to the second floor.

  The garage door opens automatically. Axel and Andrew get out and head upstairs, while Lewis parks the vehicle. The boy in the trench coat places his index finger on a sensor near the door handle, allowing it to read his fingerprint. A beep and a green light confirm that the lock has been disengaged.

  The second floor consists of a spacious living room and, beside it, a dining area with nothing more than a table and three chairs. In the living room, there are three black leather sofas, each with a single cushion. In the center sits a round glass table, and embedded at its center is a small lens, surrounded by several scattered sheets of paper. To one side of the room is a small office with a swivel chair and a modest desk that holds nothing but a lamp. On the far wall, a set of stairs leads up to the third floor, where the bedrooms are located. There are also two doors that connect to the bathroom and the kitchen.

  Axel and Andrew both drop onto sofas. The former rests his head on the cushion and closes his eyes. He doesn’t look tired, but he never minds taking a nap. The other boy also leans back, places his head on a cushion, and starts checking his phone.

  The lens of the glass table lights up and projects a hologram upward: a female figure around thirty years old, with long brown hair. Her features resemble those of the three brothers. She crosses her arms.

  “Aren’t you going to rest, Andrew?” she asks the boy who still hasn’t taken off his trench coat. “We’ve already had three cases tonight, and you haven’t stopped staring at your phone.”

  “I don’t need it, LENA. I always have energy for any mission at night—just like you.”

  “But I, your older sister, am an AI…”

  The door leading to the kitchen opens, and Lewis steps out. The first thing he does is sit on the remaining sofa, also looking at his phone and opening a spreadsheet.

  “Another successful mission.” Lewis takes off his hat and sets it beside him. “Good job, team. The money is more than enough to get us through the month.”

  “You smell like oil,” Andrew says. “We need to clean the garage.”

  “I still think connecting the kitchen to the garage was a bad design choice,” LENA says.

  “Blame the people who built the place, not Dad for buying it.”

  “Can we buy some junk food?” Axel asks without opening his eyes.

  “Did you already spend your share of the payment?” Andrew asks with genuine curiosity.

  “My hunger is hard to satisfy.”

  “You’ll have to wait until next month,” Lewis says. “We helped an elf get home safely and a dwarf fix his car’s alarm system. The day after tomorrow we have a job from a draconid who needs escorts and is too shy to ask the cops. There’s no shortage of work.”

  “In this city, we live alongside magical creatures who ask for ridiculous things the cops don’t want to deal with.” Andrew starts watching viral videos online. “Almost every night is like this. Dad really was a visionary when he chose this business.”

  Lewis looks at the empty office, his expression serious.

  “Another night without any clues about what really happened.”

  His two younger brothers also fall silent. After every successful mission, it’s impossible not to think about it when they see the space that used to be occupied by paperwork and office duties.

  “Something will turn up,” LENA says. “No mystery lasts forever in a time like this.”

  “In the meantime, we have to carry on his legacy,” Andrew says, stopping the viral videos and switching to a fighting video game, “and honor everything he left us. His business, his vehicles, his clothes… and some of his debts, too.”

  Axel nods several times, his eyes still closed.

  “Alright. Then we can—”

  Lewis is interrupted by the sound of the agency’s doorbell. The distinctive chime of a bell, signaling that someone is at the door.

  LENA makes a gesture that deploys a holographic screen beside her, displaying the feed from the front entrance’s security camera. The three brothers focus their attention on it. At the door, a hooded person presses the doorbell again.

  “Does everyone like dressing like that in the middle of the night?” Axel asks.

  “He’s probably not a prankster,” Lewis says. “If he were, he would’ve run off by now. Hopefully it’s a job.”

  “You three just got back from a job,” LENA says. “Are you sure?”

  “I told you—before dawn, we always have energy,” Andrew says.

  Lewis walks over and opens the door.

  “Vance Night Agency. How can we help you?”

  “I… I have a job,” the young man says, hesitating.

  “Go ahead.” Lewis steps aside to let him in.

  Axel stands up to free a sofa and motions for the young man to sit. Then he heads toward the kitchen.

  “Tell us what we’re good at—or why we were your last option,” Andrew says, finally looking up from his phone.

  “We’ll take the job no matter what it is, as long as it’s legal,” LENA adds.

  The young man, somewhat surprised by the AI’s autonomy, sits down and looks at the floor. He removes his hood, revealing the face of a person with tired features.

  “See… I want you to recover my pet robot.”

  He falls silent, waiting for a negative reaction that never comes.

  “Where did you see it last?” Lewis asks. “We can set up a perimeter.”

  “I’ll handle that,” LENA says.

  “Wait—aren’t you upset about such a ridiculous request?”

  “We’re an agency with the motto of doing whatever we’re asked during the night or early morning,” Axel says as he returns from the kitchen carrying a tray with a cup of tea, which he sets on the table near the young man. “We’ve been hired for even more weirder jobs. Once we helped a group of fairies trim their garden because they were terrified of the bugs there.”

  “I-I-I understand,” the young man says, taking the steaming cup and sipping it.

  “So, any clues about where you lost your robot?” Andrew asks.

  “Yes—and I also have a suspicion about who took it.”

  “Go on.”

  The brothers’ interest grows.

  “I work for a company that designs and manufactures companion robots. One of the prototypes I designed was stolen by a criminal gang we’ve been suspecting for weeks.”

  “A criminal gang?” Lewis asks, and LENA immediately begins querying public databases.

  “They haven’t just stolen from customers who bought our products. They’ve also targeted the workers who design the companion robots. Building one to meet consumer demands is expensive, and the components are usually high-end.”

  “A perfect target for micro-component smugglers,” Andrew comments. “But why are you so sure it was them?”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “The model they stole had a disguised tracker. Using it, we triangulated the location where the robots are dismantled.”

  “That’s information important enough to take straight to the police,” the AI says, still searching her databases for anything related to illegal component trading.

  “We considered it, but we’re afraid of drawing too much attention and making the smugglers flee. That’s why I came to you.”

  “We’re flattered,” Axel says, shrugging casually, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  “Let’s move,” Lewis says. “Dawn is coming, and it’s better to catch them off guard.”

  “You’ll have to come with us, boy,” Andrew says as he stands up. “We don’t want to grab the wrong robot.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask for an advance payment? Dangerous missions usually require one.” The young man hurriedly finishes his tea.

  “It’s one of our rules,” Axel says. “We don’t take payment until the job is done. Besides, we’re terrible at managing advance payments.”

  “I see…”

  “Let’s go,” LENA says in an authoritative tone.

  Four thirty in the morning. The Vance brothers’ van cruises along one of the highways near the city center. Billboards and neon lights decorate the massive skyscrapers owned by global companies and brands, keeping the city alive at all hours. That’s the typical scene in areas near downtown. However, in nearby zones like residential districts, aside from a few businesses that stay open twenty-four hours a day, only the streetlights remain as a sign of activity on the streets.

  “Stop on the next street, Lewis,” LENA says, her avatar projected on the vehicle’s auxiliary display. “If you go any farther, they might detect the van.”

  The oldest of the Vance brothers parks near a corner. The three male members of the agency get out of the vehicle and head to the back, where their weapons and the hoverbike are stored.

  “Too bad we can’t use it for this job,” Andrew says with disappointment as he grabs his pistols and slips them into the holsters on his belt.

  Axel takes his sword—which, without its signature glow, looks like an ordinary weapon—and pulls on a pair of leather gloves. Lewis grabs his long-range rifle and straps it across his back. On his right arm, he fastens a bracelet that doubles as a digital watch.

  “Wait here. And don’t try to steal the van. LENA has a very dangerous security system.”

  “Don’t make me use my electrocution system,” the AI adds.

  “I would never do that.” The young man swallows nervously.

  Lewis, Axel, and Andrew—hands-free earpieces already in place and phones tucked into their pockets—move stealthily toward a corner. In the next alley lies the entrance to the underground facility they’re looking for. The three of them head toward it, with Lewis peeking out first. Two adult men are guarding the entrance.

  “They look like regular humans,” Axel says.

  “That’s good.” Andrew steps out of hiding and walks toward the guards. “Excuse me.”

  The two guards immediately react, each drawing a pistol and aiming it at the youngest of the Vance brothers. Andrew raises his hands.

  “Is it true that micro-components are sold here? I’m interested in buying at a more affordable price.”

  “Who told you that?” one of the men asks, surprised.

  “I don’t need to hear anything else.” With a triumphant smile, Andrew flicks back the lower part of his trench coat and draws both pistols in a swift motion.

  The two men fire, and the Vance boy ducks at lightning speed, the laser shots passing over his head. Immediately after, Andrew fires back—one red beam from each pistol—striking both men in the abdomen.

  The targets feel a jolt of powerful energy as their bodies lock up. Unable to stay on their feet, they drop to their knees in pain.

  “Not used to taking electromagnetic pulses?” Andrew now looks surprised. “A guard should be able to withstand at least a couple. Guess you’re rookies.”

  Lewis and Axel emerge from their hiding spots with their weapons ready.

  “We need to get inside,” the oldest brother says. “We’ve probably drawn attention already—”

  Axel raises a hand, signaling for silence. Lewis and Andrew feel vibrations beneath their feet—something large and heavy approaching.

  The door the guards were protecting swings open, and a figure steps out: over two meters tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, with rough features and, most striking of all—though not all that unusual here—green skin. In his hand, he carries a wide-bladed sword.

  “What was that noise?!” he demands impatiently, immediately spotting the three armed boys. “Who are you?!”

  “An orc? No wonder that guy was scared,” Andrew says, hesitating to fire. A few shots won’t be enough to immobilize a creature with such extreme physical resistance.

  “Intruders…” the orc mutters, raising his sword and swinging it at the youngest Vance.

  Axel rushes in and shoves Andrew out of the way, then brings up his own sword to block the strike. The clash of metal sends a deep, echoing boom through the alley.

  “Go on ahead. I’ll handle this,” Axel says, straining as he holds back the orc’s raw strength.

  “Moving,” Lewis replies, sprinting into the hideout. He doesn’t doubt his younger brother’s abilities—when it comes to brute force, Axel is the right one for the job.

  Andrew gets up and follows him moments later. The orc turns to look at them but doesn’t give chase—he needs to deal with the nuisance in front of him first.

  “A human trying to challenge my strength. You are—”

  “Whatever,” Axel cuts him off. “Someone from another race is always bragging about being stronger than humans, and it always ends the same way. Let’s finish this.”

  “I’ve scanned the perimeter of this area,” LENA says through Lewis and Andrew’s earpieces. “It’s an underground space that used to be used as a warehouse. I’m accessing the cameras now.”

  The two brothers reach a completely dark section. Both tap a button on their earpieces, activating the flashlight function and casting some light around them. They notice the area is packed with crates and containers. The air reeks of rust and dampness, and the floor feels rough, as if it hadn’t been maintained in centuries. They suspect the stolen goods are stored inside those boxes.

  “There must be a fortune stockpiled here,” Andrew says, noticing that some of the crates nearly reach the ceiling, almost ten meters high.

  “Cameras hacked.”

  “Any hostiles?” Lewis asks.

  “Too many. Right now, they’re preparing to ambush you from above.”

  The Vance brothers look up and see several silhouettes leaping down from atop the containers to the floor. None of them are taller than a meter and a half, and each one holds a sharp-looking knife, about thirty centimeters long, gleaming in the dim light.

  “You weren’t stupid enough to come unarmed,” one of the figures says, snapping his fingers.

  The lights in the underground depot flicker on, momentarily blinding the Vances as they adjust to the sudden brightness. When their vision clears, they realize they’re surrounded by a group of ten green-skinned goblins, dressed in dirty, worn coveralls. All of them wear irritated expressions.

  "Goblins, huh?" Andrew says with a smirk. "This really doesn’t do your race’s public image any favors.”

  “We don’t care,” one of the attackers replies. “We have to eliminate you now that you’ve found our hideout.”

  “No offense, but everyone already knows about your crimes. You should really check whether the stuff you steal has trackers. We found this place in a matter of minutes.”

  The goblins ready their knives, glowing with an eerie blue light, and advance toward the two boys, their footsteps echoing in the silence.

  “LENA, any other threats?” Lewis asks as he adjusts the rifle on his back and presses a button on the wrist-bracelet on his right arm.

  “I’m still checking the cameras. For now, those goblins and the orc at the entrance are the only threats.”

  “Then this will be easier than I thought,” Andrew says, a grin crossing his face as he presses a button on the grips of both his pistols.

  At the entrance to the underground depot, another clash of metal echoes through the space. Axel and the orc strike each other’s weapons again and step back to similar distances. This time, however, it’s the human boy who staggers farther, a grimace of pain crossing his face. The orc closes in, launching a series of slashes and thrusts.

  Axel blocks, gripping his sword with both hands—one on the hilt and the other on the blade for better control. His enemy’s blows are powerful, but they’re nothing more than brute force. With a quick glance, Axel has already estimated the speed of the orc’s attacks.

  The orc swings in a vertical strike. Axel shifts just enough to the side to evade it. Almost simultaneously, he raises his sword and delivers a horizontal cut across his opponent’s chest. The blade barely tears into the orc’s tough skin. The creature reels, feeling dizziness, poor coordination, and a loss of balance—at least for a few seconds. After a moment, his expression returns to normal.

  “A cut like that won’t get past an orc’s resistance.”

  The orc’s hand lights up with a blue glow that seems to appear out of nowhere. With it, he throws a punch at the boy.

  “Again…” Axel blocks with his sword, but the impact sends him flying backward, knocking him to the ground. The sensation is like being hit by a wrecking ball.

  “Now you’ll see my true strength.” The orc ignites his other hand as well.

  “Digital magic…” Axel mutters.

  Inside the depot, the ten goblins surrounding the two boys attack simultaneously, aiming to stab them with their knives. From the grips of Andrew’s pistols, two blades of light extend, and the barrels bend ninety degrees. Andrew shifts his grip so that the light blades point upward.

  The first goblin tries to slash at the younger Vance, but Andrew intercepts with his right weapon. The goblin feels as if something solid is blocking him.

  “My pistols aren’t just for shooting,” Andrew says, overpowering the goblin and pushing him back. He moves in, striking with both light blades at once.

  The goblin feels as if a scorching blade is cutting through him, even though the blades are intangible. His body feels heavy, and he collapses face down on the floor.

  “Solid-energy weapons emit electromagnetic pulses that affect the target’s nervous system. It’s similar to being hit by a laser beam, only much stronger,” Andrew explains.

  Lewis watches as three goblins approach him and raises the bracelet on his wrist, which glows with a blue light. A circular energy field extends outward, reaching two meters in diameter.

  The goblins try to get through it, but the field repels them like a concrete wall. They also feel as if an invisible force is pushing against them.

  “Solid energy works for defense too,” Lewis says. “Especially against other energy-based weapons.”

  The remaining goblins attempt to breach the force field with their knives. Their efforts fail, and they pause, not wanting to waste energy. They reconsider before attacking the two boys.

  “Attack from a distance,” one goblin orders, stretching out his arm with an open hand.

  “You’re really going to use that? It’ll be less effective,” Andrew remarks.

  “Shut up!” the goblin almost shouts. “Don’t underestimate the goblin lineage! Our ancestors were cowards who submitted to humans. But we uphold our true essence.”

  “Another ridiculous speech of empty racial pride,” Andrew sighs in exasperation. “You’re just saying that to justify your crimes. You should learn from others in your race who have adapted.”

  “You sure don’t know when to shut up,” the goblin says, pointing at the boys with his glowing hand.

  “That’s one of my specialties.”

  The other goblins mimic his action, their palms glowing the same blue as they aim at the boys. Lewis holds up his energy shield, and Andrew bends his knees, ready to move.

  From the goblins’ hands, blue beams of light shoot out in a ferocious barrage. Lewis deflects each impact with his force field, but every hit feels like a powerful push, threatening to knock him down. He grimaces, struggling to stay balanced.

  Meanwhile, Andrew dashes to avoid the beams directed at him. The energy moves faster than laser shots from regular energy weapons, yet he manages to dodge them. He closes in on the goblins, striking them precisely with his intangible blades.

  The goblins not only fall quickly from Andrew’s attacks but are stunned by his agility in dodging their beams. His movements are so fluid that it’s like a choreographed routine practiced for months.

  Frustrated by the ineffectiveness of their attacks, one goblin recklessly lunges to punch the younger Vance. Andrew doesn’t notice until the last moment, after immobilizing another goblin with a slice. His attacker opens his hand, firing a beam directly at Andrew’s chest, only a few centimeters away.

  Andrew manages to raise his right forearm as a shield. The force of the impact surpasses that of a beam from his pistols. His body feels the overwhelming effect—the nervous system falters, movements becoming uncoordinated, and he suffers partial paralysis.

  The goblin, still gripping his knife with a victorious grin, tries to finish the attack with a deadly strike to Andrew’s chest. Something stops him, however. Like Andrew, he feels a forceful impact. In his case, it’s on his back, coming from Lewis’s rifle.

  The goblin tries to thrust his knife again, but Andrew physically restrains his wrist after dropping one of his pistols.

  “What…?” the goblin writhes in pain under the boy’s grip.

  “We’re not afraid of digital magic,” Andrew says with a triumphant smile. “A moment ago, you told us not to underestimate goblins. You shouldn’t underestimate humans either.”

  Andrew’s hand begins to glow with the same blue light the goblins used.

  “Because we can use digital magic too.”

  At the entrance of the underground depot, the orc who had been guarding collapses onto his hands and knees. He’s unable to pick up his heavy weapon, lying to his side. In front, the boy he had been fighting stands tall, his sword glowing with blue light. Equally striking are the knuckles on his hands, also imbued with the same glow.

  The boy breathes heavily, several bruises visible on his body, especially on his fingers. The only thing still nearly pristine is his blazer.

  “Do you need medical assistance, Axel?” LENA asks through the boy’s earpiece.

  “Not much, little sister,” Axel replies, deactivating his sword so it stops glowing. “Just a few bandages for my fingers, and that’s it.”

  “You broke your fingers to win a brute force fight against an orc… Even with your gloves and digital magic, it was reckless to face someone stronger than you.”

  “But I used my magic more efficiently and I won,” Axel shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter. “And the police?”

  “They’re on their way. Good thing this time there wasn’t much property damage.”

  Inside the depot, Andrew releases the goblin, who collapses to the floor, physically and mentally defeated. The other goblins are also exhausted or immobilized from their injuries.

  “Digital magic can enhance a user’s physical abilities or shoot energy bolts like you did,” Andrew explains. “It has many other uses, but these are the ones criminals employ to intimidate. You should learn the other applications.”

  “Do you ever shut up?” the goblin mutters, sitting on the floor, unwilling to continue fighting.

  The sound of a body hitting the floor echoes. Lewis has just collapsed onto his back, his face showing absolute exhaustion.

  “You’re at your limit already?” Andrew asks. “Wow, you really have no physical endurance.”

  “That’s what happens when you overuse your magic to power your shield,” LENA remarks through the earpiece.

  “I had to… or else…” Lewis suddenly covers his mouth, as if feeling nauseous.

  “Stop overexerting yourself,” Andrew says. “I don’t want to mop the floor in case you throw up.”

  Five in the morning. A group of patrol cars is parked near the entrance of the underground depot. After the fight—and the sounds of laser beams—several nearby residents, in addition to a certain AI, called the authorities, so the metropolitan police didn’t waste any time getting to the scene.

  Thirteen perpetrators were taken to the police vehicles for transport to detention centers. The evidence against them—like weapons and traces of aggressive digital magic—is enough to press charges. Two humans, an orc, and ten goblin smugglers would make headlines in the media. The police are also removing several wooden and cardboard boxes where small robots and their components had been stored.

  One of the police captains wanted to participate in the arrest personally after being called by a certain group of boys before they acted. From one of the cars steps an adult anthropomorphic wolf, tall, with silver and dark gray fur and amber eyes. He wears a flawless dark blue jacket adorned with several distinctions, including a golden badge on his shoulder indicating his rank.

  The captain watches as three brown-haired boys exit the depot, one leaning on another to avoid falling. With a smile and a slightly disapproving gesture, he approaches them.

  “Lewis, Axel, Andrew. Intervening in legal matters again?”

  “Hello, Captain Nightshade,” the youngest Vance greets. He carries a cardboard box in his hands. “We came on a client’s assignment and unintentionally got involved with a smuggling gang.”

  The adult wolf rolls his eyes. He doesn’t buy the excuse a second.

  “I appreciate that you called me before doing something reckless,” Nightshade says, watching the criminals being loaded into the vehicles. “Are you sure you didn’t go overboard with force?”

  “Just a few broken bones,” Axel says innocently.

  Lewis, nearly unconscious, raises his hand and gives a thumbs-up.

  “I wasn’t talking about that, but okay. Those criminals were carrying illegal weapons and attacked you. That’s enough to keep you out of trouble.”

  “We’re a legal agency courtesy of our father, Captain,” Andrew says. “We can use weapons legally.”

  “That’s not what worries me,” Nightshade sighs, offering another small smile. “If you did anything minor, I’ll take responsibility. After all, I owe Allen that.”

  “We appreciate it,” Axel says, giving a military-style salute with his free arm, while using the other to help his older brother stay upright.

  “Thank…you…” Lewis manages to say.

  “It’s almost sunrise,” Andrew observes as the dark sky begins to lighten. “We should get going. Thanks again, Captain.”

  “Be careful, and make sure Lewis doesn’t drive—or I’ll fine you.”

  The three brothers return to where their van is parked, which hasn’t moved since the operation began. Leaning against one of its doors is the boy who hired them. He wanted to get out of the vehicle after LENA listed and detailed all her security measures. Through the screen inside, he saw the boys’ exploits and how they stopped the smuggling gang.

  “Here’s your robot,” Andrew lifts the box like a trophy. “It should match the specifications you gave us.”

  “Did you check the serial number?” the boy asks as he receives the box.

  “Why didn’t we think of that first?” Axel says.

  The boy pulls a small robot out of the box, barely a foot tall. It is shaped like a dog, white with black details. He turns it over to check the belly and verify the number.

  “Yes, it’s the model I designed.”

  Both he and the Vances feel relieved to hear that.

  “You were lucky they didn’t disassemble it,” LENA’s voice echoes from inside the van. “Otherwise, it would have been impossible. You’d have had to—”

  “Stop being so negative,” Andrew interrupts.

  “I’ll pay you right away,” the boy says, taking out his phone and opening his bank account. He then transfers the amount the brothers had requested to the agency’s account. “Is this really enough? You almost risked your lives.”

  “The job was to help you recover your pet robot. The rest was collateral damage.”

  Axel opens the van door and helps Lewis to sit down. From his pocket, he pulls out a silver key, opens the driver’s door, gets in, and starts the engine.

  “Get in. We’ll drop you off near your house. Watch out if Lewis throws up,” Andrew says from the passenger seat.

  “O-okay,” the boy hesitates but climbs into the van.

  “Forty minutes until sunrise,” LENA says. “Hurry, or your sleep hours will get cut short.”

  “LENA, show me the optimal route.”

  “Analyzing streets, corners, and avenues.”

  The auxiliary screen projects a detailed map of the streets ahead, and the van begins to move.

  “Heading home.”

  “Do you do this every night?” the boy asks, curious.

  “Almost always,” Andrew replies. “By day, this city is flashy—technology everywhere, multiple races coexisting. But at night, it shows its true face, and things get more interesting.”

  “I agree,” LENA admits.

  Axel nods several times, and Lewis weakly raises his right thumb.

  The Vances’ van drives on. Another successful night for their agency has come to an end, and the approaching sunrise signals the time to rest until the sky darkens again and their team returns to action.