My name is Adriano.** I’m 18, and for two years, I’ve worn the uniform of the *Special Police*. We’re not your average cops chasing bank robbers. Our mission is public defense against demons—or "*extra-dimensional entities*," as scientists prefer. Whatever they are, 800 years ago, Earth’s animals underwent a bizarre mutation. The Church calls them *possessed*; science says they *evolved*. No one knows for sure. My family’s Christian, so… *demons* it is.

  Not all animals changed, of course. If they had, goodbye steak. Cows, pigs, chickens, fish—those are still "*normal*." But as a precaution, keeping pets is banned under penalty of death. Raising kittens or dogs? Forget it. Meat, meanwhile, became a luxury. It’s been two years since I last tasted a good steak.

  I live in **Benguela, Angola**. I joined the *Public Defense Force* at 16 because of my potential—most enlist at 18. Just as animals evolved, so did we. Some of us are born with powers: water, wind, demon control… Me? Let’s just say I’m good with swords. And fast. *Very* fast.

  Back in the day, there were many of us. A bloody war against demons ravaged Africa. Now, we’re few. Attacks are rare—but brutal. When they happen, innocents die.

  ---

  *“Adriano! Wake up, kid! We’ve got a call!”* The Boss’s voice yanked me from my thoughts.

  *“I’m up, Boss. Where’s the trouble?”* I asked, yawning.

  *“North side. A demon broke into a house.”*

  *“No units closer?”*

  *“Five men went in. Called for urgent backup. We’re the nearest.”*

  We piled into the car—just the three of us: **Claudia**, the rookie, and the Boss. Our uniform? Suits and ties. We look like the *"Men in Black,"* as regular cops call us.

  We reached **northern Lubango**. A house surrounded by squad cars. The Boss, scowling as usual, glared at the officer in charge.

  *“Just you three?”* the cop asked, skeptical.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  *“Four ‘Men in Black’ already got slaughtered inside. This thing’s Rank B.”*

  *“Rank B?”* Claudia gulped.

  The *"Men in Black"* are classified **Z, S, A, B, C, D, E**. **E** is weak. **Z** is… apocalyptic.

  *“Relax. We’ve got a Rank B right here,”* the Boss said.

  *“Claudia, I sense monstrous energy inside. Probably B or C.”*

  *“Move in,”* the Boss ordered.

  *“Stand back! The ‘Men in Black’ are entering!”* the cop shouted.

  The house was a horror show. A headless woman on the living room floor, blood everywhere.

  *“Find it, Claudia,”* the Boss commanded.

  *“Upstairs,”* she replied, tense.

  I spotted a tuna can and a pet bowl on the floor. *They were keeping a cat.*

  A child’s cry echoed from above. Claudia bolted for the stairs.

  *“Claudia, wait!”* the Boss yelled.

  A shadow lunged from the top of the stairs. Razor-sharp claws sliced the air—decapitating Claudia in one swipe.

  A **cat demon**, human-sized, feline-faced, claws dripping blood.

  The Boss fired six shots. One grazed the demon’s arm. *Too fast*, even in tight spaces. He kept shooting—special *fire bullets*. I charged, sword drawn.

  The demon dodged, leaping at the Boss. A beam of energy shot from its mouth, hitting the bullet mid-air—and the Boss, who blocked with his arm. The deflected bullet struck the demon’s jaw.

  I seized the opening. Channeled energy into my blade—a lightning slash. The demon’s leg flew off. It tried escaping through the window. The Boss fired an *impact round*.

  Enraged, the demon unleashed another energy beam. The Boss’s bullet pierced through—direct hit to its mouth.

  Weakened, it staggered. I leapt, sword raised. A vertical strike. A cutting arc of energy. The demon split in half. My eyes glowed red—like a panther’s.

  *“They did it!”* the cops cheered in relief.

  But the Boss just stared at Claudia’s body, face grim.

  Officers swarmed the scene. I lit a cigarette, leaning against a squad car.

  *“Boss… you upset about Claudia?”*

  *“Yeah. But I’ve seen so many die… She was a rookie. Rank D. Rookies die fast.”*

  *“Your arm okay?”*

  *“Just a scratch. You?”*

  *“Some burns from the beam. No big deal.”*

  *“You always land the killing blow, huh? Rank B…”*

  *“In the end, it’s always just us two.”*

  *“Think I’ll retire. My wife had another kid… and this arm…”*

  *“Doubt the brass will let you.”*

  *“I’ll manage. By the way—they want you in the capital.”*

  *“No way. That place is hell. If I go… I die. Rank A and S show up there. Heard a Z even appeared.”*

  *“You can’t run forever. Someone’s snitching. Go home, rest. See you tomorrow.”*

  *“What about Claudia’s funeral?”*

  *“We’ll stop by tomorrow.”*

  ---

  **Hours later, at home…**

  *“Night, Grandpa.”*

  *“How was work, Adriano? Saw it on the news.”*

  *“Just another day. Gonna shower and sleep.”*

  *“Not eating?”*

  *He knows I skip meals when someone dies on the job…*

  *“Adriano, showering?”* **Ana**, my four-year-old sister, asked.

  *“Yeah…”*

  *“The gas is almost out.”*

  *“We’ll replace it tomorrow.”*

  In bed, Claudia

  ’s face haunted me. Young, 23. *Another one.* Seven partners in two years.

  The Public Defense Force shows no mercy.