Academy Showdown - Book 0 - An Urban Fantasy (2021)

Intermission II - MPF: School Zone

PARKED JUST OUTSIDE OF the back alley, were two squad cars adorned with the Marlia Patrol Force (MPF) logo. Four young officers arrived on the scene. Six members of the notorious Empyrean Monarch Nation street gang had been apprehended and were currently being questioned by two officers while another remained in the driver seat of one of the squad cars. Meanwhile, their sergeant, Valeria Shepherd, a woman in her late twenties with light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail was in the middle of inspecting a damaged SUV.

"Hmm." She felt around the ridges and dent marks on the vehicle. Someone was thrown into it, she thought. It couldn't have been the old guy...despite his large size, he'd have died from the impact. Unless...

The sergeant put a hand to her chin. Something about this seemed all too familiar. "Oh, gods, this had better not be who I think it is..." she grumbled to herself.

Valeria pulled out her manatite-powered smartphone and took a few photos of the damage before walking over to where The Monarchs were being questioned.

"I swear, that man over there is our friend!" The red half-oni vowed vehemently.

"Mmm-hmm." A male officer with black hair responded while jotting down the Monarchs' information.

"It's true!" The male feline beastkin confirmed. "A witch girl hit him with an aging spell!"

"Uh-huh...and is that 'Collin' with two 'l's?" the officer asked the beastkin, not paying attention to what was being said.

"Y-Yeah..." Collin nodded, heaving a sigh.

"Listen, officer, we understand that takin' down our information is also a part of your job." The leader of this set, a short human male with a large pompadour and black sunglasses, expressed his concerns. "But ain't the whole point of questionin' suppose to be....y'know...askin' us questions about the incident?"

"Yep, yep..." the officer continued, "And is it 'Zilla', with a 'z', or 'Xilla' with an 'x', Mr. Turbulence?"

The gang leader sighed, deciding that getting through to him was a lost cause. "With an 'x', officer."

The officer shifted his gaze from his notepad to Craig, the young man with mint-green hair, who was favoring his burned hand.

"Young man, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your hands where I can see 'em," he commanded, "At your sides just as I demonstrated."

"I can't, officer," Craig whimpered, "It hurts too much..."

The officer looked at him, puzzled. "What hurts?"

"My hand!" The lad snapped, annoyance clear in his voice.

"How'd you hurt your hand?"

"A girl shocked me!"

"What girl?"

"The girl we just told you about five minutes ago!!" Craig had lost his patience with the officer's aloofness and blew his top. "Seriously, did every single thing just fly straight over your head?! If you patrol officers are truly this lackadaisical, it's a wonder how we found a way back into the city..."

"Ay, Craig, that's enough!" scolded Xilla. "I understand your frustration, but this guy is the law, you can't just—"

"Ah, screw 'im. He's just some overeager rookie who's too big for his britches is all! I bet he's never even seen actual combat!"

"Look who's talkin'," the half-oni said, rolling his eyes. "Know when to shut up sometimes."

"'Too big for my britches', eh?" The officer, being trained for situations like these, did what he thought would be the best course of action in dealing with an unruly teenager...