20

Chapter Seven

"I hear you had a visitor," Mrs. Kiramman noted, over our regular bi-weekly dinner, Mr. Kiramman, whose opinion of me had… not improved over the years, absent, as usual, while Caitlyn sat across from me at the larger-than-needed table, though it wasn't ludicrously long.

The Councilor had turned having me over into a regular thing, with Caitlyn giving me 'Politics' lessons on how to hold oneself in proper society, something the girl was very emphatic about, as well as the dense web of interconnections that existed beneath the surface of the city, something that the teen had only partially been paying attention to under her mother's instruction about before she could now use to teach me in turn, the instruction ending with us retiring to dinner afterwards, where I would discuss developments in my work with my patron.

And at which I was subtly reminded that Mrs. Kiramman did not get to her position through birth alone.

"Yes, Councilor Medarda," I smiled. "It went… unexpectedly."

"Did it now?" the older woman questioned, subtly intrigued, prompting me to give further information without actually asking me to, as that would be seen as rude.

Smiling, I gave a brief accounting, leaving out my reasoning, though, from the older woman's amused expressions, she could divine them regardless, while the younger woman got about one move in three. From the heiress' comments as I divulged the specifics, the blue-haired teen was focusing on the more pleasant moves I'd made, as opposed to the hidden threats contained within my innocent seeming gestures.

Getting to the point where I offered to pay off the Medarda's 'loans', Caitlyn frowned, "But wouldn't… oh!" she realized, eyes widening, looking between her mother and I. "How did she take that?" the girl questioned, with scandalized interest.

"About as well as expected, though, Ms. Kiramman, something I'd appreciate your insight on," I requested, the woman not saying a word, but waving her drink in my direction, accepting the solicitation of her expertise. "It turns out the… requests, despite being on her stationary and bearing her seal, were not from Mel Medarda, but from someone else in their family."

"Wait, that's not right!" the younger Kiramman objected. "It's, it's even illegal!" Pausing, she reflected on her own statement, adding, "Though I suppose that's not entirely out of character for that family. I'm still not sure how they keep getting away with it."

Her mother frowned, lightly rebuking, "Caitlyn, we do not openly speak ill of the other Councilors."

The blue-haired girl frowned back, "But it's not Councilor Medarda that did it, it's her Clan. Besides, it's Jayce."

Considering that, Ms. Kiramman finally nodded slightly, "That is the case, but to do so in such a manner develops bad habits." Cutting off her daughter's next objection the older woman noted, "Jayce's tendency towards… uncaring candor is allowable due to his academic position and his family's position, but as the next Kiramman, there are certain expectations that both you and I have to follow. That is why Tobias' responsibilities are somewhat looser than ours."

Turning towards me, the aristocrat explained, "Councilor Medarda's position is an appointed one, by Jago Medarda, Patriarch of the Medarda Clan, who, it is my understanding, did 'not want to be bothered with bureaucratic matters'."

"'Bureaucratic matters'?" Caitlyn echoed, offended. "Guiding the future of Piltover isn't some, some chore-"

Her mother gave her a look.

"Sorry," the girl apologized, turning her gaze towards her dinner.

"So it's Jago that I'm dealing with?" I questioned, getting a grateful glance from the girl across from me for shifting the focus off of her.

Taking just a moment to give me a knowing look that stated Mrs. Kiramman was aware of what I was doing, the woman shook her head. "No, I've dealt with Jago. Had he wished for something from you, Jayce, he would have arrived personally, with the limit of his acceptable terms already outlined, take them or leave them. And, having dealt with him, it is always a coin toss if one should. But no, there are dozens upon dozens of Medardas. It could be any of them."

As I started to ask how I could narrow it down, the dark-haired woman cut me off with a slightly raised hand, "However that is, as you would say, not your problem. It is Councilor Medarda's. I believe the experience of dealing with rogue elements within her own House will be good for her. Though, I must ask, what are you doing with your personal funds, Jayce, to have the liquid capitol to pay off the Hexgate's Medarda investment?"

"Um… investing, mostly?" I responded, not aware that I'd made a mistake, as my patron's tone suggested.

Caitlyn nodded, missing the subtext, "Yes, in some of our trading ventures, and constructions, and mines."

"That is… not what I mean," Mrs. Kiramman noted. "I know you have your, your Undercity venture, but what else?"

"What else what?" I questioned, not understanding the issue.

The woman stared at me for a long moment, searching for… something, as she did, once every few months, telling me that I did, indeed, miss something that she considered so basic so as not to bear mentioning. "What are your entertainment expenditures? Your upkeep expenses. You live on our estate, but things such as food, clothing, and such do add up," she glanced at my shirt, "especially given the quality of what you wear, and how often you change your wardrobe."

I blinked, looking down at my own shirt, which was automatically created by my Pocket Dimension out of primordial chaos, and rendered back into it when I was done, having never really considered it, and, up to now, no one had commented on my threads. Though, now that I thought about it, letting my Pocket Dimension 'randomize' within limits, I probably looked like quite the clothes horse, if one who was in a race all of their own instead of chasing the latest styles.

"Oh, uh, I made it myself, as I do with my meals," I noted. "Like I do for us when we all go out to the range."

"Gaston is still trying to recreate that dish you brought last time," the Councilor mused, the concept of mini-tacos something that just didn't… fit into Piltovan cooking, with spices switched about to not overpower their Not-English palettes, Fairy Feast guiding my hands. "But why did you never mention that you were also a tailor?"

"Because I'm only passable at it, and I'm more interested in being an inventor?" I shrugged, technically not lying as I did take a tailoring Seminar in Basic, but I was an amateur, at best. Then again, my attempts to be an armorer had helped me refine my skills a little, my 'JUSTICE v2' suit much easier to move in, and with better protections, on the off-chance I'd need it, though I hoped I never would.

On a more interesting note, I'd made enough of the minor additions to my clothing that they'd formed a cohesive 'style' that my Sweet Home had 'learned', and which could now be applied to anything my Pocket Dimension created. I was aware there was room for improvement, but also that I would need to put a lot of effort into that, as well as making the higher quality alterations over and over again, until the Sweet Home 'learned' the new way of doing so, and, as I was currently at the functional level, with far, far too many things vying for my time as it was, it just wasn't worth it.

Continuing, I explained, "But with food, clothing, and shelter taken care of, and as my entertainment is my profession, my expenses are fairly low. That and the fact that I've managed to avoid most social events," I smiled, glancing towards the blue haired teen across from me, "and the expenses those accrue."

"Lucky," Caitlyn grumbled, across from me, having regaled me with the balls and such she'd been dragged to, and how much she despised them.

It was amusing that she didn't recognize the obvious jealousy of the other girls her age for what it was, putting herself on the same level as the others, not understanding why that upset the lower--stationed high-society harpies as much as it did, which, surprisingly, rendered the girl oddly friendless outside of myself, Vi, and Piper, the Kiramman heiress able to sniff out those who were only after her due to her position without thinking.

Her mother overlooked the teen's complaint, asking, "And your investments outside of our family?"

"Well, the Hexgates are making money hand over fist, especially with Piper's updated recharging array cutting down on Hexcrystal costs," I counted off my fingers. "The HALP center loses money, but most of that was in the setup, we're recouping that lost value in research-expenditures, and the fact that it's a source of… untainted sustenance in the Undercity means that, despite charging barely above cost for the meals, the ones we do charge for, it's still nearly breaking even now, and will repay the investiture in half a decade barring any incidents, but even if there were, the gain in shadow-currencies alone is well worth the loss."

"Like trust, and reputation!" Caitlyn checked, to which I nodded, the girl having been through the lessons on Manipulation 101 that I'd given Vi and Powder, even if she didn't really like the concept of doing so herself, one of the few things her and Vi found common ground on.

"As much as those people can have either," Mrs. Kiramman noted, her distaste for Zaun a constant. "But what else?"

Considering my portfolio… "That's it. Everything is tied up in the Hexgate, the HALP Center, or your ventures. I trust your business acumen, so I haven't seen need to invest elsewhere."

Caitlyn smiled at that, while Mrs. Kiramman gave me an incredulous look. "You are aware that the impression that such a decision gives, yes?"

"That I trust you? Of course," I nodded, as that had been done on purpose. And I wasn't lying, as, while I could've made more money investing in Clan Tariost or Arvino opportunities, they were both higher risk, and I didn't really want to get in economic bed with either Councilor Salo or Hoskel.

"As he should," the heiress stated with an approving nod.

With a sigh, and a slight smile, Mrs. Kiramman turned back to her dinner. "I will have some names for you to look into next time we meet. While I'm sure you meant it as a marker of conviction, it can also be seen as one of puppetry. Which, yes, is not the case," the older woman added dismissively with a wave, before her daughter could probably argue wasn't true, "but appearances do matter. In other matters, has there been anything of interest in your work at the Academy?"

"Just another way of doing things very, very wrong," I offered.

Pausing, before she could take a bite of the fish, my Patron questioned, "How bad?"

I wiggled a hand, "If it wasn't stopped, on a scale of one to the Arcane? Icathia."

Freezing mid-chew, the look the Councilor sent me instructed me to keep going.

"It was handled without issue," I reassured her. "The others were instructed on why that was bad, and, realistically speaking, I'm the only one on the team who could do so on purpose."

"Icathia?" Caitlyn questioned. "Where have I heard of that before... Oh! It was a client state of the old Shuriman empire. But how is that bad?"

"Because the rebellion of Icathia against Shurima's control, and the ensuing Void War is why Shurima Fell, millennia ago, and was likely one of the things that set the stage for the Rune Wars," I prompted.

That caused the teen's eyes to widen, but, as she looked at me sitting there, uninjured and unbothered, that helped settle her, "And, and something like that happened?"

"Only step one. If that knowledge was in the hands of a less intelligent, wise, or moral scientist, technically yes, but really no, as it's a matter of scale. The Void Wars involved the mass creation and 'control' of thousands upon thousands of Void Beasts by Mages, hence the name, except creatures of chaos literally cannot be controlled for long, it's part of what they are," I explained, taking a sip of my own glass of wine. "What we did was to the Void Wars what, say, accidentally teleporting a Mage into the Academy would be to the Rune Wars. Still bad, but not catastrophic, even if we didn't kill the thing in seconds, which we did. Piper, in particular, proved to be a deft hand with a flamethrower."

Smiling at the girl's interested expression, and her mother's morbidly curious one, I expounded, "If I wanted to, I could now summon a Void Beast. Because I'm not an idiot, I very very much do not want to do that. And, while, technically, if we worked on the array, we could likely use that method to open a gateway to the spirit realm instead, I'm more concerned with helping the people of Piltover than doing anything as destabilizing as bringing the more powerful kind of Spirits into this city."

"Wait, more? We already have Spirits?" Caitlyn asked, following the flow of the conversation, while Mrs. Kiramman was clearly lost in thought. "I thought magic was not allowed?"

"Mages aren't," I disagreed, still not having gotten to the 'everything here is some flavor of magical' talk, given the girl's cultural distrust of magic. "But even that is more due to the fact that the Mages so often turn mad, and/or evil, but mostly evil in an 'I'm so much better than you puny mortals' way. Bad for societal cohesion all round, really. And as for Spirits, well, we have at least one on the Piltover Council."

While she was at first confused, the Kiramman heiress wasn't stupid. "…Yordles are Spirits?"

I nodded, as, while the girl's education in practical matters was firm, and in political matters outstripped my own, I was waiting until she was an adult before starting her magical education, with her mother's permission. That said, given her birthday was in only a few weeks, perhaps it was time to broach that subject, though… not today. Well, she'd be an adult as most of the world saw it, Piltovan high society did not consider one truly grown until they were twenty-one. "As far as I'm aware, they literally can't die, only be banished back to their home of Bandle City."

"Heimerdinger was assassinated, over a hundred years ago," Mrs. Kiramman noted. "He came back a few months later, most annoyed."

"Explains why he's lasted as long as he has without bothering to learn how to play the Great Game," I quipped, getting a slight tip of the woman's glass in acknowledgement of the point. "Though that detachment is likely also why he's in the center seat."

I mentally added that being hard to bribe or threaten would help a great deal, but Caitlyn was still… idealistic about politics, and would argue that none of the Councilors would give in to either. It was something that her mother had been open to me occasionally bringing up, but which she didn't really want to disabuse her daughter of, at least for now.

Heimerdinger's attachments to institutions and ideals, which made him difficult for others to manipulate, were a him thing, not a Yordle thing, as Babette's attachment was to people, and thus she could be both bribed and threatened through them, though with myself as a Patron, the former was harder to do, and with Vi as a leg-breaker, so was the latter.

Speaking of which, the white-haired brawler said she had something she needed to talk to me about, as I was leaving this afternoon, but she'd reassured me it could wait until tomorrow morning.

Caitlyn started to respond, before leaning back, falling silent. We both let her work her way through the problem, before she slowly nodded. "Councilor Heimerdinger has historically been the mediating voice on contentious issues. Except for yours, of course."

"And he's calmed down after a couple years, since I wasn't, say, summoning Void Beasts willy-nilly," I smirked. "Though, it's probably best if no one else hears about that little incident."

Which, as the servants pulled back during these discussions, except for the Kiramman's head butler, there was a good chance that it would actually stop here.

"Of course!" Caitlyn nodded, the heiress having full trust in me, much to her mother's exasperated chagrin. Given that I wouldn't do anything to harm the teen, her trust wasn't misplaced, yet still, from a political point of view, it could be considered a weakness, and would be if I wasn't, well, me.

Because old Jayce, before he'd died and I'd slipped into his vacated body?

While he might not knowingly nor fully sacrifice the girl on the altar of his ambitions, he very well would have done damage to her in his willing ignorance, having dismissed anything other than his field of research as not important. He would've grown to be a Hero, of sorts, that was certain, but a tragic one, and that was a fate I was definitely going to sidestep if I could.

"Caitlyn," her mother stated, tone neutral, the heiress looking to her. "I do believe that you may accompany Jayce to visit this 'HALP Center' of his."

"I, I can?" the seventeen-year-old noble questioned, surprised, as was I. "But, it's in the Undercity. Mother, you hate the Undercity!"

"I don't 'hate' the Undercity, I just dislike it and its people, and for good reason," the Councilor argued. "But with Jayce with you, and only going there and back, I believe that will be sufficient. Armed, of course."

"To not be armed in the Undercity is akin to walking naked," I agreed, mentally planning the route. "I'll bring Violetta as well."

Caitlyn frowned, "You don't need-"

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Mrs. Kiramman stated, as I got the sense I'd passed some sort of test. It didn't come often, these days, and, honestly, I'd stopped trying to see them coming, just being myself, as corny as that sounded. Even this, her sudden reversal on a previously staunch position was likely layered and reactive to something that I'd done, but, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what the trigger was.

Regardless, "Are you available next Friday?" I questioned the teen, who brightened at that.

"Why not tomorrow?" she asked, but I shook my head.

"Prior commitment," I deferred. "And…" I paused, considering her normal style of dress. "And if you could have Carlton give me your sizes, I'll prepare something that blends a little better, as well as something you can carry your standard kit in easily." And is lined with spider-silk, so it's stab-proof.

After all, Zaun was dangerous, and the heiress' position would be more hinderance than help there.

"Oh, that, that would be lovely," she smiled, blushing a little, and I felt like I was… missing something here, as Mrs. Kiramman clearly saw both her daughter's pleasure and my confusion, and, whatever she was perceiving, it made her chuckle.

"I'm certain," the Councilor remarked, "it will be quite the experience."

Chapter Eight

"And you're sure they don't know it was you?" I questioned, as we made our way down the back alleys of Zaun, my pistol at the ready.

"Yeah, I am," Vi shot back, a little annoyed, but keyed up herself, looking around as we moved from one back passage to another. "And it's not like we've got a better lead."

Grimacing, I nodded, unable to argue that.

Convincing the girl to lie low had been fine for the first six months, letting her heal from her ordeal and get her feet under her, but after that she'd wanted to resume her, in my opinion completely justified, pursuit of revenge.

The problem was that Silco had been a complete ghost.

With Babette working for me, in a way that I knew would not betray me, I could trust her when she said that she was looking, but was unable to find hide nor hair of the man, except for the fact that he was somewhere in the city, but was working through enough layers and cutouts that no one knew where he actually was.

Hell, even his second in command, Sevika, who used to be Vander's lieutenant before she jumped ship for someone who didn't want peace and safety, was almost impossible to pin down, the woman around but never in the same place twice, both of them functioning in a 'we'll come to you, when we want to' manner. It worked for them, even if it likely cut down on operational efficiency, and, while we had found one of the buildings they used as an office, by the time we showed up, ready to go, the place had been empty.

And then it had blown up.

…I was starting to think that flying down on him, garbed as a Spirit of JUSTICE, trying to shoot him, and declaring him my Enemy might have made the man… paranoid.

Thankfully, it'd been easy to slip into a portal to escape the confrontation, and, coming out hours later, there'd been no one waiting.

But, unfortunately, even rumors of the man had dried up for months after that, though his influence could still be seen, if you looked at things with a thousand-foot view, because the man was trying to become the, for lack of better term, Godfather of Zaun, running criminal enterprises from the shadows, though the presence of the Justifiers were keeping petty crime tamped down pretty hard, so he'd moved towards other pursuits, though, honestly, Zaun's general lawlessness was clearly making that harder than it would otherwise.

After all, when there were effectively no laws around trade, there was nothing to smuggle; when there were no laws against drug use, distributing them merely became trade; and while he'd tried to 'recruit' Babette, with the woman able to lean back on the iron-clad support she had via myself and the Stamp, she'd told him to pound sand, and, when his people had pressed the issue, well, I hadn't minded her dumping the bodies in my Pocket Dimension's backyard.

That wasn't to say there was nothing he could do, when he was restricted from acting openly lest the Justifiers kick his people's shit in, as, while smuggling into Zaun was extraordinarily easy, the Enforcers were… passible at keeping restricted items out of their city, assuming you weren't one of the Great Clans, but they also had a vested interest in keeping Piltover safe, so they wouldn't go too out of control with any corruption and graft.

And then there was Shimmer.

The shining purple fluid, which, yes, had certain Void-y connotations, in large enough amounts turned the user into a roided out berserker, akin to Bane from Batman, only, while that man was a lumbering powerhouse, those hopped up on the supernatural combat stim gained the speed that enhanced strength should give oneself, which meant even a common thug had easily manhandled the younger Vi, only not killing her outright because he had been so drunk on his newfound power that he'd been playing with her.

It was that situation which had prompted Piper's disastrous attempt to save her family, in her ignorance and panic, using far more explosives than was necessary, and, in the process, killing her brothers.

A cup of the pure Shimmer fluid would, for a few minutes, take a Tier Two threat, your average mook, and push them into the upper ends of Tier Four, maybe even Tier Five, the domain of superheroes and those that, under the right circumstances, could wipe out an entire city block.

It was also incredibly addicting and mutagenic as fuck, but, when offered the route to easy power, most did not care.

However, instead of supersoldiers on command, Silco had, unfortunately, and smartly, not used it to make his own, easily traceable, elite army.

No, he'd started selling it.

Not in the pure form, the treacherous man, for better and worse, wasn't stupid, but the same substance that twisted one's body and grew mounds of muscles in seconds, as their veins turned a deep, glowing purple and their eyes shone darkly with unnatural light, in small amounts, worked as a medicine of sorts.

I'd even managed to get a few samples of the supernatural steroids, through Babette, and could tell it had been doctored immediately, the faintly glowing fluid nothing on the near-chemtech-like radiance of the full-strength substance, but it'd definitely carried the… tang of magic, not that I'd been stupid enough to try it myself.

However, while I had been able to do a little testing, I was well aware that my talents lay in the mechanical rather than the biological, my mindset that of a Conjurer or Evoker instead of a Transmuter or Necromancer, and thus while I could create effects, manifesting the tools I needed to accomplish my goals, working within larger systems, tweaking complex interlocking systems just so was… not my forte.

And, well, I only had so much time.

So while I'd done enough testing to make sure it wouldn't turn people into Void-Horrors, I kind of already knew that, as low-level repeated over-use wouldn't give people tentacles, it'd just give them cancer, but, again, it worked in the immediate, and that's where a large percentage of people, especially in Zaun, lived.

So, a couple adulterated ounces could hasten the healing of injuries with supernatural speed, or give someone an unnatural edge in a fight, and the only way to get it was through Silco, who peddled it through an annoyingly secure network of dead-drops that didn't allow us to move up-network, and, if we'd gone for broke and dropped all pretense of subtlety, still likely wouldn't work while telling him exactly who was coming for him.

And, against Silco, our greatest advantage was that he thought that I didn't even know who he was, and that Vi was dead.

We continued to move from alley to alley, far off the beaten path, but, if Sevika had strayed closer to the main drag, there was a good chance Vi would've seen her before, and, knowing the teen, even though she'd promised to come get me, she probably wouldn't've been able to stop herself from trying to beat the treacherous woman's face in if they met.

It was actually one of the things I knew I'd have to be careful of, as, if Vi killed the Zaunite in her rage, it'd be that much harder to track down Silco, but, more than that, it would be the girl's first purposeful person-kill, the Ratlings so strange they hadn't really counted to her, and the Molders… I wasn't sure what they were. No, the first time you killed someone you saw as a person… well, that was one of those things that you could never really prepare yourself for.

And, yes, Piper had killed thugs when I'd been attacked, but… well, that hadn't been her first kill, though I'd wished it was.

"So how are we doing this?" I questioned, as we passed a few junkies, watching them out of the corner of my eye as one of them openly watched us, my facemask such that my features were mostly obscured, my clothing bulky enough with armor to obscure my form.

"Show up, kick her shit in, get answers," Vi responded tensely. "This doesn't need a blueprint." She shrugged her shoulders. "Could do with less weighing me down."

I shook my head. "If anyone's gonna be heavily armed down here, it's her," I shot back, glancing at the girl, what she was wearing the ninth version of the body armor that tried to maximize protection while minimizing restrictions. Spider-silk backing was so basic it didn't even bother mentioning, but the issue with any kind of hard armor was that, past individual plates, it required a framework to attach to in order to better distribute received force away from the wearer's flesh, and, additionally, every plate limited flexibility in the area it protected. Smaller plates, connected to give them flex-points, not only created weak-points, but they restricted movement in the area to only function on those lines the flex-points created.

I'd actually secured suits of Damacian and Noxian plate, to study, but not only were they conspicuous as fuck, the fighting style they forced… was already something at odds with all of ours, though I could crib a few notes from the articulation methods, the safety-gear from my workshops at Home which I'd already bastardized into 'armor' were only good for individual pieces, not connected sets.

It was my attempt at a single inter-connected torso piece that she was wearing now, her metal gauntlets connected to a base frame that ran down her arms, to an articulated back-piece that her coat fit over. It made the kinds of acrobatics that Piper liked to pull off on the regular difficult, but Vi's pugilistic style worked well with those protections, the armor not extending down to her waist, allowing her to move more easily. It also lacked any kind of chest-piece, but, while she'd gotten better about being touched, she'd begged off that kind of form-fitting tailored protection. Then again, until I was better at armoring I wasn't sure I could make a piece that wouldn't restrict her movements, given how much of her power came from abdominal torsion.

Her leg armor was more basic, with lightly armored knees, shins, and feet turning her kicks lethal, softer armor serving as pants, but anything more than that messed up her footwork, which, obviously, would lead to her getting hit more, and that hit the point of diminishing returns that all armoring had to balance.

My own 'war-suit', though it was really more 'scuffle-garb', was thin plates of metal connected to a framework that maximized articulation, but should take some solid hits, all worked into 'pants' and a 'jacket' which looked somewhat natural, though it had to be donned like armor, an integrated undervest letting me leave the front 'open' to try and sell the fact that it was just clothing.

Vi had been… less than kind about it, but Caitlyn didn't notice I was wearing it, and while it restricted my ability to bob and weave, but larger movements still worked, so, borrowing some of Piper's more acrobatic tendencies, with enough training, it still let me move my entire body out of the way as need be.

That said, neither of us were wearing helmets, our armored masks the most we could get away with, and I had to be content with the fact that we should be far more armored than anyone we were going to go up against.

"And if she's not there?" I questioned quietly, as we neared, the thinner gloves I was wearing let me feel the trigger on my gun, as I fought myself not to keep my finger off of it, combat training be damned, as while I needed to be ready for attack at any moment, stealth was the priority until we got started.

"Abandoned building overlooking the spot," the brawler informed me quietly, as we continued, showing that she had done the research. "Had a couple kids check it out yesterday."

The Piltovan in me, the remaining copy of the original Jayce, a ghost of a ghost, recoiled at the idea of using children that way, but Zaunites didn't have the same kind of views on childhood influence, and, as an Agent… I'd seen so much worse.

"Good thinking," I stated, the white-haired girl shooting me a pleased, if smug, smirk, appreciating the praise, even if she'd never admit it.

"You and Piper might be good up in those towers of yours, but me, I know the streets," Vi stated, allowing herself the moment, before she schooled her features. "But, we're almost there. So be ready."

Nodding back seriously, I took a deep breath, trying to put myself 'in the zone' as much as possible, focusing on not just sight, as I looked around, but hearing, trying to detect any odd sounds, the constant susurrus of activity from the Lanes muted, leaving the area quiet in a way that was unsettling. Sniffing… yeah, it just smelled somewhat bad, and I didn't know enough about this place to tell what was out of place or not, the sour stench of unwashed bodies only one piece of the usual fermenting bouquet of the Undercity that also held the harsh actinic tinge of Chemfluid, the coppery scent of old blood, though thankfully not Old Blood, and, as of late, the ever so slightly piscine scent of Shimmer.

In front of me, Vi's stance shifted, her steps quieting, and I copied her, glad that I only received the faintest of feelings from my Talents, telling me that, while she was better than me, I was at least close, as she reached behind herself and freed her shotgun in her holster, the firearm half-hidden behind her hanging jacket, and I wanted to remind her that we needed Savika alive, but I had to trust her, as we slowly crept to the end of the alley, which opened up into a narrow side-street, only about fifteen feet wide, the girl peering out carefully, one side, then another, before tense shoulders fell and she let out a near-silent sigh in aggravated disappointment.

Moving up to the young woman, I whispered into her ear, "Not here?"

For a half second, she tensed, still… not the best when I got too close to her on anything other than her terms, before she shook her head, glancing over her shoulder at me, our faces inches apart to keep anyone from overhearing as she near-silently replied, "No. But… maybe she's late. And I didn't, didn't get, like, a time, just… sorry."

"What for?" I questioned, leaning back slightly, the teen sending me a confused look. "You had a lead, we followed it up. I woulda liked to find the rat today, but we will, Violetta, eventually. Now, let's go set up and see if the bitch shows up. I've opened my schedule, and we can stay here 'till midnight, if we need to."

A complex expression flitted across her features, settling on what I could only call 'rueful appreciation', as she nodded, reaching up to tap me on the chest, telling me, "Come on, Jayce."

We both stepped out, and the street was empty, which, while eerie, was not too out of the ordinary, Zaun overbuilt to an insane degree for its residents, to the point that, once you got out of the main areas, it gave post-apocalyptic vibes.

Then again, given that Zaun had almost been completely destroyed in a cataclysm that unleashed tides of poison gas, and half-sunk the city, leading to the creation of Piltover by those with the means to escape, I suppose it was post-apocalyptic, but had merely suffered a local one.

Looking around, distant lights of occupied city, here and there, like architectural stars, lit up the open-topped cave Zaun had become, the city, roughly the size of NYC, once you counted in its extreme verticality, had maybe a tenth of its population, and most was gathered, almost protectively, in the lanes, which shone with a riot of color, though most of it green, creating an ambient glow like that of a distant outpost, despite the fact that we were still in Zaun.

But that was what made it so hard to track down a single man, or technically two people, who very clearly did not want to be found.

Not seeing anything myself, I shot an inquiring glance towards my partner in this, Vi gesturing to a nearby darkened apartment building, hand curving around, then up, to indicate the alley next to it, and the fire escape next to it. Well, not really a fire escape, more a series of balconies, metal rusted and iffy looking, but the construction materials of this city, despite looking like crap, were next-level, something that Piltover still couldn't reliably reproduce, a bit like old Roman Concrete, really.

Nodding, I started to follow her over, when a Screech split the air, wet, high, and inhuman.

And Vi froze, paling, eyes widening, a whispered, "no," falling from her lips.

"Wha-?" was as far as I got when I heard something coming, something fast, and, turning, a hulking shape hurtled out of a different alley, slamming into the far wall, cracking the masonry, before turning lambent eyes towards us, scleras stained black, irises a shining teal, and, dead center, glowed a pinprick of purple, the same purple that covered the, the man's body, though it had been twisted, and enlarged, like a necromancer tried to make a supersoldier, in thick grotesque veins.

"Oh fuck this," I cursed, pistol up, sighting as it glanced my way, and, with two loud bangs I took it down with my revolver, the still creature's face snapping backwards as I sank both shots into its skull, the idiot, though I only now realized it was wearing a junkie's rags, starting to fall-

It took a step backwards, and stopped, head being brought back towards us, glaring at me, one cheek torn up, a round stuck dead-center of its forehead that, as I looked, fell out, the circular wound dripping blood that glimmered with an inner indigo light, the fluid a luminescent magenta as it dripped down the man's distorted face.

"Oh… fuck," I swore, as it charged, faster than anything I'd faced since Basic, the only saving grace I had the fact that it clearly had no idea what to do with its abilities, the Shimmer Berserker going for a full body tackle, unused to its own speed, which allowed me to twist out of the way, my blade coming free of its sheath, slashing across its side in a blow that should have gutted the man-turned-monster, but its flesh was tough, and while I cut a glowing, bulging vein, splashing my hand with tainted blood, I barely did more than score its skin, causing it to snarl in anger as it passed both of us, almost falling, scrabbling to its feet on all fours, turning animalistically and charging once again, breaking into a low sprint before launching itself into the air.

At Vi.

Who hadn't moved.

SHIT! I thought, darting forward myself, grabbing the back of her jacket and hauling her away, behind me as the Berserker dropped down in a double hand pound that slammed into the ground, hard enough to kill either of us instantly, dust kicked up from a small shockwave that caused a small chips in the normally invulnerable pavement that covered the city to fly up like shrapnel, one slamming into my armored chest, and I stabbed forward, going for its neck, only for its arm to come up to stop the blow, a clumsy block, not even giving me the faintest of feedback from Martial Talent, but, with the speed, and strength, it was delivered with, I still almost lost hold of my weapon as it stood and shot a fist forward my own arms flying up to block it.

And it almost snapped my arms.

The armored plates groaned, taking the force and distributing it, not just across my entire forearms, but down the joints across my shoulders and chest, my already borderline supernaturally tough body barely able to take the hit as the force transferred from striking to shoving, sending me flying backwards, into Vi, who was still just staring, both of us going down in a rolling tumble of limbs, my instincts pushing me to grab her and hold onto her, to keep her safe, before, with a slam, I hit the side of a building, my head tucked down meaning I hit back-first, the articulates spine armor keeping anything from breaking.

"Vi!" I whispered, pushing my Song to force her to listen, "Head in the game! I NEED you!"

If I had a solid five seconds, I could theoretically open a portal and get us out, but I'd have to take her with me, and, while I was willing to risk someone seeing us disappear, the fucker wasn't giving us enough time.

The white haired girl blinked, distant eyes starting to focus, as I heard the Shimmer Berserker start to charge, and, grabbing her to try to get her out of the way, she'd already grabbed me, and, punching a hand down into the street, shoved us both to the side, spinning us over one another as the roided out junkie missed us by inches, the monster slamming into the reinforced concrete that made up an abandoned storefront, and broke through it.

"Jayce, we can't-" she started to shout, back in the moment.

"Already ahead of you," I told her, holstering my pistol to grab my phone, to open a portal, but the creature launched itself out of the darkened building and hit me, hard, the chestplates of my armor deforming as they took the hit, my device going flying, as I hit the ground, Vi's training kicking in as I moved like Piper, rolling backwards with the hit, legs, pulled up to come between me and the Berserker, who was pulling back, hands twisted into gnarled pseudo-claws rearing up to tear down into me, and, conserving momentum, slammed my heels into the top-heavy junkie's stomach, hand going out to slap the ground and give me a good base, shifting my center to my shoulders, and, gritting my teeth, grunting with effort, I lifted the quarter-ton mutant and hurled him up and past me, swinging, near-clawed hands almost brushing my nose, but harmlessly tearing through only air.

Continue the roll, trying to come up to my feet, I staggered, turned, the Shimmer Berserker already coming for me, with a high-pitched screech, as I, off balance, tried to dodge, but I wasn't going to be able to-

"FUCK YOU!" Vi screamed, coming in from the side, fist leading, catching the monster by surprise, metal-clad fist slamming into its jaw and diverting it to go flying past me, its bulky form rolling over and over as it, dazed, tried to get its feet under it, and only succeeding on the third attempt.

"Good to have you with us," I commented dryly, trying to take a deep breath, but unable to, the metal in my chest pressing down into my diaphragm, a little painfully, but manageably. Focusing on my device, I got rid of it, the square vanishing into shadows, but it'd take a few seconds for it to reset before I could summon it once more. "Run or fight?"

She grimaced, "Sorry, I-"

"Run or Fight?" I demanded, as our Shimmer-infused foe stood, looking at us warily, which meant it'd be more cautious, which wasn't a good thing.

"… Fight," the brawler declared, and took off running for the monster.

"Fair enough," I sighed, unholstering my pistol, calling out a bit unnecessarily as she closed on it, "You take Lead!"

Vi imperceptibly nodded, as she closed on the creature, who took a swipe at her with supernatural speeds, faster than she could move, but she was responding to the hit before it had even fully decided to strike, and ducked under the blow, coming at it from below in a rising uppercut that took the creature off its feet, as I charged forward, and, jumping past her, slammed into it mid-air, sinking my short-sword into the monster's guts, which was like driving the weapon into wood, but I still got a stab in, as I hit the ground first, and tried to pull it free, but it was stuck fast, only for Vi to step forward, and with a yell, slam a punch right into its chest, under its ribs, forcing the animalistic humanoid creature backwards and freeing my blade.

It staggered, and came for her again, as she weaved around the first hit, slamming a cross into the berserker's face, its reply, however, caught her in the shoulder, sending her spinning away, feet out to catch herself as it started to charge, only to receive two more rounds to the head from my pistol, which, while not enough to kill it, did momentarily distract it enough for my partner to recover and meet its stumbling step with a haymaker of her own, sending it sprawling, but, as she followed it, while she dodged its first forestalling swipe, sinking another blow in, its second still caught her, the woman barely able to get a block up, once more taken off her feet.

While I shot it again, leaving one round left in the chamber, I held back a moment, as Vi went on the attack, hitting and dodging back, its counter going wide, going in for another set of hits, the brawler able to read its first reaction, but not its second, and, while the margin of error was closer, she still took a hit to her unarmored chest that left her gasping, one hand going to her injured breast, the material thankfully cut-proof at least, as I darted forward, taking advantage of the opening to switch-hit, blade going down to its thigh, trying to cut its femoral artery, but, while there was a gout of blood at first, it stemmed itself, the Berserker's retaliatory blow sending me flying, but, expecting it, I was able to already be moving with it, though it still rattled my fucking bones in the process, one of my shoulder-struts snapping under the strain, rated to handle even mountains of muscle, but not supernatural foes, as I watched the lethal wound coagulating before my eyes.

Right. Shimmer's a medicine. Fucking Regenerators.

Short of overwhelming amounts of 'fuck you', kill-shots that took a few seconds wouldn't kill, though, given how beat to shit its face was, and how punch-drunk it was seeming, we were wearing it the fuck down.

And, more than that, the glow of its grotesque veins had started to slowly dim, as the fight, despite lasting maybe two minutes, was eating through its own reserves, each bit of healing likely carving off the junkie's empowerment timer.

"You're not fast enough to keep up with it," I advised her, spending my last bullet at its face to buy us another moment. "Be Caitlyn."

For a moment, Vi frowned, then, eyes widening slightly, she nodded, launching herself forward in a punishing blow, fading back, waiting for the Junkie to step forward and try and strike her before leaning to the side, letting it skim past her, and punishing its overreach with another counter before leaping backwards, its follow-up catching only air. Our resident sniper preferred to go for single exchanges, usually ripostes, before backing off, her markswoman mentality at work, as opposed to the white-haired Zaunites 'beat the fuck out of you until you give up' approach.

Thankfully, as I quickly used a speed-loader to refill my revolver, the brawler adapted in seconds, the girl, my superior in skill by far, and, focused, starting tearing apart the Shimmer Berserker, though it was moving with, at most, half the speed it originally possessed, and it was still slowing.

Seeing an opportunity, I darted in, holstering my pistol, commanding, "Violetta, shotgun!" as I slashed out with both hands, deflecting a swipe, cutting a line down the junkie's arm, the man's flesh weaker, and, hearing the weapon clear its holster, I ducked to the side, giving her free range, opening fire with my pistol, dumping the entire cylinder into it to keep it distracted and give my partner time to work, the shots visibly hurting it now, but still not enough to stop it.

Levelling the weapon, with a sneer, the teen announced, "Tank this," and pulled the trigger, the BOOM loud in the space as the four gauge solid slug blew the top of the junkie's head off, and it toppled back, a pool of glinting crimson quickly starting to form.

Staring at the dead berserker, its form twisty and lumpy with unnatural muscle, her weapon dropped from nerveless fingers, and I caught it, having expected such, as she stood there, looking down at the person she'd just killed, and I quickly reloaded and reholstered her weapon, grabbing her shoulder, whispering, "Vi, we need to-"

Two more Shrieks, high pitched and inhuman, rent the air.

"Are you fucking serious," I groaned, as she turned around, and there was a look of fear in her eyes, as, focusing, I summoned my device, and started to open a portal next to us.

"Jayce, we-" the brawler stated, unable to see the Gate as it sprang into being, as I heard not just two foes closing in on us, but close to a dozen, and taking her hand, two more glowing shapes, though, interestingly, neither as large as the first, turned the corner and started to charge for us.

"Yeah we're goi-" I started to reassure her when the others arrived.

Dozens of them.

All bellowing the same war cry.

"For Him!"

And then they opened fire on the Shimmer Berserkers.

… what.

I froze as the Justifers took a ragged line, and, with their much larger caliber single-shot weapons, broke the charge of both attackers, only for the others with blades to, working in teams of three, fall upon the mutated monsters, using an oddly modified style, short swords held in a reverse grip with their other hands on the pommels to generate more force, sink their steel into the hardened flesh with far less of an issue than I had.

Feeling the trick of Martial talent, I let go of Vi's hand and shifted my own blade, holding it the same way, and… huh, it wasn't combat-useful in a normal fight, but, well, that was on me for treating the one against a supernaturally empowered foe like I would a regular person.

In moments the junkie-ambushers were dead, a couple of the Justifers nursing bruises, but they had it in hand, and it was clear this was something they'd done before. Turning, they spotted us, and Vi tensed, but if they turned hostile, it would take only a step and a half for us to get away, though explaining how we had would be a little more difficult.

However… I recognized a few of them.

The group approached us, some of them warily, but a few quiet comments saw them reloading and holstering their guns, as I smiled, calling out, "Ruvil, Neve, Oked, fancy meeting you here!"

"Mr. Talis," Ruvil, a taller man with a spiked cog tattoo over one eye, nodded. "Ms. Vandottir. What're you doing this far from the lanes?"

"Was lookin' for some Freljordian Icewine," Vi lied smoothly. "Heard somebody got some, and was sellin' it. Taste of home, ya'know?" she smiled, though there was an underlying tension to it. "Instead, we found this asshole."

One of the other Justifers, a Chirean woman, her bat-like ears folding back, whistled, "Daaamn, that's a biggun. And a Pilty took it down?"

"C'mon," another argued. "Talis' is like, an honorary Laner!"

"Ah-Hem," Vi coffed, amused, but a little annoyed.

Neve rolled her eyes, addressing the brawler, "Ah, 'Letta, 'course we know you're tougher 'an a Sump Croc, but everyone knows Talis' one of 'em think-y types. No offense," she added, glancing my way.

"None taken," I smiled, "So… is this an ongoing problem?" I waved towards the dead body. "Because this is the first I've heard of it." Officially.

Ruvil grimaced. "We keep 'em from the Lanes, but, yeah. Sometimes a Sumper gets too much and…" the thin man hunched a little, and made a clawing motion. "Had to have got something real strong to get that big."

"Pure, not a lot?" I clarified.

The man shook his head, some of the Justifiers, seeing the fight was over, heading back towards the Lanes, others gathering to watch.

"Nah, a lot just kills 'em," Neve offered, bringing her hands together and opening them up as she brought them up and apart, mouthing 'pop'.

"… lovely," I commented, glancing over to the girl, and not at the swirling portal behind us both. "Violetta, if you'd talk to them about this issue, I need to fix my coat."

She started to nod, then focused on my chest, frowning. "Jayce, you're bleeding."

"I'm aware, it's fine," I reassured her, looking over, gesturing towards the others as I moved to the half-destroyed storefront, taking a seat as I used my blade, still dirty with Shimmer-infused blood, but, with my Defences, I didn't have to worry about cross contamination, to cut open the outer portion of my coat, revealing the mangled metal underneath.

"Damn," Neve, who'd followed me over, swore. "You take a hit from that big bastard?"

I nodded, using my weapon as a lever to work the dented, cracked material free, the wreckage not having punctured the spider-silk backing, but had driven in with enough force that it'd still broken the skin, which was going to leave one hell of a bruise in the morning.

"Is that armor?" another of them questioned.

"I'd say I was paranoid, wearing it," I half shrugged, waving towards the corpses with my blade, "but…"

That got a round of chuckles, as I finished extracting the worst bits, able to breath fully again, and, idly, sheathed my blade, unholstered my revolver, and started reloading it, as, around me, everyone went quiet.

Even Vi glanced over, but I met her gaze, confused, looking around the Justifiers that'd gathered, one asking, "Wait, you be usin' Blade an' Barrel?"

The way the Justifer, a younger guy, said it, that sounded like it had, well, weight to it, so, finishing the reloading, I slowly answered, "…yes? Is, is that an issue? I mean, you guys use them, too."

"Not, not both," Neve answered, and as I started to worry, she read my expression, she quickly waved a hand, "Ain't nothin' bad, sir. Just… just so does He."

"… who does?" I questioned, completely lost.

The group shared looks, before one of the others, a Vastaya, by his pointed ears, and who looked oddly familiar, stated, "Our leader. Well, not like leader leader, but, like, who we're following. Who saved us. Who we're trying to be like!"

"And that would be…?" I prodded, still confused.

The man reached into his shirt, an pulled out the shell casings I'd seen some of them wear, which had been odd, but, honestly, for Zaun, wasn't too unusual, but froze as the man, reverently, said, "His name is… Justice."

And there, written in Necril, language of the Dead, were two words.

$Class D$