After reading the letter, Drew immediately departed for the station. It was currently 3 o'clock and Drew had about five hours before he had to be back. Right now, he was heading off to the Yerburn District about a ten-minute air train commute away.

>>>

The Yerburn District is also known as Ozwarth's Red Light District, home to Ozwarth's major bars, brothels, casinos, and organized crime. If you are wondering, why the heck is most of Ozwarth's major crime and illegal activities centered in one place where the authorities can easily round everyone up and arrest them? Well you see, the Gangs in Yerburn have so much influence there that even the authorities that patrol the area are so corrupt. If they find a guy raping a woman, they would actually go in to join. The authorities that work there are merely the eyes and ears of these large gangs on the surface and with a bit of bribery and some string-pulling, they have control of virtually the whole security network there. These gangs also have officers in other Districts meaning they can do their shady business in broad daylight without worrying about being caught since someone on the inside will bail them out.

>>>

Drew was a bit nervous as he embarked on the train. He was heading into the most dangerous part of Ozwarth to meet Gerald Griffin, the man who's loyalty is unquestionable towards his family and the former head of the Griffin Family. But first thing's first, he had to make it there and out in one piece. He would be amazed if he could make it there without losing a limb, after all, he has heard some horror stories from the other cooks during his time in the soup kitchen. Just the thought of these stories sent chills down his spine.

Minutes passed and Drew had finally arrived at Yerburn Station. As he disembarked the cabin, he observed some of the people who also got off at this station. Some of them were sketchy looking gangsters with four or five piercings along with one ear or tattoos of ferocious-looking beasts that spiraled around their bodies. Some even had firearms concealed within their clothing, their silver linings reflecting the light filtering from above. 

Others were wealthy-looking teens, around his age, with one or two girls wrapped under their arms, their faces full of disgusting expressions. Ones of thirst and greed. The kind that was full of lust, their faces steaming as their girls' voluptuous breast pressed against their arms and chest. Some of them were on the verge of having erectile disfunction while others had their boners sticking out of their flies ready to jump on them like a tiger waiting to feast on its prey. Drew wanted to hurl at this sickening behavior. Do they have any decency? From the looks of it, no. 

The girls under their arms all had one thing in common, they were all prostitutes, wearing only enough to cover their private parts while leaving too much exposed for men to lust over them. Drew didn't blame them. Drew knew that they were all trying to find a way to crawl out this hellhole of a place, even if that meant doing despicable things or sacrificing their virginity. They were all desperate for some wealthy man to pull them out of their misery, a ray of hope, from their poverty. He felt a sort of connection with them but the way they are trying to escape their darkness did not sit well with him. If you are going to climb, you might as well do it the right way, the honest way, however, Drew knew that was impossible for most of these have-nots. That was just his wishful thinking. 

Emerging from the station, Drew found himself in the middle of a stone-paved plaza. Even though it was still early, there were a lot of people, most likely getting ready for the sleepless night ahead. Enclosing the plaza, multistoried buildings lined with various lights and lanterns decorated the area with stairs leading into narrow alleyways between each one, concealing the shady business that is conducted below the bright surface.

Recalling Uncle Winter's letter, Drew glanced over to his left and counted five alleyways before moving. Drew hurried down the stairway of the fifth alleyway into the pitch-black darkness, even though it was still bright outside. Smaller shops and services lined the stairway as Drew progressed. Noticing that it was too dark for anyone to see, Drew snapped his fingers, switching from his Nightengale form to his Snowhawk form knowing that it'll be easier for Gerald to identify him once he arrived without him taking out the Compressed Armory. After all, this was Yerburn and anything valuable seen could be easily stolen or killed for. Even Glass Road, as scummy as it looks, was safer than Yerburn by leaps and bounds.  

After switching forms, Drew had also noticed that his sight had been greatly enhanced. He could see each door as clear as day. Not even a cockroach could escape his vision in this darkness. Now able to see the doors a lot clearer, Drew scanned each door number realizing that he had passed 5790 a few doors ago. Marching back the way he came, Drew had finally arrived at 5790 Bridgeway Rd. It was actually a corner unit that sat at the intersection of two alleyways that sat right under Yerburn's sky bridges many meters above. 

Drew muttered to himself as he looked at 5790 which was called the 'Tavern'.

"No wonder why it's called Bridgeway Road." 

Pushing open the door, Drew found himself being welcomed by a dimly lit full house of shady looking thugs who were all smoking weed and chugging down bottles of alcohol. None of them seeming to mind his presence. Rows of billiard tables lined the main room while a bar was situated along the opposite wall and Drew could witness multiple games occurring at once. Towards the entrance, shelves of neatly organized cue sticks leaned against the wall where a vintage jukebox with songs from thousands of years ago was playing giving the area a refined atmosphere. Drew scanned the area noticing the thugs had paid no mind to his intrusion. If this were anywhere else in Ozwarth, Drew could have been arrested since he's still a minor but this was Yerburn. Anything illegal was legal. There were no rules, only gangs.

Drew made his way over to the bar area, where most of the seats were taken, a wooden long wooden countertop that spanned almost the whole length of the bar with leather high chairs for seating. Behind the counter, a good looking white-haired old man wearing a gold-rimmed monocle on his right eye was polishing glass cups with a white cloth to the point where each one could reflect the very little light emitted in the room like a flashlight. Behind the old man, shelves of colorful alcohol beverages arranged in color order, from red to indigo, lined the wall where a large mirror divided the shelves in the middle. 

Drew took a seat at the farthest end of the bar closest to the staff room in the back. As he pulled out the chair, the old man began to approach him, placing down the towel and glass he was polishing on the bar counter. He was the first one to initiate the conversation. 

"What can I get you?" He asked in a gentle tone. 

Drew removed his hat, revealing his ice blue hair and amber hawk eyes giving the old man an ice glare, unintentionally. The old man, flinched as if he saw something he shouldn't. 

"A Snowhawk..." He continued picking up the glass he was polishing earlier. "I haven't seen one in years...there aren't many here in Ozwarth..." 

Suddenly, Drew's eyes widened. This old man was asking for a password! But this phrase, it sounded oddly familiar...where did he hear it? Then it came to him. Uncle Winter! In a hidden file in Uncle Winter's communication device Drew had found a few months after being with the Ryhard's, Drew remembered one of the messages Uncle Winter left. He knew the answer to this!

"Snow and ice as cold as the Winter, frost upon the mountain's top where the frozen fractal survived. A never melting piece of ice glimmering in the endless night." He answered with confidence facing the old man whose face had frozen on the spot, causing him to drop the glass in his hand. Letting it shatter on the ground. The sound of it made every head in the bar avert their attention towards him. The next thing that happened, was unexpected. 

"Everyone get out!" The old man roared slamming his hand on the bar countertop, leaving a nice handprint in it causing a couple of thugs sitting nearby to spill their drinks. "I said...get the hell out of here now!" 

Scurrying as if they were rats, everyone rushed out of the bar with not one person left behind. In a few seconds, the bar was completely empty. As soon as there was silence, the old man looked up at Drew his aura completely changing to one of hostility as if he let wild dogs out of their cages. The pressure exerted from him made Drew's body tremble. He felt as if all the oxygen in the room was replaced with carbon dioxide. It was suffocating.

"How did you know the answer?" He asked impatiently. 

Drew, knowing that he was alone, fished out the Compressed Armory from his pouch while flipping his hat to its underside, reveal his father's embroidered name. He was too scared to find the words to pull out of his mouth in front of this terrifying old man who could kill him easily with a flick. 

The old man observed the two items for a straight minute before looking back at Drew who was sitting stiffly in his chair. His face, transforming from one of hostility to one of amiability as he left the bar area and came out to the main area, facing Drew. His suffocating aura retracting back into his body and Drew could feel as though he could breathe again. The old man collapsed on his knees and began to sob. Drew just watched, unsure of how to react to this scene. Who the frick watches an old man bawl out his eyes like a six-year-old?! God, that was an embarrassing thing for Drew to witness with his two eyes. Now he felt like the bad guy even though he didn't do anything. 

"Young Master!" He kowtowed as his tears poured down his face like a waterfall. "You're alive after all these years! If only this humble servant had found you earlier, it wouldn't be like this! I have failed you, Master! I didn't find the Young Master soon enough!" 

Drew was stumped. 

What the heck? This old man took a complete one-eighty! 

"Please raise your head." Drew wasn't used to this at all. It was a movie-like scenario but never would he have thought that he might experience it himself.  

The old man obeyed Drew's command, shooting up from the ground like a beanstalk. 

"Are you Gerald Griffin?"

He furiously nodded as he whipped away his tears with his sleeve. 

"That is correct Young Master! However, you may address me as Gerald. It's a pleasure seeing you after the Master and Mistress's passing. How may this servant be of assistance to the Heir de Winter?" 

Drew took out the last letter Uncle Winter had given him and handed it to Gerald who had both of his hands outstretched to receive it. Taking a look at the letter, Gerald's expression turned dark. 

"So it's already time." He muttered. " That stupid boy of mine, always risking his own life for the sake of others...I'm the last person who should be saying this...now his debt has finally been paid to the Master." 

Gerald pursed his lips. 

"What now?" Drew asked. 

"First, I'll shut down the bar. Second, it seems like I'm back in business." 

"I thought you were shutting down?" 

"Hohoho, I don't mean this 'business'. I meant the other 'business'." 

Drew had a bad feeling for what's coming next. 

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't know what happened to the Master and Mistress. You want to find the people who lead them to their deaths, I can see it in your eyes, but," He said punctuating the 'but'. "You must become 'stronger'." 

"Please elaborate." 

"You need to gain access to the peak of society. Once you've done that, you have to build your reputation and trust before striking at the perfect moment." 

"How do you propose I do that?" 

"Young Master, this isn't a plan which can be completed in a week. This is one that'll take years." 

"That is fine," Drew replied with a hint of coldness in his voice as he glared at Gerald with determination in his amber eyes. "I have patience. The bigger they are, the harder they fall." 

"Very well." Gerald bowed. "Since the Young Master has approved of this idea then we shall continue." 

Clearing the phlegm out of his throat, Gerald continued. "You must not tell anyone. No matter who it is, not even people you trust. This is for your safety as we are still unaware if there are still some enemies following us. What is discussed here shall stay here."  

"I can agree to that," Drew responded placing his father's hat back on his head and the Compressed Armory in his pocket. 

"I'm glad the Young Master understands that," Gerald commented before continuing. "This very idea of mine involves a few risky methods but they will take you the farthest in the shortest amount of time, of course, that's in years. I calculate around five years max, two years minimum depending on how fast you learn." 

Drew was expecting ten years but this was better than expected. 

"In the first month, I will train you in etiquette, the ways of being a Gentleman, while also reinforcing your mental fortitude. Additionally, I shall enhance your knowledge of Alchemy that you have learned from Mathis. We will focus on these first." 

"That sounds great and all but how am I going to accomplish this when Star is about to start classes in a few days?" 

"Hohoho," Gerald chuckled, "I'm one step ahead of you Young Master! Have you heard of the Individual Study Program?" 

>>>

The Individual Study Program allows a student attending Star to study under an outside Teacher who is qualified by Star Academic Standards. These Standards are very strict as they require the Teacher to be an A-Class Warrior or higher and proof that they are A-Class. If the Teacher passes these Standards, the student under their tutelage is exempt from some classes at Star. These classes will vary depending on what the Teacher specializes in.    

>>>

"Yes," Drew replied. "Does that mean you will be my Teacher? If so, what Class are you?" 

"That is correct, Young Master. Being the former head of the Griffin Family, I am currently a Mid S-Class Warrior. With my current knowledge and status, I predict that I can exempt you from three to four classes, mainly Position classes or electives. Of course, Young Master will still have to take his General Education courses from approximately 8:30 AM to 2:00 PM."

"You seriously don't miss a single detail there...Gerald but how can I make up an excuse to my Team?"

"Young Master is staying in the dorms if I'm not mistaken?" 

"Yeah, how did you know?" 

"It's required that all first-year students stay in the dorms regardless of proximity to the campus." 

"So you mean...since I won't have any classes with my Team after my General Education courses, I can come here and head back to campus within a good four-hour timeslot without them getting suspicious?" 

"Yes," Gerald confirmed. "But you have more than that. Because Star's campus allows students to leave campus after classes from a period of 6 PM to 2 AM you can also make use of that time to come here. In total, you have a minimum of four hours to a maximum of 12 hours if there are no setbacks in your schedule. This is also accounting for your E-Class physique where you only need five hours of sleep to be fully rested." 

Drew went into deep thought. He had to think about how to maximize his time with Gerald without drawing attention from Elias and Wan. Elias is pretty sharp so he'll jump on any suspicious movement. Suddenly, Drew had an idea for the perfect excuse.  

"I know how I could get twelve hours... with no setbacks."

"Oh," Gerald cocked his head. "What does the Young Master have in mind?" 

"A few days ago, our Team knew that the time we could spend on Requests would be greatly reduced since classes will begin and each one of us was thinking of getting a part-time job. Most of them are going to be late night shifts and no one would get back until curfew at 2 AM. It's awfully convenient." 

"It must be fate that the events are playing out in the Young Master's favor." 

"Not really," Drew admitted. "They are just strange coincidences." 

"Strange coincidences indeed. With that solved, are you sure you will be able to endure it? This training is similar to the one I put the Master through in his younger days. I will warn you that this first month will be ruthless, Young Master." 

"It's okay...I'll do it no matter what it takes," Drew responded clenching his fist tightly with determination. "If I can find out the truth and get my revenge, I will do anything to do so." 

Gerald looked at Drew with a satisfied expression. 

"Very well," he bowed, "We shall meet back after your first day of classes. I will send out the request tonight. You should be approved in a couple of days."

"Thank you, Gerald."

"It's my pleasure to serve you once again, Young Master."