It was a back alley in the third district of the City of Saint Lucius. Where the sun was hitting the sett-paved road. Bouncing off the corralled buildings. In this back alley, there’s a backdoor leading to the building.

A man in his thirties was shaking badly at the sight of a man in a business suit dropping down from the second floor. His sturdy legs remained firm. The man in his thirties thought he’d be crippled by it.

The suit and tie-wearing man lifted the man in his thirties with one hand.

“Mr. Atkins. Why were you running?”

“You started hitting everyone you psycho!”

“I told your people that if you tried to. I’d hit all of you. You even shot at me. I think that breaking your bones was the best I could do.”

His gun remained holstered. His gloved hand kept the man in his thirties up without shaking or faltering. His face was shadowed by the sun. The eerie demeanor of the man in the business suit made him recall the warnings of the folk. 

“I-I thought you guys weren’t real.”

“Mr. Atkins. You understand that this city is currently wary of people getting involved with the occult. If this was four months ago then you might have gotten away with cult-related goods. The thing is that this is a bad time to do it.”

His voice was leveled and bland. It was so bland that Atkins could only shiver. The man holding him however kept on staring. His eyes were still shadowed by the sun.

“Please let me off! I swear that I won’t do it again!”

“Not good enough. I need to know where you got these things. Your supplier. Your source. Every detail you can give. From the color of their hair to how they speak.”

“I will. I swear.”

He swung his left fist on Atkin's gut. Atkin curled and lost consciousness. He dropped Atkin on the ground and took his recon camera out and shot a picture of him.

“Done, Robert?”

Another man in a black business suit walked out of the building. He had a military-style haircut. He was cleanly shaved and was holding a baton in his hand that had some blood clinging to it.

“Paul. You got everyone knocked out?”

“Would have been easier if we just shot them. But we need to have witnesses and all of that. Tsk, you really plowed through the illusion.”

Robert pocketed his camera. He dragged Atkin back to the building and shut the door. He dragged him like a sack of potatoes up the staircase and threw him with the rest.

“That was some powerful illusion you have.”

“Powerful? Robert, you didn’t look affected by it. Now I feel like my spells are shit.”

Robert explained that it was not that. He had been touched by Lesnik’s grace so he was able to instinctively use all of his senses at once. By using all of his senses, he was able to navigate the fog of confusion, disarm their opponents, and let their fists and batons do the rest.

“You didn’t use some of your weapons. Do you even use them?”

“Sometimes, but these people aren’t monsters. Juliana’s going to nag me if I shoot these people.”

Robert blandly said as he sifted through the documents and all the occult-related things that were scattered in their hideout. Paul, who heard what he said, chuckled.

“She’s hard on you because you’ve been through some wild things. You got into a lot of things lately. Aren’t you glad that the Magi Families and yours truly have come to help?”

It was a week after the Silva Family’s burial that things settled down. Enforcers from other regions were called back. Paul Guiton was one of the Enforcers that he had been partnering with.

“Kinda. It’s great that you know these illusions. Wish I knew them.”

“They’re not that good. People are built differently. They have their own immunities and it differs from the one who receives them. You’ve built some immunity. Truthfully though, as much as I'd like to see Lesnik or hear some of the Devil’s words. I’d rather not be mentally insane. Jesus Christ, you’ve changed mate.”

Robert was glad that everyone who noticed his change thought that it was Lesnik or Marbas that made him like this. He didn’t think of correcting them either. It was better this way and he was more comfortable being him.

“Let’s have the Cleaners take them. They really made this place feel haunted.”

Paul agreed. He called for people while Robert checked their binds and kept them on the ground. It took a while before the Cleaners appeared with their respiration mask and equipment. They were masquerading as a cleanup crew and were masters of making people stay away.

Don, one of the guys in charge of cleaning, looked at Robert.

“It’s you again, Oswald.”

“Hey, sorry about this. You guys had a lot of shit to clean up as well.”

Don shrugged his shoulders.

“Part of the job. We’re on shift but you're always part of the fucking problem. Paul, try to make this guy work less hard.”

“Can’t do that, Chief. This bastard is broke and barely has cash in him. Been using the base’s car all day.”

He had been running out of cash because of the things he had been making. Robert does admit that his state was more of paranoia than actually about being prepared. He already had this paranoia even before this life. Being under the geothermal sky there was one thing that he could do. Prepare as much as possible before going on a job. That job required him to fight augmented humans who have prosthetic limbs and weapons that could shred through concrete like paper.

“Well, if you do give me a small loan then I might not try to find so much work?”

“Dude, you already pocketed some of their cash.”

Robert got a hundred euros in their pockets. Most of them were surprisingly broke or didn’t carry their own cash here.

“My boys will clean this place. The rest of the items here will be handed to the Witches.”

“Let’s go. Thanks for the hard work.”

“Fuck off Oswald.”

Robert grinned and left with Paul. Paul begrudgingly entered Robert’s rented car. He looked behind the backseat and then messed with the AC.

“How can you live like this?”

“It works. Just open the damn window, Paul.”

Paul rolled the window down. He leaned his elbow on the gap and snorted.

“Fucking hell it’s hot. That reminds me, are you going back to your apartment after this?”

“I am.”

Paul snorted again.

“Other than work. What do you do?”

“Television is nice, you should watch it.” 

“Haven’t seen you go out or do anything other than watch those cartoons. Really, how can you watch them?”

“It’s fun for me.”

Paul mocked him silently. He does remember that most of the people that watched cartoons in this era were children. There were only a few who had the eccentricity to watch and enjoy them. It was because of this that Robert felt obligated to explain.

“It’s funny as shit. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s for kids, Robert.”

“Course’ I know that. I mean I do want to see if the Cat wins. That mouse is such a fucking asshole that I can’t help it.”

“It’s… a cartoon.”

“It’s my own fun.”

They stopped at a crossing waiting for the green light. Robert continued to explain himself.

“I mean if the cat wins then that mouse can be eaten. I mean the poor guy can’t catch a break really!”

“You are so passionate about this. I remember not even speaking. Damn, something must have fucked with your head, man.”

“Could be. I mean you can try almost dying in a pit of corpses. See if that doesn’t change your perception of the world.”

Paul disagrees wholeheartedly.

“A normal human would buy alcohol and have some fun with women after that shit. Hell, I was half-expecting you to be on drugs. How in the hell did you not get that habit in Palermo?”

He did remember having the temptation to do drugs. At least ‘Robert’ recalled being tempted to take drugs but refused because it dulled the senses and it was too expensive. Hearing Robert’s reason why he didn’t get into an addiction.

Paul understood and at the same time laughing at it.

“Makes sense, but at the same time, it feels like it doesn’t as well. Still, of all the things that you could have started enjoying.”

Robert calmly shrugged. “It’s a matter of things. I do enjoy training myself. Does that count in your taste, Paul?”

“I am not sparring with you again, bastard.”

“Why not?”

“I’m still feeling some of my bruises. Fuck me, don’t tell me you’re holding a grudge. Okay, no more talking about your strange favorability towards watching cartoons.”

Robert was half messing with him. But he does feel that lately he really had grown fond of watching the show sincerely. It was an ancient classic to him.

There were still many things that he could look forward to here. Maybe it’s because he had lived in such troubled times that he had an appreciation for things.

Because if this was his old world then he’d have to pay for the subscription fee, and then had to suffer the poor quality that had degraded as time passed.

The car continued moving. Paul texted someone and then checked his pockets. He checked the car for any cigarettes and tried to pick up Robert’s pockets.

“Don’t have one.”

Paul gave up and leaned back in his seat.

“That Guzman didn’t talk.”

“I heard.”

Guzman was loyal. Even in the face of death, he didn’t speak. If anything even without the magic to extract the information out of him. Guzman would never break his promise.

It was an admirable trait. Even if they were bastards who sold people’s blood and organs. You can’t deny that there was indeed a good reason for Rubio Ferric to trust Guzman.

“Didn’t leak a damn thing. It’s good that he left some trail. If not then all the Yankees did would have been for naught.”

“That is no longer my concern.”

“Bullshit. You care. After all that work you did and you think that you aren’t going?”

Robert tried to level his voice. But he knew it himself that he still had some grievances left regarding them.

“I do. But it’s no longer in our hands. Sir Hawke’s leading the investigation and besides. You know that we’re more concerned about the syndicate these days.”

“Something or someone always fills up the power vacuum. I’m surprised the Magi Families are letting them.”

There was a clear strangeness in the affairs of the Magi Families. If anything Robert found their movements like old men waiting for death. Doing things as if they had no regard for their future. Although he did hear that since their era was declining they had to act recklessly.

They might need to act while their main source of power and leverage was still so effective. It was a shared sadness by the new Enforcers working for CASE about how they became Enforcers in the last years of Magic.

You get to become a magician suddenly and then suddenly it goes away. Even now they could feel that CASE was starting to transition and accept what would come.

In a world where magic was lessened. What will be the place for people like him who relied on supernatural entities to make a living?

Then again, even if the millennium bug does take all the magic away.

He’d still be here working for CASE. Make sure that the ones left behind by the magic will remain harmless.

That those who still dare call out to the occult with vile reason would be handled.

People will always tend to turn to the supernatural when it’s hopeless.

They would clasp their hands to speak to God to help them.

And they were the one who make sure that the other side doesn't meet the normal side of the world.