Unexpected

As one of the most important cities in the North, Bratia was designed to serve as a key hub for transportation and trade. Its economy and infrastructure had seen heavy investment and rapid development. Still, like any major city, Bratia inevitably had its share of seedy districts—though that was a political discussion all its own.

On the whole, Bratia left a good impression: neat rows of low-rise apartment buildings, broad and clean streets, bustling markets, well-dressed citizens. The city center was as vibrant as any of Dazilet's core cities. Ever since the former state that Bratia had belonged to was annexed, Dazilet's modern architectural techniques had been introduced here as well. The towering skyscrapers piercing the sky formed an impressive skyline—like the Empire itself was propping up the heavens.

Among those skyscrapers, one housed the North's most prestigious hotel. Nobles and high-profile businesspeople from across the Empire would choose to stay there when passing through Bratia. Aside from hosting venues and regular rooms on the lower floors, the hotel's rooftop held exclusive suites reserved for the truly elite—old nobility and the ultra-wealthy. Normally, aside from the cleaning staff, the top floors remained quiet and empty. But today was an exception.

In one of the opulent suites, a man whose appearance clashed somewhat with the luxury around him sat quietly on the sofa, reading a newspaper. He was plainly dressed, with a coat and trousers in faded shades of black and gray. Even the wide-brimmed hat he wore was black. Perhaps he'd been sitting too long and grown stiff; he shifted slightly, stubbed out a half-smoked cigar in the ashtray, and turned the page of his paper.

"Imperial Council Votes to Reinstate Militia System in Surianka"

Barini frowned at the bold headline.

To secure power, Parotno had cut a deal with three autonomous regions within Dazilet, winning their support in exchange for greater self-governance. Now that his rule had stabilized, Parotno was making good on his promises. With Princess Hielaina still missing, that unresolved threat loomed large, and Parotno needed allies—enough of them to offset any internal unrest, even if it meant sacrificing some of the Empire's internal stability.

"If you don't need anything else from me, I'll take my leave now..."

Satorodino was nervously fidgeting with his thumbs, waiting for the man's response.

Their earlier conversation had been brief and uneventful, but facing a man as feared throughout the Empire's nobility and bureaucracy as Barini Sigbodley was still nerve-wracking—especially when that man showed up in Bratia without warning.

"You may go," Barini said, eyes never leaving the newspaper.

Satorodino stood, bowed slightly, and turned toward the door.

By the entrance stood another plainly dressed man. He had been watching Satorodino closely from the moment he entered the room, and his gaze did not waver until the door opened and Satorodino stepped out.

"Hahhh—"

Only once the door closed did Satorodino exhale deeply in relief.

The government official who usually backed him had suddenly asked him to receive someone from the capital—someone from the central government. He hadn't thought much of it and just went, only to realize too late that the man he was speaking with was none other than the Minister of Internal Affairs, Barini Sigbodley. Why someone in his own political circle would throw him into that situation was beyond him. But he'd been smart enough not to acknowledge Barini's identity out loud.

Better not to speak a word of this... he thought to himself.

Getting mixed up with the Minister of Internal Affairs couldn't lead to anything good. He was just a local underworld boss—not someone qualified to play in those political arenas. Even the nobles and officials he dealt with daily rarely had access to that level of power.

As he walked briskly down the long hallway, thoughts still tangled with paranoia, he saw the elevator ahead. Though it was in a straight line from the room, the walk was not short. Just as he was about to reach it, the elevator doors unexpectedly opened.

Two women stepped out.

One wore a white veil and a black dress, and after glancing at him, quickly looked away. The other, however, fixed her eyes on him with such sharpness it felt like she might pierce through him entirely.

He quickly averted his gaze and continued walking steadily toward the elevator.

Look less. Ask less. Say nothing. Don't get involved. That was the best way to survive when dealing with someone like Barini. According to the hotel staff, there weren't any other guests on the top floor. So, it was obvious those two women had gone to see him.

Inside the descending elevator, Satorodino tried to steady himself. He straightened his tie in the mirror and checked that his suit hadn't been rumpled from his earlier tension.

I shouldn't tell anyone about this. I won't even ask my political contacts. That's the safest option. Yes, just pretend this never happened.

Ding—

The elevator stopped on a floor below ten.

That wasn't right. The elevator serving the top-floor suites was supposed to be exclusive. Only after reaching the tenth floor could it connect to the normal guest elevators. So why was it stopping here?

Before he could figure it out, the doors slid open, and a hotel employee in uniform entered, pushing a cart.

"Good day, sir."

"..."

Satorodino merely stared coldly at the man and gave no reply.

He wasn't familiar enough with the hotel to know every single staff protocol, but as someone who frequented the place for meetings with local officials and nobles, he was well aware that staff weren't supposed to use the guest elevators. This newcomer was suspicious. Maybe he was new and unfamiliar with the rules, but Satorodino wasn't about to let his guard down.

He took a step back to the corner of the elevator, slipped a hand into his coat, and gripped his pistol, eyes locked on every movement the staffer made.

But the hotel worker did nothing unusual—both hands stayed on the cart the whole time.

Thud—

Thud—

Two dull sounds came from the elevator ceiling, like something had dropped onto it.

Both Satorodino and the staffer looked up at the panel above. Then came more noises—footsteps this time. Very clearly, someone was up there.

Before Satorodino could pinpoint their position—

The ceiling hatch burst open, and two figures—a man and a woman—dropped down into the elevator.

"You...?!"

Satorodino reflexively reached for his weapon, but when he saw their uniforms, he held back.

"You're Satorodino?" asked Nordhausen, motioning the hotel employee aside and stepping forward.

"Yes..."

From the Minister of Internal Affairs to the Night Knights—Satorodino knew he'd just stepped into something very, very bad.

"Hand me your gun. You're coming with us."

Nordhausen didn't elaborate. He simply held out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Satorodino surrendered his ornate, gold-inlaid pistol.

...

The elevator stopped at the 35th floor. Satorodino followed Nordhausen and Arcia through several twists and turns until they stopped outside a guest room. Nordhausen knocked twice, then thrice more, following a preset code. The white-painted door soon opened.

Inside were three people. One man in Night Knight uniform stood by the bed. A woman in a black dress lay sprawled across it, arms and legs stretched wide, wearing a pair of cat ears on her head and what looked like a tail peeking out from behind her—clearly one of those "performers" from Willow Alley. (Inaya: (`皿´))

But when Satorodino saw Vichy, his eyes went wide.

"You? What are you doing here?!"

"Been half a year since we last met, hasn't it?" Vichy replied smoothly, walking toward him with a smug grin. "How have you been?"

"Why are they here? Did you bring these Night Knights?!"

Satorodino turned urgently toward Nordhausen, desperate for answers.

That this rat could've brought them here was just too absurd to believe.

"We're looking for a woman named Alice. We don't know her last name, but she used to work in Vichy's factory."

Nordhausen wasn't about to let Vichy steer the situation. Now that Satorodino was here, maybe he could offer something more useful.

"Alice? Doesn't ring a bell. But this guy—he used to sell factory girls to brothels. You might wanna look into that."

"Don't listen to his nonsense!" Vichy protested, seeing Arcia's icy glare and scrambling to defend himself. "I'll bring Alice to you myself!"

He reached for his gun—intending to silence Satorodino before he could say more.

Bang—

The shot rang through the room like a whip crack.

But the bullet never hit its mark. Nordhausen had already seized Vichy's wrist and forced the gun upward—the shot punched a hole in the ceiling.

"You—! You fired a gun?!"

Satorodino looked utterly panicked, but not from nearly being shot.

"What's wrong?" Nordhausen asked. This wasn't the look of someone who'd just cheated death.

"Let's hope that wasn't loud enough to be heard upstairs..."

Satorodino began pacing in a panic, no longer caring about appearances.

"Calm down," Edwin said, dragging him back toward Nordhausen. "Just answer what he asks, got it?"

He slapped Satorodino's face lightly to snap him out of it.

"Alright... I'll tell you everything."

After a moment of internal struggle, Satorodino made his decision. He shot a glance at Vichy but ultimately dismissed him.

"Barini Sigbodley, the Minister of Internal Affairs, is in a penthouse suite right now, meeting with someone. We'd better hope that shot didn't reach him..."

Satorodino had heard the rumors about the Internal Security Directorate under the Ministry. He had no desire to experience them firsthand.

"The Minister of Internal Affairs?" Nordhausen frowned and instinctively glanced at Edwin—who returned a look that said: Why are you looking at me?

BOOM—

A muffled explosion suddenly rocked the room, cutting short any further questions.

Everyone's head snapped toward the sound.

"Move!" Nordhausen shouted, rushing out the door with Edwin and Arcia close behind.

"Where are you going?!" Inaya scrambled off the bed, ready to follow, but paused when she looked at Vichy and Satorodino.

Go? Stay?

In the end, she plopped back down on the soft bed with a sigh.

"Damn it... you blockheaded soldiers..."