“Fucking Hanlon," the young investigator muttered.
He watched the field master make his way down the road. His cane carefully maneuvered around the broken cobblestones to support his weight. A pair of demihumans sitting on a stoop gave Hanlon an expressionless nod in greeting, which he returned with a quick two-fingered salute. He then turned down another street and vanished to take care of his mysterious business.
It was normal to have follow-up interviews in an investigation if there were any discrepancies or new information that came to light. But it seemed like Hanlon was getting a little too cozy at this tea shop owned by the fox woman.
Field Investigator Tomlin stared at the spot and waited until Hanlon had been gone for a full ten seconds. He then glanced both ways and casually leaned against a building that bordered the demihuman district. He pulled out a rough map of the capital city and pretended to be a pedestrian who had simply lost his way. Forgedalk was a massive city, and nobody would find it strange that a person wearing mid-level traders' attire was having a tough time finding the upper district. The city was a labyrinth of unmarked roads and unassuming landmarks. When the scenery had suddenly changed to something more dismal it was only natural for a lost person to think he'd taken a wrong turn somewhere.
Jin Hanlon was being a royal pain in the ass. For a guy with a leg injury he was certainly active and mobile enough. Either the injury was fake, or he was one stubborn investigator. He had traveled from the very center of the middle district all the way to the western side, back again to the Guild Union and then to the eastern demihuman district. All of this business was taken care of in the span of a few hours.
Tomlin had tailed Hanlon up until the butcher shop owned by a man named Bruce Lawry, where he then handed the duty off to another investigator. They didn't need Altham Volkest's people or any observant bystanders thinking that something was up. Having the same person tailing for several hours was too conspicuous. The western section wasn't brimming with people and didn't have the unobtrusive corners and alleys to remain incognito. Hanlon also had decent relations with the guards stationed in the western district and was friendly with a captain named Leon Turner. The guards were attentive and intimately in touch with the populace. They were also more lenient and justly committed, so there was a sort of brotherly and sisterly bond between the guards and citizens they protected.
Tomlin folded the map and stuffed it into his trousers with a feigned fit of frustration. After making sure that his tucked-in shirt was bundled up enough to conceal his leather armor he paced down the road and passed the intersection. Turning left would take him to the demihuman district. To the right would take him to a winding road bordered by bakeries and some old family-owned businesses from a time when the city-states were still around -- before Tevilandis had been united under a single banner. Another street ran parallel that mostly consisted of bars and other places with rowdy bards and cheap alcohol. Connecting the two roads were narrow alleys and overlapping arteries lit with dim caricthmian crystals.
The investigator narrowed his eyes and gauged the distance from the end of the road to the intersection. He would easily be able to see if Hanlon decided to head back this way after whatever business was concluded in the demihuman district. If not him, then it would be someone else posted at one of many other exits from the district.
Yeah, that'll work, he thought.
He made a show of admiring the buildings. He took an exaggerated whiff of cinnamon as he passed a bakery. Every so often he'd pull out the map and nod to himself.
The city was starting to enter the rift between its early drinking crowd and groups of night-goers. There were a few citizens that wandered into the old shops, and many stopped in the bakeries to grab a snack after a long day of work.
Curiosity was starting to get the better of Tomlin. He was still under Hanlon's command, but the field chiefs of the Field Investigation Office had received orders from up on the High Council to report back on Hanlon's activities. Tomlin had expressed his confusion to one of the field chiefs, posing questions about why they were concerned about Hanlon in the first place. All the chief gave him was a frown that said, “Are you defying orders?” even though it seemed like a reasonable inquiry.
Tomlin had let it go. He was too low on the food chain to press his misgivings.
The field chiefs controlled the FIO, and many of them probably weren't too happy that a field master like Jin Hanlon was receiving invitations to the High Council meetings. Furthermore, these summons came directly from the chief councilman himself, Ardievca Volkest.
Tomlin had felt rotten about working as a double-agent. Hanlon had trusted him to keep tabs on the adventurer known as Evan McCarthy for a bit, but he was also feeding this information to those outside his investigation as well. Hanlon had asked Tomlin and the other field investigators under his charge to keep an eye out for him in case Altham's people overstepped their bounds, but this was now relayed to other more powerful people. The whole thing screamed 'conspiracy,' but all Tomlin had to do was report what he saw. He didn't need to rationalize, because he convinced himself that he wasn't taking sides.
It was a good thing that Hanlon's friend, Evelyn Fortellia, was still recovering from her injuries. She suspected everyone. If she was up and about it would have made their job much more difficult.
Just do your job. Get paid. Go home, Tomlin thought.
He kept looking up from the map and made sure that he glanced over his shoulder at enough intervals to see if Hanlon was walking towards the intersection from the demihuman district.
Tomlin had nearly turned around but was forced to stop abruptly when he nearly bumped into someone. He recoiled back but composed himself when he saw the other person's hand raised in a disarming gesture.
“Woah, terribly sorry,” the other man said with his hand still up. “I was trying to get your attention, but you were a bit lost in thought there.”
Tomlin shook his head and mentally cursed. He forced the most genuine smile he could muster and wiped some non-existent dirt from his sleeve. “No no. You are fine, friend. I really was in my own little world.”
The other man laughed. He was a big fellow wearing no more than a white cotton undershirt and leather vest. His baggy trousers were muddied near the cuffs, and the earthy smell from him made Tomlin assume he was one of the maintenance workers for the city's eastern gate. The man also had a number of nasty-looking scars on his face. This wasn't uncommon in his line of work with all the dangerous equipment and other occupational hazards. With all that facial damage, he must've dodged death more than just a few times.
The scarred man stepped up next to him, a little closer than Tomlin might've liked, but he relaxed a bit as the man pointed at the pocket holding the map.
“I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little more than just lost in thought,” the big man said. The smell of alcohol was now prominent on his breath.
Tomlin took a moment to process what he was saying but glanced down at where the map was situated in his pocket. He figured he must have stuffed it away on reflex when he panicked. “Ah, yes.”
The road was becoming a little more lively. Individuals laughed and ate their pastries. Some people showed off what antiques they'd bought or other hobby items that piqued their interest. Many of them made impulse purchases that they would probably regret later thanks to the influence of alcohol. People wrapped arms around each others' shoulders, rocking back and forth on their feet as they sang songs painfully out of tune. The genial atmosphere was palpable.
The scarred man now had his fists planted on his hips. He stuck his chest out, which just made him enter Tomlin's personal space even more, as a hearty laugh erupted from him.
"I know this city like the back of my hand!" the scarred man gloated. "Where you headed? I'm sure I can point you in the right direction."
Tomlin tried to let the positive atmosphere take him so that he could better respond to this overly-friendly man. He knew the world needed more helpful people like this, but they somehow managed to be the most annoying at times like this.
The young investigator was about to respond when he suddenly felt something unmistakably sharp pressing into his side. He thought maybe it was due to the man practically bumping into him and pressing the scabbard of his short sword out of place. But the guard and grip weren't all that sharp. It had been a brief little prick. No more than a sting.
Then the scarred man's face started to get...fuzzy.
Shock hit him first, and then disbelief. Tomlin blinked rapidly and fought through the haze. He randomly pieced together what had happened as his thoughts muddied. A knife wouldn't have worked for what this man intended. They were too close to each other and the thrusting motion and spacing would be too obvious. It had to be something thin to slip through the crease of his leather armor.
A flood of questions passed through his mind in the span of a second: Did Hanlon suspect him already and have this man sent to deal with him? Did anyone else find out? Was he betrayed by his superiors? Did the man have another method of incapacitating him? Something even less obvious?
The scarred man's voice was distorted, "Woah there! You alright, friend?"
I could break free and run, Tomlin thought desperately. No...why don't I just shout?
He was now aware of the tightening in his throat. A numbness crawled from the spot where he'd been stuck. The poison had worked through his system faster than he could consider what had happened.
Fuck fuck. Tomlin tried to force himself to fall. If he fell flat on his face that would certainly draw some concern from onlookers.
Tomlin felt the grip tighten on his shoulder, as if the scarred man had read his thoughts. He wasn't going anywhere.
When Tomlin considered this, he realized that his partner he swapped with at the western district was nowhere to be found. The military and field investigation office were all about redundancy in planning. If an investigator was given the task to follow someone then another investigator was also sent to follow the follower. Redundancy kept you one step ahead. It kept people safe. If something went wrong with a job then someone else was there to assist or report back what transpired.
Tomlin's partner was nowhere to be found.
Holy shit. Did they get him too? No, maybe he went to get help.
The investigator barely managed to swallow. He stared at the other man who maintained the genial picture of a helpful citizen.
The scarred man continued smiling as he said, “Why don't you and I have a little chat about our friend Hanlon?”
Tomlin attempted to open his mouth to speak, but all that came out was low, jumbled nonsense. His vision blurred more and only went back to brief clarity for fleeting seconds. Then the world tilted and dipped.
He thought with horror, I can't move anything. No, I can't feel anything.
His arms went limp. His body seemed to hover.
There were muted voices around him. During those brief moments of visual clarity he could see people pointing at each other and him, laughing and enjoying themselves in their intoxication.
Oh no. Oh no, he thought as he fully comprehended what was happening.
A trio of men stumbled by – two of them holding up the other between them with an arm propped over each shoulder as they roared with laughter. The man in the middle pointed a finger at him, gave a nod and then a thumbs-up as he was half-dragged off.
He heard the voice of the scarred man that held him up, “Damn, you drank way too much. Better get you home.”
No! No! Somebody, please... The investigator struggled to hold onto what little awareness he had left. All that was keeping him awake was the sheer terror.
He was turned to the side. He thought that he was struggling, maybe fighting back enough that someone would notice that he wasn't some drunk. But it was all in his head. They were nothing but phantom movements.
Then he was facing one of the alleys. As he was drawn closer he could see the faint outline of someone else waiting in the darkness.
He felt nothing at all now.
When they entered the shadows, he was grabbed by the ankles and lifted up. Through his fading vision he saw the pulsing of light that he knew were stars.
The stars and muted colors of the enclosing buildings vanished.
Hanlon rested his hand on the two documents and slid them across to Ash's side of the table. The fox woman stared at them with a conflicted expression before turning the first one over. Her eyes moved deliberately back and forth as she carefully examined every word. She went back to the beginning of the document and scanned over it again. She moved to the second one and analyzed it in similar fashion, but Hanlon noticed that she checked it an extra time. She turned the papers over and rested her hands flat on the table.
"Is it acceptable?" Hanlon asked. He made a motion with his hands to mirror her but opted to lace his fingers instead.
Ash bit her lower lip. "It seems perfectly legit. You said someone owed you a debt?"
Hanlon nodded. "I was just a normal field investigator right after the war. I've had nearly twenty years of experience to establish connections. Thanks to a friend, I built small bridges within the Spire. My former captain found a decent seat in politics as well. The rest is history."
"I'll just take your word for it," Ash said. She nodded to Kureha who stood behind her. The wolf girl had her usual nervous expression in the presence of Hanlon with the serving tray gripped tight and pressed in front of her.
Ash turned back to Hanlon. "Do you have the blueprints for the Citizens' Archive?"
"I do," Hanlon said. "But it would be a bad idea to walk around the city with something like that. I trust that this place is relatively secure, but we will be poring over it for a decent amount of time. I brought your copy of the citizenship papers just in case something happened in the interim and as a show of trust.
“It would be safer for us to rent a meeting room at the Guild Union. After all, we have a mutual contact there that can give us plenty of warning in case of any hiccups."
Ash nodded in understanding. She obviously knew about the receptionist, Kaede. If not for her, these meetings would probably never have occurred in the first place. And even if they did somehow, it would've been far too late.
“I can't get the information on this archer unless I have a name,” Ash said. “That information is redacted on adventuring documents meant for the public, and you also mentioned at our previous meeting that your Field Investigation Office took the originals as so-called evidence for a separate case.”
Hanlon leaned back in a more relaxed posture. It was usually meant as a gesture of fully opening up to an individual during an interview or interrogation to put the other person at ease. In this case, it was more for himself.
He didn't need to spell it out for Ash. It was obvious that there was no case that involved those adventuring documents. Someone high up, who was obviously at the level of Field Chief, was pulling some strings to keep those documents out of the hands of certain individuals – which included a certain field master. Hanlon had already confirmed that adventurers were being killed, thanks to Evan McCarthy's tip. The name of the archer was conveniently being pulled out of his reach. Without the name they couldn't get what they needed on his background at the Archive. The person who benefited from this was Altham Volkest.
Fucking bastard has his grip on at least one field chief in the FIO, Hanlon thought. It's a good thing I kept my people at arm's length.
It was likely that a field chief would also override any orders that Hanlon gave to his people. It would be even easier to keep his orders in place while diverting the information to another party.
“The Guild Union is an organization with assets and security that rivals a government,” Hanlon explained to Ash. "A well-coordinated organization will hold multiple copies of documents pertaining to their business. First, there are the documents with redacted information to maintain privacy of individuals while also providing useful information to adventurers. More information means keeping their adventurers alive. Then there are copies that would obviously be taken by outside parties within the law. In this case: the FIO. Any good business always wants to have documents on file in their archive at all times, so the last copies are heavily restricted.”
Ash gave a smile that briefly took him by surprise. “I see. And our mutual contact told you about this.”
“That's correct,” Jin answered.
“And I assume she has a way to access these files and can find a name for us?”
“She already has.”
Ash looked to Kureha again, who was now wearing the biggest look of relief. It actually warmed Jin's heart to know that he was accomplishing something for a person so innocent. Mutual benefits aside, he could mark it down as another good deed done in his life.
"We will meet again at the Guild Union in three days. That should be enough time to scope out the floors I have access to at the Citizens' Archive," Hanlon said. "I should also have the guard rotations by then as well."
Hanlon didn't like executing an operation under these circumstances. It required meticulous planning, but time wasn't necessarily on their side. He would have to leave the rest in Ash's hands.
Alphonse's legs screamed as he ascended the stairs outside the Guild Union building in La'abrine.
Mina had lied to him. She'd said that the training would mostly focus on his abilities with perception and interpretation. Well, in the middle of those exercises she had decided that another bout was in order. Actually, several bouts, which almost had Kirie and Asa charging in to defend him again.
He chuckled through his pain and fatigue as he pictured the two beastkin jumping through the foliage out of nowhere to his rescue with tails straight up and practically hissing through their teeth. It should have been obvious that it was just another sparring session, but they were just so protective that they couldn't help themselves.
Alphonse had done well. Exceptionally well according to Mina. It was true that he received some training at the facility on Earth, but his most valuable experiences came from the teachings of his father. As far as natural talent was concerned, Mina was convinced he possessed a latent ability that surpassed most. She went out of her way to mention that she also didn't believe it was due to his stats. It was all because of him as a person. Something about that explanation warmed Alphonse – knowing that it wasn't because of something giving him an edge that the System provided. It was true that he needed to work hard through training and combat in order to receive that extra boost from the System, but knowing that there were qualities and abilities he honed outside of it felt much more rewarding.
Alphonse pushed open the double doors to the Guild Union and observed the entrance hall that was a near-perfect copy of the one in Forgedalk, albeit slightly smaller in scale and grandeur.
It was time for the daily check-in to see if the missive had arrived that the spellcaster Bevka had mentioned in his quest document.
As per usual, Alphonse made a careful assessment of his surroundings as he padded silently down the red carpet leading to the reception desk. It was quiet today. There were a few adventurers at the standing tables winding down after a quest and a few other groups wearing informal outfits.
At one of the standing tables near the desk was a middle-aged man wearing what Alphonse thought was a dark business suit, but the waistcoat and gilt buttons of the man's attire didn't fit with the image. His tie was tucked at mid-level, shoes finely polished and a quill with a clip was just barely discernible underneath the suit attached to the waistcoat.
Damn, Alphonse thought. Not many people dressed that clean.
He wondered if this person was one of those foreign, higher beings of power known as "managers" that ran the many Guild Union branches. Perhaps it was a member of the nobility, but something about the outfit still seemed more strict and ceremonial compared to elegant and distinguished.
As Alphonse was about to reach the reception desk, he was stopped when he heard the husky voice of the well-dressed man at the standing table.
"Pardon my intrusion," the man said. He straightened, turned towards Alphonse and clasped his gloved hands behind him as he spoke.
Alphonse stared at the man warily for a moment and turned fully towards him as well. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Are you perhaps Mister Evan McCarthy of GRIM?" the man asked.
"I am."
The man unclasped his hands, took a slight step back and bent forward in a formal bow with a hand held to his chest. "A pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Matthias Dellevue, head butler to the Stryken Estate in direct service of Lady Katerina Stryken. I was hoping you would allow me to infringe upon your time for a moment."
Alphonse made a show of narrowing his eyes a bit to show that he wasn't particularly fazed by the introduction. Internally, he was positively ecstatic and terrified at the same time.
"I'm not busy," Alphonse said.
Matthias gestured to the space across from him at the standing table. Alphonse took up his position and rested a hand on the edge of the table.
"Once again, it is truly a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister McCarthy," Matthias said. "My Lady has caught wind of your guild's achievements and is thoroughly impressed by the quality business you have conducted."
Alphonse nodded. "We do our best."
Alphonse was about to say more, but he clamped his mouth shut as nothing else came to mind. Usually, it was customary to say something else in this situation, but he wasn't used to conducting business with someone so mannerly. He couldn't think of anything more to elaborate on his statement.
Matthias smiled, and Alphonse realized that his lacking response wasn't taken as rude or standoffish.
"Mister McCarthy," Matthias said. "I will get straight to the point since the details of the request are better explained in person. Your previous work and skill set are requisite for one of My Lady's business ventures near the Eastern Barrier Mountains. She would like to know if you are interested in scouting a series of recently discovered tunnel systems within the mountains. You would also be escorting an esteemed cartographer sent from Forgedalk's university."
Alphonse swallowed a bit as he processed the information. He was just starting to get used to the idea of accepting dungeon requests again. He didn't like the idea of having someone with him that he didn't know, but this would be a job too difficult to pass up. The pay was likely beyond anything that his guild had received before, but there would also be a surge in their reputation. He didn't like the idea of receiving too much attention at once.
I should at least hear the details of this job first, Alphonse thought. And I need everyone else's opinion. But holy shit! A personal request from nobility!
"When would Lady Stryken like to meet?" Alphonse asked calmly.
"As soon as possible," the butler answered.
Alphonse nodded to himself. They would of course be meeting at Katerina Stryken's estate to discuss the specifics of the job. That meant he would be in their territory. He'd heard the name of this noble family in passing and through some of his reading, but they were only brief glimpses into their affairs. The nobility of La'abrine had a much better reputation with its citizens compared to many in Forgedalk since the nobility of the port city was more interactive and even partially integrated with the general populace. But he needed to look into the family's history and their recent practices. Alphonse figured he could grab Asa and perhaps someone else to analyze the information with him. With some help he wouldn't leave Lady Stryken waiting too long.
"Would two days be acceptable?" Alphonse asked.
The butler pressed his hands into the table a bit and wore a half-smile of bemusement. "I assume you will be taking this time to research."
Alphonse didn't want to come off as offensive, and he was about to create a response when the butler chuckled lightly and raised a hand.
"No need to worry," Matthias said. "My Lady will be pleased to know that you didn't just simply jump at the opportunity. This will only serve to affirm her decision if she knows you are being reasonably cautious."
Alphonse let out a sigh of relief that was mostly hidden by his scarf.
Matthias moved away from the table as a sign of finality and fell into one of his graceful bows. "Thank you for considering My Lady's offer. If it will help expedite your research -" he fished through the inside pocket of his suit and presented Alphonse with a folded document - "this material should provide all the information you need on the Stryken Estate."
Alphonse accepted the list and carefully slipped it in his pocket. "I appreciate it."
"Please present yourself at the Stryken Estate two days from now, just before sunset." Matthias turned to leave but stopped himself as another thought occurred to him. "Ah, yes. Do be sure to wear the appropriate attire. And make sure anyone else you bring is also suitably dressed."
The butler bowed again, turned on his heel and took even strides down the red carpet to the double doors of the Guild Union.
Alphonse stared after him with those last words in his head. He waited for the doors to close and glanced around to see if he had garnered any attention from the exchange. There were a few curious looks that lingered, but most just went back to their meals and conversations.
"Appropriate attire," Alphonse thought. He looked down at his scarf and scuffed leather armor. Well...shit...
Another interesting chapter
Yay! :D