Smash and Grab was a shortened term for grabbing people to ask questions.

Being new to business, Yuri — Requiem — wasn’t exactly familiar with the process of friendly kidnapping. Instead, it was Dream who volunteered to perform the job.

This left Requiem alone — face-to-face with Samuel Wayward. Both men were resting in the shadowy alleyway cast by the pub they had greeted each other.

The atmosphere between them was focused around one word — chilly.

In the end, it was Wayward who broke the ice.

“So how did you join Dream’s motley crew?” said Wayward.

“He saved me from a beating,” Requiem answered.

Wayward chuckled, “I see. Dream’d love adopting strays.”

“He does,” Requiem agreed. “That is Dream for you — a symbol of camaraderie. I guess you wouldn’t understand that, given that you massacred your own friends in Venistalis.”

Wayward peered into the boy’s steely gaze, “Touché,” he said. “It is strange meeting people who aren’t afraid of me. Most people bolt the moment they know who I am and what I have done.” Wayward grinned. “You? You aren’t anxious at all. Tell me. How do you do it, Requiem?”

“I already got used to fear after being stabbed in the guts,” Requiem said. “Honesty time, I don’t trust you.”

Wayward sighed, “I never like that job for this exact reason.”

Requiem spared him no mercy, “You did it anyway. However, Dream trusts you despite your history of being an overpowered traitor. I want to ask why?”

“Why did I do it?” Wayward said, repeating the question. “Or do you want to ask why is your mentor — the flag-bearer of heroism — deign to trust me despite my history of treachery?”

“Both,” Requiem said.

“For the first question, it’s a job,” Wayward said. “I never like that order. Despite what you think, I care about the Royal Mages. However, I have my order. If I didn’t do it, the other guy would.” Wayward made a bitter face. “Trust me, you don’t want to meet that guy.”

“I sense a bloody history,” Yuri said.

“It is bloody,” Wayward confirmed. “Thankfully, that sadistic scumbag is dead,” he frowned, “well, at least I think he is dead.”

“Think?” Requiem said, confused at the term's usage.

“Dream can tell you about that bastard,” Wayward passed the baton to the man who wasn’t there. “Truthfully, I don’t believe that scumbag can die anymore. Anyway, Dream understands the circumstances, and the players involved. Plus, he owed me for introducing him to Vivian.”

Requiem nearly did a spit-take, “The goddess who created the curtain sealing the fairy?”

The young trainee wasn’t the only one who took the news in shock.

‘Vivian still lives?’ L said, stunned by the revelation.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Wayward said, turning away upon hearing a familiar footstep. “Well, look at what you have bought us.”

Dream was there with a body slung over his shoulder. Requiem didn’t know whether it was the use of Arcane or the Phantasian’s disturbing crime rate that allowed his mentor to carry a person around like a sack of potatoes without calling a massive swarm of law-enforcement. Maybe it was both.

“We have our intel,” Dream said, nodding toward the unconscious Dark Elf. “Wayward, where are you staying?”

…

The Arby the Dark Elves didn’t know what hit him.

One second he was exiting the bar after an exhausting day of tolerating loud coworkers, then he found himself seated on the chair surrounded by three guys in black. The only thing he remembered was gazing into those eyes filled with ethereal multicolor glows. The mesmerizing image still looped in his brain like a potent psychedelic.

Those same eyes belong to the hooded man in front of him. Beside that guy was a lanky man with blonde hair and a blue hair man who was fit enough to be a poster-boy for a military recruitment drive. Together, those three resembled an extremely hostile boy-band.

“Tea?” His kidnapper produced a porcelain cup and asked. “Or do you prefer something else?”

“Can I go?” Arby asked. He didn’t know how to respond to the strange civility from his kidnappers. “What do you want with me?”

“You can go anywhere once you answer some of our questions,” said his kidnapper cordially. “You can call me, Hal.” The hero gave the Elf the blatantly fake name. “The blue-hair with a punchable face is Simon.” Rem nodded to Requiem. “And our man of the hour over there is Guy. What should I call you?”

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The Elf hesitated.

Dream noticed the hesitation, and like a chef tuning the heat of a soup, precisely adjusted the interrogation.

“Look,” the Knight skillfully said. “I know it must be terrifying. You suddenly find yourself being imprisoned in the room with three strangers. I’m sorry this happened, but it must be done. Lives are on the line. You simply have to answer some questions, and you won’t hear from me or my friends ever again.”

“I don’t know,” the Dark Elf said. His posture relaxed a little once he realized he wasn’t in danger. “What questions do you want to ask?”

It was Wayward—aka Simon—who spoke up, “First, your name?”

“Arby,” the Dark Elf answered honestly.

“I thank you for cooperating, Arby,” Dream — aka Hal — said in a smooth, even tone. “I have noticed you have been hanging out with the wrong crowd this afternoon. Are you aware you are meeting with the members of the Wolf Hoard?”

That question got Arby in a knot. He began looking around like he expected a serial killer to emerge from the window.

Dream quickly assured him, “You don’t have to worry about interlopers, Arby.” Dream gestured to Yuri. “Our friend, Guy, had put up an isolation field. Whatever you say in this room will stay in this room. With us around, you are perfectly safe here.” Dream added some more observations. “Judging from your reaction, you know precisely why meeting with the member of Wolf Hoard might raise some concern.”

“We aren’t doing anything bad,” Arby said, defending himself.

“We?” Dream repeated. “Who is this we?”

Arby hesitated, “I,” he flinched. “I’m not sure I’m permitted to say this?”

Dream maintained his perfect patience, “Arby, I am here to help,” he gave the elf a drink, “have some tea. It will calm your nerves.”

Arby accepted the tea with much hesitation and took a sip. He felt his nerves relaxed.

“Okay,” Dream asked the question. “Who is this we?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” Arby said. “I think it is most of the Dark Elves, especially those of us close to the World Tree.”

Dream raised his eyebrows, “You mean the World Tree in Frisnia.”

“Y-Yes,” Arby said.

“Tell me about it,” Dream said. “I heard the rumor, but I want to hear the story from your perspective.”

As Dream expertly handled the interrogation, Yuri and Wayward observed him with curious respect. The Knight didn’t raise his voice or threaten the truth out of their suspect. Dream expertly aimed to gain the one thing every interrogator should target — cooperation. From the offering of tea to the introduction and the relaxing tone of the conversation, Dream worked to tear down the wall separating himself from Arby, introducing himself as an ally instead of a threat.

“We used to be close to the World Tree and the Frisnian,” Arby began. “But six-hundred years ago, our relationship broke down after some kind of expedition. The Frisnian chased us out and assumed the monitoring of the World Tree. We have been fighting for our rights ever since.”

Requiem, now Guy, added some inputs, “It must be hard, but why are the Dark Elves joining with the criminal organization like the Wolf Hoard?”

“W-What?” The nature of the question raised some alarm in Arby’s mind.

“My friend wasn't accusing your people, Arby,” Dream quickly smoothed over Requiem’s accidental ‘oops.’ “Allow me to rephrase that question. What'd changed? I know your effort must be hitting a wall, so what did you do to remedy it?”

Arby confessed with a depressed sigh, “We try to talk to them for years, but they keep ignoring us. Things got especially bad when we began hearing the World Tree begging for help.”

That got both Wayward’s and Dream’s attention.

“The World Tree talks to you?” Dream said. “What did it sound like? What did it say?”

“I only hear an echo,” Arby confessed, “But the more in-tune among us heard something about the ‘promise day,’” he paused in confusion, “And something about a ‘return’.”

Dream and Wayward looked at each other with genuine fear.

Requiem instantly knew the ‘return’ wasn’t a friendly concept.

Dream continued his questioning, “Let's put the Tree aside from now. Last I heard, your leaders joined force with Tai Tianshang. What've changed?”

Requiem felt T’s distress somewhere in the back of his mind.

“She lost,” Arby said. “We needed her help, but she couldn't do a damn thing. The higher-ups have to get help from elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Dream asked.

“I do not know,” Arby shrugged. “I’m too low on the totem pole. Only the higher-ups know who exactly they went to. The only thing I know is that we are suddenly helping the Wolf Hoard moves some cargos.”

“Cargos?” Dream said.

“Yes, I have no idea about this cargo, but it gave me a disturbing feeling,” said Arby.

“That is very helpful,” Dream said. “But can you tell me anything else that can help the World Tree? Something that sent a shiver down your spine like these Cargos. Any suspicious person.” His voice deepened. “I sense some doubt in you. What makes you feel that way?”

Arby’s face crunched. “Well, there is this clown.”

“A clown,” Dream said. The bad feeling in his stomach slowly built. “What is he like?”

“A weirdo in a creepy smiling mask and a circus costume,” Arby said. “I don’t know why, but the way he moved is…”

“Inhuman,” Dream suggested. “Disturbing.”

“Yeah,” Arby nodded.

“This is a final question, Arby,” Dream said, nodding toward Wayward. “Do you know anything about El Acerbia?”

“Acerbia?” Arby said.

It was Wayward who spoke, “The Director of the Isle of Knowledge. He is moving strangely in Danghai. What do you know about him?”

“I-I don’t know anything!” Arby said.

Dream offered the Dark Elf the tea, “I believe you, Arby. Here. Have some drinks?”

Arby watched the tea nervously, “I’m not thirsty.”

“What a shame,” Dream waved his hand in front of Arby and utilized the power of [Tenshou]. “Sleep and remember nothing of this dream.”

The wave of psychic power hit the Dark Elf like an expertly done masseuse, instantly knocking him into the dreamland.

…

After they delivered Arby to a safe place, the private meeting between the three resumed.

“He isn’t lying,” Dream said. “You also use [Tenshou], Wayward. You should feel every word he said is true.”

“Yes,” Wayward agreed as a fellow psychic. “Acerbia is moving independently to the Dark Elves and the Wolf Hoard.”

Requiem caught on pretty quickly, “You are saying there are two separate groups.”

“Maybe,” Dream mused. “I believe the clown is suspicious, and we need to investigate the cargos they are moving.”

“You have [Clairvoyance],” Wayward said. “What did you see?”

“A clown in a ringmaster costume and the darkness,” Dream said. “I need to be face-to-face with that guy to get the information. But one thing is for sure, the Dark Elves are being used.”

“Used?” Requiem asked. “How?”

It was Wayward who answered.

“The Frisnia’s World Tree is one of keystones supporting the curtain sealing the Fairy Realm,” said the most wanted S-Ranker in Phantasia. “With how out-of-control the Fae’s pollution of the Leyline had become, the Tree shouldn’t be able to communicate.”

That fact caught the trainee Knight by surprise.

“Then what is talking with the Dark Elves?” Requiem asked.

“It is either the Fairy,” Dream voiced his theory. “Or something much worse.”

…

Sixteen days until the Danghai’s Conference