Rain poured from the lifeless grey sky, pounding the surface of each gravestone as if the drops would awake the dead. However, among all the decease and slow decay, a figure in a black rain mac simply stood in place. Despite the weather, the figure was a man that refused to move from a particular stone.
The words, Leon Lionhart, was engraved and showed clearly even in the dampening of the elements. The man sighed, knowing that by now he was the only one that returns to the slab of rock that now represents the person that mold him to what he is now.
He could visually imagine how his teacher would be if he could see him now. A noticeable shake of the head and a light scolding of how sentimentally stubborn he is to return to a patch of dirt that did nothing but ache his heart. That no matter how many times he came back, nothing would change. Not his friend's death. Not the path he thrown away. Not even himself. But if only he could hear the words from him now, that he would relish more than anything.
"Would have brought some scotch, but you know how the US is serving 'minors'." It was a silly gesture, but he was aware that some people would bring back offerings to graves. Commodities such as food and drink was the normal thing that was brought down. Others would take flowers to settle next to the stones, however he would not commit to bringing senseless plants to his friend to only have them die. It was too selfish to him, even if he could see how illogical it was for criticize that when he too is being selfish. He tries to smile at the grave, "I could have gotten away with taking a bottle from the store. However I know, you would frown at even the suggestion of it." A yanking sensation became visible from his chest, dropping his attempt to lighten the depression that this 'graveyard' has an endless supply of.
Another soft sigh left his lips as the pair of hazelnut eyes cast down at the patch of ground below him. He didn't know how long it has been since his death till he really bothered to think about it. To him it feels longer than originally, but the reality was that only a few years has passed.
"Sorry, partner." An apology that never will get a reply from again, but it did not matter as the water continues to patter against the sheets he wore on him. Nevertheless, he forgot how many times he has done this. "Got to get my flight now." He turns away from the grave before slowly walking away.
"Farewell."
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Year 2040. Ever since the string of terrorist attacks and the rise of crime between 2013 to 2018, the UN have decided to take action.
Pooling resources to invest in world wide security, the countries had being to grow talent and develop counter measures to stop incidents from occurring.
Liberation League. The LL was the first to gather talented people that specialize in various sections of criminology and combat. From there they have solved over a thousand cases in over five years after forming in 2020, with a 98.7% rate of countering terrorist threats and 100% to solving crimes.
From there on each country had allowed universities to help train the future generation to liberate crime from the world.
The most infamous of them all was Justice University of London, where the infamous Holmes bloodline originated. Those that graduate from this eventually end up in government agencies such as MI6, CIA, and even detective agencies like Scotland Yard.
However, only the best of the best gets a shot into going into the LL. To call themselves Liberators.
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A yawn left his lips as he walked past the crowds of strangers, little care about what was going on with their lives.
Despite the leather jacket and thicker Jeans, the typical British weather was all but a harsh freeze that could even make an Eskimo shiver. The scarf and leather gloves did little to dampen the overall effect, but he was capable of soldering on.
With every step the winds attacks every part of his tall yet slightly muscular build, causing his long French crop hair to slightly sway and the two hazelnut eyes to slowly dry from the frost bite blow.
With all the randomness of the British elements the man contemplated why he even bother moving from Miami. It's not like he really needs to when he was technically doing okay with his life. Why he even did this, other than for the qualification and references to add on his many others, was the fact that the university offered a ridiculous sponsorship.
Not that he was a poor person, but it did mean that he could send some money to his family so that they could properly finance their restaurant. Yes, Kuzo Corderi has taken a course on one of the world's most prestigious universities, for the money. Otherwise he had little interest in delivering justice.
The commute from his so called 'bachelor pad', as his few friends call it, was no more than a twenty odd minute walk. Something like that hardly faze him, less it rains or snows. It just showed that a reputation and some unforeseen connections could do and all he had to do was spend three cruddy years of his life doing the 'elementary' things that he more or less knew.
Eventually he arrives at the entrance of the university, completely secure with a one floor house tall metallic fence that offers the only way in or out. Beside the entrance was security that regularly monitors the people that enter or exit. By simply walking past the gate he felt his bracelet vibrate, to indicate that the school now registers him as being 'on sight'.
An E-bracelet, or an ecommerce bracelet for the none savvy, was a convenient tool that not only allows you to make purchases with a tap of the object, but allowed government establishments the ability to monitor individual profiles. In essence, everything that makes the individual himself or herself was strapped into a hand collar.
And society simply leap into them without a care in the world.
But he had nothing to hide. Even with the gun visibly strapped onto his right holster did not warrant the eyes of the guards. Otherwise he would have been stopped and would have to show his gun permit, which despite his switch in profession, still allowed him access to his firearm.
Regardless, the process was simple and painless as he strolls inside the luscious halls that would even impress the people in parliament. The marble floors reflect softly and showed it's white grate cleanness, strong oak stairs held the weight of many students that walk or run up them. It was a clear mash of modern and classic looks to display it's high status.
While the academy was split into six different floor sectors, Kuzo decided to walk to the third floor where his classes are held.
The simplistic of everything was that each floor covered different parts of learning.
Ground floor was the basic of them all, holding an outdoor physical education area and shooting range, more or less rolled into one. It was also the place where the cafeteria and student hall was.
First floor belonged to Scientology and R&D, where the science geeks would gather with the mechanics and tinkers. Not somewhere he has been to, but he was aware that they have a reputation of being one of the nuttiest parts of the university.
Second floor house the teacher's departments and medical ward. He was not sure why they dedicated half the floor for offices, nor did he really care. However the medical ward was more like a semi hospital that existed in the university. Doctors, nurses, surgeons and the like, there was students that train and studies there and they were one of the lucky ones to have access to the lifts and restricted stairs from ground to second floor.
Forth floor had studies in regards to investigations and warfare. While majority of courses do not require you to risk your life, the crime investigators and combat units require you to train and gain a gun permit. Of course, Kuzo just refers the section as the thinkers and the doers, as one is more physical than the others.
Fifth floor was granted the IT, negotiators and law. Why they decided to roll all three into one floor, he would not really know other than possible convenience. While he does not study there, Kuzo has made various rounds due to technical issues. And of course, the IT students and teachers are rather 'enthusiastic' to play technical support.
Six floor, now that was a mystery of itself. Kuzo never been there himself, nor could he like nearly all the students. This was because it belonged to the liberators. The best of the best in their field, or more or less the geniuses of the university. While the university already has a high standard in regards to who they enroll, out of a possible thousand or so students, they would be lucky if 1% of them have the ability to enroll to six floor.
But all he knows was that in the liberators, there was a Holmes. Yes, a descendant of the legendary detective Sherlock Holmes attends this very academy, and to his knowledge she was a first year too. Of course he never met her, nor even seen this phantom. But nevertheless, he knew that she was one of the few in the university, even in the world, to have a 'blood line'.
Of course, everyone has a 'blood line', a descendant of someone important or famous once in their family tree. No, After the LL firmly establish themselves they have made a rare discovery. Through some rare genetics, some people would have a stronger link to that famous individual, or more specifically their trait. With a shot that the newest generation take at birth, these rare people unlock some sort of ability from that ancestor. These can be physical traits such as enhance strength or endurance, physiological like mind reading or telekinesis, or anything that the average individual would not be able to do.
The Holmes were a national treasure. Celebrities. The all stars of detectives. Regardless of gender, everyone knows that their blood line is linked to their intuition and problem solving skills. To deduct so accurately that not even the most seasoned of detectives would have reached that conclusion. However that made no impact to him what so ever. The likelihood that he would ever encounter a Holmes or be involved in crime solving was a near improbability, as long as lady luck tries not to screw with him.
Eventually he arrives at the third floor, the study of criminology. Yes, understanding why the criminals do what they do as well as looking into the mind of a felon and the ways to deter them. Of course there was more that meets the eye, but he could only muster another yawn as he followed the crowd.
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Arriving at the lecture hall, his eyes once again wonder around the room for a minute in soft amazement. White walls that reflect the light from the ceiling to give this slight sparkle effect, a hoard of benches and tables that filled several rows that he avoids to really count. What he found impressive was that each table had a hidden department that housed a high end laptop for note recording or conducting work, though he was aware that some of his classmates tend to just surf the web or play games via USB sticks. Another nice touch was that the stereotypical chalk board was now replaced with a huge whiteboard that allowed their top of the line projector to display whatever lessons the teachers would like to pass down.
To Kuzo, while he originally could not care about attending the university, he can at least admire how society is becoming more modernized.
Taking his usual place in the middle row, he moved down and met his classmate and friend. At first glance, most people would have mistaken the girl as your typical British lass from an anime. Long luscious gold locks that flowed neatly behind her back, batting emerald eyes that can make weaker men swoon, even her petite pink framed glasses did nothing to hinder the ladies beauty. Sporting the university uniform, a black bespoke suit jacket with a white shirt and black tie along with her skirt. Some would even go as far as call her the criminology class model. Of course, most would not know that the girl actually originates from Germany, but her English was as clear and lacked any distinctive accent to pinpoint that fact.
The girl turned her head to Kuzo, the golden silks flicks slightly as she does, "Morning detective. On time as usual." There was a slight grin on her lips, knowing that the man took little pleasure from it but chose not let it bother him.
"Morning Clare." He begins to mechanically start his student procedures of opening his desk department as he continues, "Are you normally this early?" Though she looks like your model student, Clare was quite the social bird and originally had the misfortune of running late to the lectures. Of course she had developed the skill of sneaking into them without anyone noticing, but it was a rare sight to see the girl on time lately.
This got a dry laugh in response from the beauty as she eyes him up. "Well you are normally the early bird. Did you take a case last night?"
"You know I don't do that anymore." He slightly frowns as he boots the laptop and logs in, unimpressed with this being brought up.
Noticing his reaction the girl shrugs and rolled her eyes, "It was only a deduction."
Once he had settled down the man turns his head to the girl with sharp eyes, revealing little to anything in expression. "A deduction requires logical reasoning. Like how you wear your glasses not because you like the colour, but because you want to draw people to your eyes instead of your body." Her eyes widen as her mouth slightly drops, an obvious painting to anyone that can see her surprise. "Another would be that your unusually early these days just because someone also comes here early. But yes, it was only a deduction."
The girl went crimson, not really sure how to properly react as she just looks away from him. "You done it again..." The mutter was only to herself, too quite for even the sharpest of ears to pick up. Instead he looked back at his computer and begins to open the software in preparation to take notes.
'Not my fault you brought this out of me...' The tall man thought, knowing that only he could truly hear what comes to his head. It was not the first time someone took the skill of observation lightly and in all situations he got involved in, this disorder of pointing things out has gotten him in many situations that the average person tends to avoid. To him, observation was another part of him that was both a blessing and defiantly a curse.
A few minutes after, the students have taken their seats as the teacher arrived. Though he took his time coming down the stairs, he stopped at the row Kuzo seated and simply turns his head and waves him over. The man sighs, knowing exactly what this was going to be about. But his kindness was also a part of his being that fell in the same category.
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Walking through the hall and down the stairs, the man held on a document based envelope that he could feel that contained only a handful of papers. Thanks to what he has done a few years before joining the university, some teachers and even fewer students have trust him in important tasks. Of course, he never liked the delivery and fetch quests that seem to come up at least once a week. But he was too nice.
This earned another sigh from the man as he made it to the second floor. Within a few steps he felt nauseous, the feeling that he was all too familiar with that warned the man that something bad was going to happen.
And then it happened.
A single slip of the foot threw the usually diligent giant off balance, causing him to slide slightly as his feet begin to scamper in an attempt to gain balance. The act got him to turn suddenly which he soon started to regret as he was soon on the floor with a unknown push. A quick gasp from another threw the man off, not sure how to react as his hands gained minds of their own, both grabbing onto something.
With the newfound pain as he cushioned someone, taking the fall and knocking his head in the process. His eyes eventually adjusted to see who this stranger was.
Instead of a face he locked onto a pair of silver eyes. Why, the first thought that popped to mind was the eyes of a Wolf, he could not outright figure it out. "Do you mind moving your hand from my waist?" The voice was strong but unusually calm, however he simply abides without a word.
With both of them recovering from their fall the girl simply got passed him and walked away with little care. Kuzo simply stood stupefied as the person only showed the back of their iron investigators coat that was slightly darker than her ignot hair.
"Dam." He curse under his breath as he finds his envelope and picks it up. It wasn't till he realized that he already holding something. Without reservation, he decides to take a look.
A simple black card with the initials 'J.U.L' on the back. With a simple flip he identifies it as an id card. A picture of a tomboy in the photo with silver eyes and hair, very much identical to his new acquaintance that showed their stoic expression. With a quick glance his eyes froze in the name.
Marie Holmes.
"Double dam." He knew exactly just how much trouble he just got himself into. Not only did his bipolar luck knocked the both of them over, but he also grabbed hold of her and accidentally took her card. The most notorious individual in this university, no, the country, he just had to literally bump into and now has to somehow return it and hope the publicity don't sniff this issue out.
'Let's just get this over with.' He thought as he stuffed the card into his pocket and picked the delivery up and continued walking.
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Kuzo went through his timetable, attending his lessons till it was the beginning of the afternoon, which the buzzer awoken the masses to lunch period. While he did have to return Holme's card back, he knew that the cafeteria would be packed. So putting the issue aside with little to no difficulty, he quickly grabbed his lunch and found the usual place to hunker down.
While some might say it was a typical thing of him to pick up some croissants, the man just loved the pastry. Besides, why would he try to replace something that he enjoys?
Clare was the first to meet up and sit beside him, a little flustered but she pushed it aside. Despite being rather slender, the girl picked up a fruit salad to chomp on while recovering from the lectures.
"Caoi, Kuzo!" The tinge of Italian came from the third member of their little clique, an average height man wearing bespoke suiting. Complete with a birdseye grey waistcoat that showed a slight bulge in his figure. While having his oak hair cut short to the point it cannot be spiked up, his face was slightly chubby and youthful to the point it looked like a adolescence dressing up as a business man. The Italian walked to the other side, giving the blond a wink in the process, "And Caio Bella! How ya doing."
Clare rolled her eyes, "Hello Jake." He grins at the German, placing his plate of bolognese onto the table. While the girl had her portion of food cut to the absolute limit, Jake's food looked like the miniature version of a meaty Mount Everest which tends to be the scale of his lunches. "You know eating that much is not good for your health." She wiggles her finger at the man, showing her slight concern as a friend, but this instead brightens the boy's smile.
"Ah Bella!" Jake grabs his chest as he playfully acts as if the very air was stolen from his lips, "Your worry warms my chest ever so greatly. But worry not, I come from a long line of sturdy men of Italy! We're battle harden to handle any obstacle, even the tastiest of plates!" And with an unusually large napkin he tucks under his waistcoat to cover his chest, armed with his fork of servitude, the enthusiastic eater starts to vacuum his food.
Clare just sighs, knowing that this conversation was not going anywhere but to provide Jake the opportunity to flirt. Kuzo followed suit, taking bites of his food and relaxing before starting his search for the Holmes girl.
A few minutes passed, which Jake finished his plate and was about to say something. However he simply froze, which the sound of students went to a strange halt. Kuzo lazily looked around for whatever caused this, which he realized quickly the cause.
A single sound of steps somehow echo in the room. A girl with a silver investigator coat that ignored everyone's gaze of curiosity. The girl's once stoic expression was now replaced with the slightest of smiles. However all he knew was that she was coming this way, her eyes was inquisitive and had a hunger that he realized he had seen before.
The look of a person chasing after something.
Despite this people started to whisper and gossip, after all Liberators hardly if ever come to the cafeteria. But Kuzo simply kept his silence, praying that the girl who had her sights on him was hopefully misplaced. However he could tell as she got closer that it was slowly turning out to be what he knew deep down for it to be.
Without a word, Marie simply slipped into a seat next to Kuzo, as if unaware that everyone was watching them. The chatter of the crowd was more like low hushes, overlapping one another which became a jumble of words that not most people could pick up.
"Kuzo Corderi. Turned twenty three months ago. Your nationality is British while your family came from France. Despite your skills you decided to study criminology, what I don't truly understand is why." The man watched the girl, keeping a straight face against the girl who was probing for a reaction for some reason. Regardless of what response she was waiting for the small smile was becoming more obvious to him.
"I don't see how it should matter." The man decided to try and limit his movements to avoid the Holme's intrigue as he continued, "If I was meant to be impressed from you reading out my file then I may as well tell you that anyone could do what you did."
"True." She shrugs, "But I think it's a waste what you are doing."
Kuzo simply sighs, finishing his food as he got up. "Do you know what is a waste too? This talk." Foulness swelled inside him as he decided to leave. His friends were wordless as they watched them alongside the crowd of students.
Ignoring this, Kuzo simply walked away, which Marie shortly after follows.
Leaving the cafeteria he simply waited for the Holmes girl to arrive. While he did want to get as far away from her and her inquisitive mind, there was still a small issue that he nearly forgot to do.
"Decided the talk is not a waste now?" The girl met up with him as she examines him visually from head to toe while not being fazed by his displesurable frown.
"I don't see why you would want to talk with me in the first place." He fished out her card and simply held it out in front of the girl. "You lost this."
Her smile morphed into a fine smirk, "Impressive..." came out from her voice as she takes the card. "Though we both know that was not the case." Somewhat satisfied she begins to walk away from him, "Isn't that right, Inspector pervert."
The man clicks his tongue in annoyance, simply choosing to be ignorant of the slight jab. "Hey, you never answered my question."
"Your right." She turned to him, giving a slight wink back, "I didn't."