She turned to the officer. "Questions…?" she murmured, her voice soft with fatigue.
"Yes, wait a minute. I will call you," the officer said before stepping out of the car.
Frieren waited inside. For someone who had fought demons, she remained unimpressed, just staring through the car's window.
"I really just want to sleep…"she said.
Frieren exhaled softly, murmuring to herself, "Humans… endlessly fascinating, yet so fragile in their ways."
She tapped on the window's surface, waiting, then yawned again.
"Okay! Little one, come on in!" he shouted.
Frieren pushed the car's door, but it didn't open. "Huh?" she said.
The Metal Beast's door..… how did he manage that? she thought.
The officer kept staring at Frieren, confused why she didn't come.
Then he stepped forward and opened the door for her.
The night air brushed against her ears as the faint hum of the idle engine continued.
A soft puff of her breath fogged the window for a brief moment, dissipating into the cool air.
When the officer opened the door, Frieren stared at him, her expression straightened, just like a cat caught in the darkness.
She froze, alert and still, like a predator in the night.
Her eyes narrowed, calculating, a subtle shimmer of mana at her fingertips.
Yet she stepped normally beside the officer, moving toward the police building.
"Ah… caution, Fern always advised. In every situation," she thought.
Her steps were measured, yet her mind raced, recalling Fern's advice.
"What exactly did she say?…" she sighed.
"Ah, never mind. The cloak… essential. They must not touch it."
The soft glow of streetlights reflected in her eyes as she prepared to enter the building.
She stared at the surroundings. Everything was blank, the floor, the walls, even the doors. A smell of cigarette drifted to her nose.
This place smells like the metal beast, she mused, wrinkling her nose slightly.
Are there metal beasts here, too? she wondered softly.
A mustachioed, stout man was reading the newspaper.
"Who's in charge?" he asked without lifting his face.
"This girl, sir!" the officer said, his tone filled with respect.
The man glanced at Frieren, then lowered his head back to the newspaper.
Moments later, he lifted his head quickly, eyes widening slightly.
He speaks to him like he's a king… how peculiar, she thought.
She noticed the low murmur of voices, each step and shuffle recorded in her senses.
"Alright, young lady… what brings you here?" the chief officer asked.
"She's lost, sir! I found her wandering alone on the streets," the officer replied.
"Ah… what's your name, girl?" he asked.
My name? Huh… she thought.
"I am Frieren," she said softly, but with quiet certainty.
She tilted her head slightly, gauging the tone of the humans before answering.
"Frieren… interesting name," he said, raising an eyebrow.
Murmurs passed between two officers. "Seems quite like a fantasy name, huh?"
"Oh… like the old novels?" another whispered, holding a cup of coffee.
So… my name has been erased by time, she thought, her eyes fixed on the ground.
The faint scent of coffee and paper mingled, grounding her in the human environment.
A tiny pulse of magic lingered in her fingertips, restrained but aware of her surroundings.
The officers kept staring at each other in awkward silence.
"Take a seat, lady," the chief said, eyes on the newspaper, though his hands trembled subtly, betraying a nervousness he tried to hide.
"So, Frieren… running away from home, or just wandering?"
"No," Frieren said.
"So… are you rebelling against your parents, or what?" he asked.
The quiet murmur of the other officers created a tense undercurrent in the otherwise still room.
"Can you give me your parents' number?" he asked with a sigh, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Number?" she murmured.
"Like… my mother is number one, and my father is number two?" she said, her tone carrying a quiet innocence.
Her knowledge gap made the officers' eyes shift nervously across her.
The silence lingered for a moment, broken only by the faint chirping of crickets from outside.
"Speaking of a lost girl in weird clothes… don't you guys think she might have some mental disorder?" a murmur slipped from one officer.
Her fingers brushed the folds of her cloak, a small, grounding gesture amid the confusion.
"Mental… what do you mean?" she murmured.
"It seems we'll have to hold you here for now… girl," the chief officer said, a serious expression forming on his face.
If I just spent my night at that coffee place… Frieren's lips pressed together, a faint frown forming.