Drew was now in the boxing ring with Gerald who was holding a book in his hand. It seemed old judging from how worn out the pages were. They were even turning a disgusting yellow color as the paper edges were beginning to fray. 

"This, " He punctuated, "is a massive Combat Manual containing all of the Winter family's exclusive Techniques related to their Ice Otrio. As the Wind Otrio in your body is considered 'normal' for all races you only need to use the Techniques taught at Star to control it. Your Ice Otrio is another story as it's unique to the Snowhawk descent. Thus, you need special Techniques exclusive to Snowhawks to do so and they are all in this Manual." 

"That kind of makes me question why they compiled it all in one book..." Drew commented. 

"Well, no else can use these Techniques besides those of the Winter Family as their bloodline is different than normal Snowhawks. You may have noticed that when the ethereal wings on your back appeared after you unlocked your bloodline." 

Drew stretched out his arms. 

"Yeah, I did. But how come my wings only span up to my elbows?" 

"That's because you've just awoken your bloodline. As your control of your Ice Otrio grows stronger, so do your wings, it's a direct correlation. Your wings are a symbol of your power as a Snowhawk. Eventually, once your wings become fully developed, you will soon be able to undergo full-body transformation meaning that you can shift from Humanoid to Snowhawk and vice versa. This also applied with your Nightengale form." 

"But why didn't I see any ethereal wings despite being in my Nightengale form most of the time?"

"Nightengales are considered Low Tiered Avains so they are not as powerful as a Snowhawk and thus don't have ethereal wings but like many Avains, they have access to a full-body transformation. Unfortunately, that is not available to you until you become C-Rank."

"Why is everything C-Rank?" Drew whined. 

Gerald laughed. "C-Rank is where a Genetic Warrior becomes a true Warrior. It's the point of no return. Once you embark on the path, you can't get off of it. It's an unwritten rule but C-Rank is also the stage where a Warrior's most powerful Abilities are unlocked. Once you reach that Rank, you will not gain any more Abilities, only Subsidiary Abilities to supplement the existing ones." 

"Why is that?"

Gerald glanced down at the ground.

"No one truly knows the answer to that but they believe it has to do with the Realm above ours, it's a stumping mystery that not even science can explain after thousands of years."

"I see..." Drew nodded. It seems no matter how advanced technology is or how much science has progressed, there are still questions that puzzle even the most brilliant minds. "Well, what's technique will I be learning from that Manual?" 

Gerald flipped through the Manual, each page as delicate as a feather until he stopped at a 'random' page. 

"This," He pointed handing the Manual over to Drew. "It is a basic meditation technique similar to one Mathis taught you." 

"The hand positions are different though..." Drew noticed making the comparison. 

"Of course, however, this technique won't work when you are in Nightengale form. You have to be in your Snowhawk form in order for it to work." 

"It makes sense. The DNA of a Nightengale is different than that of a Snowhawk. It seems that when I'm in my Nightengale form, my Snowhawk DNA turns off and vice versa when I switch to my Snowhawk form." 

"You catch on quick, Young Master." Gerald laughed impressed with Drew's quick observation skills. 

Drew continued. "However, just because I'm in one form, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm restricted to my Abilities related to that form. This means that I'm able to utilize all my Abilities in both forms. That's rather convenient." 

"Indeed. Since Snowhawks also have an Otrio affinity for Wind, you are not restricted to just your Ice Otrio in this form. Additionally, Wind and Ice Otrio is not a rare combination in many races. As such, no one would suspect a thing. Your only problem is not revealing that you can use Ice Otrio in your Nightengale form." 

"I think I can do that. I'm pretty accustomed to only using my Wind Otrio so I don't think I'll have a problem with continuing that around the people I know but I feel bad that I'm deceiving them-" 

"Young Master," Gerald interrupted. "I believe that when you are strong enough, you'll be given a chance to reveal who you truly are. Not all secrets can remain secrets forever." 

"Thanks, Gerald," Drew said feeling a little better. "But, I need to get to that point don't I?" 

"Of course," Gerald bowed. "If it's the Young Master's wish, then I shall comply." 

"Very well, I will begin by stabilizing my Ice Otrio," Drew announced as he sat down in the middle of the boxing ring cross-legged. 

"Would you like me to recite the instructions?" Gerald offered. 

"No need. The instructions are simple enough to understand. Later down the line, I might require your assistance." Drew brushed off his offer closing his eyes while clasping his hands in the middle of his body similar to a peaceful Buddha. 

"As you wish," Gerald bowed, leaving the ring to prepare a towel and a water bottle. 

With Gerald out of the ring, Drew focused on gathering the Otrio around him to his Core, isolating the chilling Ice Otrio particles from the Wind Otrio particles. He could feel the Ice Otrio in his visualized Core whirling around in a torrent, violently spinning in an unstable manner shaking up the whole Core. It seemed as though it would collapse, burst, at any moment. If it did, it would cripple Drew and god knows how long it would take him to recover from a set back like that. This scared him and the fear generated from this also motivated him to solidify his Ice Otrio even faster. Now that he had visualized his Core, Drew could move on to the next step. Breaking apart his clasped hands, his palms already sweating, Drew formed two rings, one on each hand with his thumb and his index finger. Next, he joined both of his middle fingers and his thumbs together while flaring out his ring and pinky fingers. If one turned their head in the right direction, it would seem as Drew formed a bird's head. 

Gerald watched this from the sidelines without a trace of concern on his face. Instead, a large smile curled on his face. This kind of learning speed could rival Geniuses but it was a shame that Drew's Otrio talent was only slightly above average. However, if he had access to all the resources the Winters possessed back in their prime, he could be walking amongst those Geniuses. However, this was better. At such a young age, Drew had gone through many hardships that a person from the upper echelons wouldn't understand and that had shaped him to become a better person, one who was driven to accomplish his goal. One who had nothing and desired to accomplish something. One who had conviction. It reminded him of the previous Master in his younger days. 

"He's your son, no doubt about that..." Gerald muttered under his breath.     

Meanwhile, in Drew's trance, the torrent of Ice Otrio particles began to settle, his restless Core calming down substantially as the particles attached themselves to the Core, letting it expand at an astonishing rate. Unlike the other times he tried to gather Otrio, his chest did burn. Instead, there was a surge of cool energy that channeled into his abdomen. It was refreshing making Drew feel as if he could fly! Opening his eyes, Drew unleashed the Otrio from his body. The ethereal wings he hadn't seen since he broke into E-Rank had reappeared but this time, they seemed to have grown larger. Their chilling aura emitting stronger than before. The frosty ethereal tips freezing the floor of the ring creating a thin layer of ice. The frozen fractals building upon each other slowly. It seems he had succeeded in stabilizing his Ice Otrio. 

"Good work, Young Master." Gerald bowed handing Drew a towel and the water. Drew still couldn't get himself adjusted to Gerald's behavior towards him.

Drew stepped out of the ring, retracting his wings, gladly accepting the towel to wipe off the perspiration that had built upon his neck. "Thank you, Gerald. How long was out for?" 

"One hour and ten minutes. It seems your progress was faster than I predicted." Gerald replied. 

Drew nodded snapping his fingers together. 

"Good." 

In the next moment, a small shard of translucent ice hovered above Drew's palm but this time, it didn't shatter into a million pieces like last time. Knowing that his Otrio was stable, Drew attempted to move the ice shard around, allowing it to dance on his fingertips. This was completely out of Gerald's expectations. To be able to create a stable shard upon stabilizing his Otrio on his first try, even the previous master took five tries before he could create one. On top of that, to move that ice shard requires incredible Otrio control which takes a lot of practice. Gerald knew Drew's Otrio control was incredible from Mathis but he didn't expect it to be this good. Unbelievable! He was watching a monster be born in front of his eyes. Even the little assistance he had provided in this last hour, he didn't think the Young Master would have been able to learn the technique that fast. Incredible! The Young Master was a fast learner, an extremely fast learner. If this keeps up, he could potentially surpass the former Master in a decade, no less! This was the greatest 'assignment', honor, old Gerald could've received in all his years serving the Winters. He was moved. 

Gerald began to cry. God, that was scary.

"Gerald," Drew began watching him break up, "is everything okay?" 

"Nothing, Young Master." He said wiping away the tears that have welled in his eyes. He was not going to let any minute go to waste with assisting this Young Master. He swore to himself that he would take him to the top, to help him accomplish his goals, no matter what the cost was. "Shall we proceed with your Basic Strength training?" 

"Please do." Drew accepted hanging the towel off the side of the ring. 

>>>

"That'll be all for our lessons today." Gerald clapped. 

As Drew collapsed on his back. That 'Basic Strength' training Gerald had put him through was not basic at all. Gerald took note of Drew's weak spots and worked him to death on nearly every one. He felt sore all over his body. Even though he went through an entire six months of One P*nchman workout, it was nothing compared to the hell Gerald put him through. He even utilized automated dummies to stimulate Genetic Warriors of D-Class. Gerald wasn't kidding when he said the training would be difficult. However, thanks to that, Drew felt as though he had grown stronger. Did Gerald pull some weird Earth acupuncture on him while he programmed those dummies?   

As he thought of this, Gerald came back with a cup of freshly brewed tea and placed it besides Drew. 

"Young Master, this is Bluebell Tea. It will energize your body in the shortest amount of time." 

"And how short is that?" Drew huffed pulling himself off the ground. 

"Five minutes," Gerald replied looking proud of himself. 

"What kind of drugs did you put in this thing!" Drew asked nearly spitting out the tea. 

"Hohoho, I used to give this to the previous Master when he was in the same state you are now. He said the exact same thing." 

"I would agree with him," Drew scoffed feeling the tea relax his muscles rather quickly. In an instant, Drew felt a large chunk of his energy recover. His Otrio that was depleted had recovered at the speed of...yes. 

"It's almost time Position Classes finish. You should get going, Young Master. Make sure to be back here as soon as dinner is over." 

"I will," Drew replied grabbing his bag. 

Gerald bowed. 

"It seems you are ready for your 'first' task. I will give it to you once you get back. In the meantime, have a good meal, Young Master."

"I will," Drew said adjusting his hat, "I'll see you soon." 

>>>

Once Drew finished dinner at the dining halls and the group went their separate ways. Drew swiftly made his way to the station, back to Yerburn where Gerald had pulled out another trunk from the training room below. Where does he even get all these trunks?

Gerald placed the trunk on the ground making a deafening sound that rang in Drew's ears as he arrived.

"Young Master, in here, some items I have prepared for your first task. These were delivered directly from the Borealis."  

Drew approached the trunk, taking the initiative to open it. Inside, there was a red blazer lined with silver fabric, a white dress shirt, a maroon tie with a silver pin in the shape of a Borealis tree, a black vest,  black dress pants which were hemmed with the same silver fabric as the blazer, black dress shoes, a leather waist pouch similar to one Drew uses to carry his Compressed Armory, and a silver steel mask with a hole open for his left eye. There were some other miscellaneous items in there including an ID card and a deck of playing cards. 

"Thanks to my connection, I was able to get you a broker position rather easily so that'll save you about a month. The items in here are your uniform and some equipment you'll need for your duration there. I've already informed my contact that we'll be there in an hour." 

Drew picked up his ID, studying the information on it. For a fake ID, it was sure realistic. 

"Your name will be Brandon Ashford and your ID number is 3960. Remember both of those, you cannot let your true identity slip out. Also-" Gerald tossed Drew a beige wig and some colored contacts. "Don't forget to wear these every time you go to the Borealis." 

"I won't," Drew chuckled pulling out his uniform. "I'll be done in ten minutes." 

>>>

Ten minutes later, Drew had finished changing. He could almost not recognize himself. The only thing that bore any resemblance to his original appearance was his facial structure but that didn't matter as his face would be covered by the mask as he worked. Putting it on his face, Drew felt the mask to be rather comfortable, fitting his face quite nicely as he looped the strings attached to the mask around his ears. Surprisingly, the mask did not hinder his right eye's vision despite its exterior covering it completely. A moment later, Drew saw a screen pop up right in front of him. 

"What is this?" Drew asked Gerald who was standing behind him as he admired his new appearance in front of the mirror. 

"The mask is connected to the Borealis information database and your thoughts. As you conduct transactions, the mask will allow you to sort through specific information that the client is looking for in an instant. The mask cannot be hacked and is untraceable by all means, this helps with keeping the identity of each broker a secret." 

"They sure are careful," Drew said touching the mask. 

"Of course," Gerald replied stroking his chin. "They wouldn't be number one on Kraus for nothing. Now, shall we head off?" 

"Please do." 

>>>

Weaving their way through the dark back alleys of Yerburn, Gerald slowly navigated Drew to ensure that he'd memorize the route to the Borealis. In order to ensure that each broker's identity is hidden, the Borealis order that all their brokers enter the casino through various means. Some brokers will blend in with the night traffic, others would enter from the back routes which are deeply connected to the labyrinth of alleyways in Yerburn. For Drew, he was assigned to enter from a specific route winding through the alleyways. As he had only been to Yerburn several times, his knowledge of the area was limited but with the help of Gerald and his navigation skills as a Scout, Drew easily memorized the route. 

Winding around a few more corners, the duo had finally made it to the back door of the Borealis which was concealed by a fake cement wall. Pushing the area, a small door opened allowing the duo to covertly make their way inside the casino. According to Gerald, this door would eject them out into the office of the head of Crow's Eye and that the route they were taking was one of his main escape paths. 

Trudging through the darkness of the pathway, the duo reached a dead end in which Gerald slightly pushed open revealing a lavish office space. The space itself was illuminated brightly by the bell-shaped lamps that decorated the marble columns lining the walls of the office. A glass chandelier hung from the ceiling dangling by only a chain. Victorian styled sofas sat on top of the velvet carpet where glass coffee tables were placed at their side. At the farthest end of the room, there was a dark middle-aged man sitting behind a wooden desk scrolling through a holographic screen. The man had some sort of feline ears on top of his head and a golden mane that had flared out like the sun. 

Hearing the door to one of his escape routes open, the man jolted out of his seat his ears twitching in the direction the door opened from. His holographic screen shut off immediately. From the side of his desk, he drew a can, pointing it towards the duo who had emerged from it. 

"You paranoia still hasn't changed you brat." Gerald laughed as the middle-aged man set his cane down his body still shaking with fear. This sent shivers down Drew's spin. "To think the Feline I raised was still a cub. What have you been doing these last thirty years, Neilson?" 

"Te...Teacher?" He stuttered as he shakily walked over to greet him. 

As he approached Gerald, he immediately kowtowed on the ground, revering Gerald as if he were a god. 

"Um..." Drew interrupted. "Who is this?" 

"Hoho, this is the head of Crow's Eye, Neilson Moore," Gerald replied before punching the man on the head. 

"What!" Drew exclaimed looking at this sorry looking soul of a middle-aged man who was kneeling on the ground like a child asking for mercy. 

Gerald turned back to the head of Crow's Eye.

"Neilson, I thought I trained you better than that?" 

"You did...so what brings you here today?" Neilson asked with a quiver in his voice, hoping for Gerald not to punish him.

"I thought I had informed you that I have someone for you to train earlier today?" Gerald said impatiently. 

Neilson looked up at the youth clad in the very Borealis uniform behind his teacher. 

"Is this him?" Nelson asked trembling. 

"Yes, make sure to beat all your knowledge into him. If you don't, you know the consequences..." 

"Of course, Teacher!" He screamed wanting Gerald to leave. "I won't fail you." 

"Good." Gerald nodded. "I will take my leave. Treat the kid well, he's a fast learner so don't go easy on him. Understood?" 

Neilson nodded his head understanding every last word. 

With that Gerald turned around, leaving Drew in front of kneeling Neilson. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds between them as Gerald shut the pathway door, giving Neilson a death glare as he did. When the door shut with a resounding 'bang', Neilson finally pushed himself off the ground looking as though his life had just been spared. The large Feline was two heads taller than Drew and a whole lot burlier. He seemed as though he could squash Drew like a bug but seeing him act like a frightened child in front of Gerald, that ruined that image for Drew. What kind of things did Gerald put him through to make him have terrible PTSD when seeing him. 

"Um..." Drew took the initiative to break the silence. "Mr. Moore..." 

"Ay, just call me Senior Neilson." He said as he grabbed Drew's shoulders, his hands shaking. "We're both pupils of Gerald Griffin. As your Senior, I will advise you that what comes next with him will ruin your mind a soul." 

"I don't think I want to know but I'll trust you, Senior..." Drew laughed nervously not wanting to know what comes next.

"Good, now Teacher said he wanted me to train you. I don't want to get beat up later so I'll make this quick. You'll be working here at the Borealis for the next half year. In the meantime, you will acquire the skills for being a fine Businessman and an excellent Scout. I will have you shadow me for this first day, watch and learn." 

"Understood." Drew nodded. 

A knock from the grand double doors averted both men's attention. Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket, Senior Neilson fixed himself up for the incoming guest. His aura changed from one of a welcoming Senior to one of a ferocious beast. His golden eyes narrowed as he sat comfortably on a Victorian sofa, getting ready to welcome his client. Now, he looked like the feared successful tycoon he was renowned as instead of the cowering middle-age man he was a minute ago. 

"As a Businessman, you must adjust yourself for the occasion. You should never let the other side see you 'sweat'. Take advantage of the other side's mental state if you see them break. You don't want them to hold the upper end of the deal." He advised Drew as he ordered the doormen to let his client in. 

Drew stood behind Senior Neilson, folding his arms behind his back, watching as the first client of the night walks into the room. He was a high roller, a regular at the Borealis, and a man with deep pockets. 

"Welcome again Mr. Gringe." He welcomed gesturing to the seat of honor in front of him, setting the mood for this very transaction. "What is it that you are seeking to gain, from the Crow's Eye?" 

"I seek information on the Heartman Foundation?" 

"Oh," Senior Nelson chuckled folding one leg over the other, probing his arm up on the side of the sofa. "and whom or what do you desire this information on?" 

The high roller, Mr. Gringe, shot up like a stalk. Drew watched. He was blinking faster than a normal person. His breathing was heavy, but he tried to maintain his composure, it was quite evident that he couldn't. His hands were clenched tightly. Sweat trickled down the side of his face, it was one drop but it was a sign. His left heel, although it was subtle, it was tapping. He was stiff. He was nervous. Senior Neilson should have noticed this by now. 

"Specifically," Mr. Gringe gulped, "I want information on Zachary Heartman's latest transactions, whereabouts, and schedule. As for the reason, it's the same as most of your clients..." 

"I understand. You are aware that this information is rather pricy. Many of our own have died trying to obtain this info. Even if you had the information, do you think you would be able to assassinate Mr.Heartman so easily? On. Your. Own?" 

"No, which is why I'm asking for it..." Mr. Gringe trailed. There were hints of desperation in his eyes.  

Senior Neilson smirked, "If that's what you want, then we'll discuss the price."  

Drew understood what this meant. This negotiation would go smoother than predicted. 

Senior Nelson held up his hand, all five fingers outstretched. 

"Fifty Million take it or leave it." Senior Neilson said, bearing his fangs at High Roller Mr. Gringe. 

"Thirty." Mr. Gringe retorted. "I'll pay the remaining twenty once I'm done." 

"You seem confident." 

Mr. Gringe was taken aback by this statement. "Of course, I've made the necessary preparations." 

"But how far do you think those preparations will take you? Don't you want something that could increase your chances? This information was obtained by risking quite a few lives. I'd say Fifty is a good deal considering what you are getting yourself into." 

It seems Mr. Gringe didn't think this thoroughly. Drew knew what Senior Neilson was trying to imply. Mr. Gringe believed that he could fool Senior Neilson by giving him a 'down payment' of Thirty Million and then 'pay' the remaining twenty later when in actuality, once he received this information and accomplished his goal he would flee. Mr. Gringe thought he had the advantage in this deal, acting all timid and all and trying to hid his hand. However, before he could even play, Senior Neilson had seen through his moves. His hand had been exposed the moment he stepped into this room. 

Mr. Gringe couldn't think of any way out. He was in 'check' but not quite 'checkmate'. He still had one last card up his sleeve. 

"I believe I can succeed. I've watched others attempt it. With the files, I can guarantee that I can pay you back." 

"That is if you make out alive? You know that no survives Mr. Heartman once they are caught. Do you think you would fare better than those who've attempted with similar information?" 

"That's-" Mr. Gringe was at a loss for words. It was true that many others who've tried to assassinate Mr. Heartman have been killed but were any of them even close to killing him? No! They all died before they could even step through the front door. It was as if Mr. Heartman knew all of their plans in advance...unless he was given the information from Senior Neilson about his opponents' plans then paid him extra for confidentiality. Yes...that was the only plausible explanation. If so, however much Heartman paid him to keep silent, it wouldn't compare to the Thirty Million he originally planned to pay. The extra Twenty Million was for confidentiality. 

Senior Neilson utilized Mr. Gringe's fear of being caught by Heartman, manipulating his thoughts with those questions. How terrifying. Drew thought, watching this spectacle before his very eyes. 

"Fine..." Mr. Gringe sighed in defeat. "I concede." 

"Well," Senior Neilson grinned, revealing his sharp canines. "Fifty Million and the deal is closed." 

Mr. Gringe had a bitter expression on his face. He had lost. The title of the head of Crow's Eye wasn't for show but he wasn't even a Crow he was a Lion. A terrifying, man-eating, Lion. That was Senior Neilson. 

With the sound of a 'ring' on his communication device, the Fifty Million Kalas had entered into the Crow's Eye's account, and an encrypted file had been sent to Mr. Gringe's with all the information he asked for. The deal had been settled. 

"Thank you for conducting business with us. We hope to see you again. That is, if you survive..." Senior Neilson said sending off Mr. Gringe from the room. 

"Will do," he spat silently as the doors shut behind him. "WILL. DO." 

Drew was amazed. His visible left eye widened in admiration of Senior Neilson. 

Senior Neilson turned to Drew, looking at him earnestly. 

"Now, it's your turn."