Chapter 17: Criminal

Grayson, Sheriff of Piltover, issued quiet orders while signing off on a stack of paperwork. Her uniform, blue, crisp, and formal, bore the sheriff's insignia proudly on her chest. Her tall boots clicked softly against the stone and her presence stood out.

She exhaled through her nose, gaze shifting slowly over the scene in front of her. Wrinkles lined her face more deeply than years prior, grey streaking through what had once been pure black hair.

She had long stopped expecting to be surprised.

Yet this, this was unusual.

Not because the break-in happened, but because the guards had been found unconscious, swearing they remembered nothing.

There were no signs of forced entry and yet signs of struggle were clear. Blood dotted the floors and walls, speckled plants, and was smeared slightly along the doorway. Both guards were dazed but unharmed.

Grayson's first suspicion had been a classic setup: the guards faking memory loss after letting in Undercity smugglers in exchange for coin. But if that were true, the scene would've looked much cleaner.

And when the staff returned to assess the damage, the list of stolen goods raised more questions than it answered.

Only two things were missing: an Ionian fox and Red Blossom flowers.

'Odd. Very odd.'

At the edge of the scene, Lady Cassandra Kiramman stood with her arms crossed, posture sharp, anxiety hidden just beneath the surface. Beside her, Caitlyn's sharp eyes flicked across the scene, trying to make sense of the crime scene.

As Caitlyn stepped forward to get a closer look, Cassandra blocked her with an arm, earning a glare and a frustrated sigh from her daughter.

Grayson raised a brow. Cassandra didn't normally concern herself with petty criminal activity.

'She's here because it's either personal or political.'

"Lady Kiramman," Grayson greeted with a slight nod, stepping forward. "What brings you here?"

"My daughter reported something strange yesterday," Cassandra said, tone level. "Now I arrive to find this. What happened?"

"Looks like a smuggling job," Grayson replied. "Likely from the Undercity. The guards claim they don't remember anything, but there are signs of struggle. The odd thing is… there's no forced entry."

"No forced entry?" Cassandra repeated, her voice sharpening.

"Correct. Which means someone let them in. And given the size of the staff, there are only two who could have."

"What was taken?"

"An Ionian fox. And Red Blossom flowers."

"Flowers?" Caitlyn echoed, her confusion breaking the tension for a moment.

"Yes," Grayson nodded. "And there's only one reason someone from the Undercity would want them."

Cassandra's lips thinned. "Alchemy. Not the medicinal kind either."

"Exactly."

Cassandra's gaze turned thoughtful as she looked over the garden again. "Has this incident been made public yet?"

"No," Grayson said. "Only the staff and my team know."

"Keep it that way. Have the staff destroy all records referencing the Ionian fox. If anyone asks, say it was returned to Ionia."

Grayson blinked. "May I ask why, my lady?"

"Because if the Ionians discover that Piltover caged one of their Spirit Foxes," Cassandra said curtly, "it becomes a diplomatic issue."

Grayson raised her brows. "You're certain it was a Spirit Fox?"

Caitlyn stepped in. "The boy said it was. The same one I told you about. He knew a lot about Ionian creatures and customs."

Grayson's eyes narrowed slightly, shuffling papers in her hand to the paper related to the Ionian fox. "And you believed him?"

"He was rude," Caitlyn admitted, "but he didn't seem like a liar. He even warned me that it could become a political issue."

Cassandra sighed, frustrated. "This boy. Did he enter the botanical garden?"

"Yes. I saw him head toward it myself."

Grayson nodded slowly, the puzzle pieces coming together in her mind. "So. An Undercity boy enters with unusual money, talks like a scholar, and the very next night Ionian flora and fauna are missing."

She exhaled sharply.

"If he's telling the truth about the Spirit Fox, and word gets out…"

Caitlyn finished the thought grimly, "Then it reflects badly on all of Piltover."

"Was it political then?" Cassandra asked aloud. "A setup? Or an opportunistic thief?"

"Hard to say," Grayson replied. "Maybe it started as profit and ended with spite. The politics may've been a bonus. But we can't assume either way."

"I want that boy found," Cassandra said, her tone allowing no argument. "Caitlyn, give the Sheriff his description. He's our only lead."

"Yes, Mother."

"And do whatever it takes to keep this out of the papers," Cassandra added. "Close the Menagerie for now. Invent a reason."

Grayson nodded. "We'll increase searches at the port and canal, and the city gates. But we can't keep it up for long before people start asking questions."

As Cassandra turned to leave, she paused beside Grayson. The two exchanged a glance before casting quick looks at Caitlyn.

Caitlyn felt the weight of their gazes and stood a little straighter.

But neither said a word.

Cassandra scoffed and walked out without explanation while Grayson, however, chuckled softly behind her.

"What?" Caitlyn asked, brow furrowed.

"She thinks this will push you further down the Enforcer path," Grayson said with a knowing smile. "Will it?"

"I already wanted to be an Enforcer," Caitlyn muttered, clearly upset. "But I trusted that boy. I thought he was just curious like me- not someone who'd steal a Spirit Fox and alchemical plants."

Grayson placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "You're learning, Caitlyn. That's how deception works. It's not always clear until it's too late."

Caitlyn stared at the trampled grass for a moment, then muttered, "I wish I'd punched him."

Grayson laughed. "Not exactly proper for a lady of House Kiramman."

"I still want to."

"I'll see what I can do," Grayson smirked. "Just don't tell your mother. I like my job."

Caitlyn huffed but when Grayson gestured for her to follow into the scene and investigate under her guidance, her mood shifted to something brighter, more focused.

Grayson smiled as Caitlyn knelt beside a bloodstain and began her assessment.

"So," Grayson asked, slipping back into teacher mode. "What do you think happened here?"

------------------

Two silver coins glinted on the table.

Orion stared in disbelief, making no effort to hide his reaction as his gaze darted up at the men before him. Two burly thugs flanked a lithe negotiator whose calm demeanor and practiced gaze spoke of long experience in haggling.

"Going to complain?" the negotiator asked flatly.

Orion shrugged. "Double."

"Are you smokin' the chemtrails, boy?" the man scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

Orion chuckled dryly, his eyes flicking toward the sack's contents spread out across the table. "Maybe. Security, Ionia, magic- I even got knocked around a bit." The negotiator's expression didn't shift, but Orion continued anyway.

"These flowers weren't picked for bronze scraps. They're silver or gold- easy. Your fixer isn't receiving only some pretty petals; she's getting the seeds too. Seeds grow bushes. Exclusive alchemical traits. A whole monopoly, if she plays it right."

He tapped the table beside the tiny pile of seeds. "You're not buying plants. You're buying power."

The negotiator frowned, rubbing his chin. Slowly, his eyes widened as the implications dawned on him. After a beat, he leaned back and barked out a laugh.

"Damned smart, aren't ya, kid? C got lucky- nfound herself a rat with just the right mix of chem in its brain."

Reaching into his weathered coat, a stark contrast to the wealth his demeanor projected, he pulled out three more coins and stacked them atop the first two.

"Boss said, 'If he's got a lick of sense, treat him right.' Consider this just that."

He folded his arms, giving Orion a nod of approval.

Orion didn't waste time. He scooped up the five full silver coins and slipped them into his jacket and pant pockets, the weight a comforting reassurance against the future.

'I won't have to worry about food for awhile. Hell, I might be able to move somewhere better if I keep landing these hits,' he thought, feeling the rare flush of satisfaction.

"Don't waste it. Boss said she'll be in touch if you pulled it off," the negotiator added with a dismissive wave. "Now get lost! I've got others waiting."

Orion nodded and turned to leave, though a small prickling sensation lingered in the back of his mind. Unease. But... it was good money.

He exhaled and made his way back through Entresol, the thick smog curling around familiar streets like a suffocating blanket.

"I miss Topside already," he muttered jealously.

The rest of the evening passed with Orion scouring the markets for anything useful. He searched for ammunition that matched his gun, but came up empty.

'I'll probably have to head down to the Black Lanes for that,' he thought grimly, already dreading it.

Despite his healing magic, he invested in two small portable medical kits- two silver well spent, in his opinion.

'If I get into another bad spot, I don't want to rely only on magic. It's taxing. And forbidden,' he reminded himself. 'Backups are always good.'

The gnawing hunger that had followed him all day finally pushed him to spend another silver on a heavy, meat-filled dish. As the mean settled, he exhaled with contentment but also annoyance.

"Food's gonna be the biggest expense," he muttered.

But for now, at least, he could enjoy a warm meal in peace.