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Chapter 44 Slippery Slope

Asher pushed open the door to the conference room, the familiar scent of polished wood and lingering tobacco filling his nostrils. Laughter bubbled within, a sound he hadn’t heard from Captain Bolard before, piquing his curiosity. He glanced at Clarissa beside him, noting the quirk of her eyebrow—a silent cue that she was equally intrigued.

The room was bright, sunlight streaming through the tall windows, illuminating the faces gathered around the table. At the center was Captain Bolard, a jovial smile spreading across his rugged face. To his left sat Jack, a striking figure with tousled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He exuded confidence, tall and muscular, with an ease that suggested he was comfortable in his skin. Asher noted the slight glimmer of recognition in Jack’s eyes, a camaraderie built from their shared profession.

“Ah, Asher! Just in time!” Bolard exclaimed, gesturing for him to join them. “We were just discussing Jack’s latest findings. You’re going to want to hear this.”

“Nice to meet you, Asher,” Jack said, standing to offer a firm handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Jester, right? Step 9?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Asher replied, reciprocating the handshake. “And you’re the Demon Hunter, I assume? I’ve heard you’re the best.”

Jack’s smile widened, a hint of pride flickering in his eyes. “I do what I can. Glad to have another descender on board."

Asher took a seat, still processing the warmth of the introduction. “So, what’s this about?”

Jack’s demeanor shifted as he leaned forward, the laughter fading from the room. “We suspect the smuggling operation we’ve been tracking is tied to some serious criminal activity. Human trafficking is a possibility, but we need more evidence before we can act.”

“Human trafficking?” Clarissa echoed, her brow furrowing. “That sounds serious. What do we know?”

“Not much yet,” Jack admitted, his gaze intense. “But the patterns are troubling. We’ve seen signs of movement—shipments that don’t add up. It’s like they’re covering their tracks—”

Before he could finish, a sudden knock interrupted them. Asher exchanged glances with Clarissa, his heart racing.

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“Come in!” Bolard called, his voice echoing in the silence that followed.

The door swung open, revealing Melody, a fresh-faced newcomer to the firm. Her large, innocent eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and she wore an oversized trench coat that seemed far too big for her slight frame.

“Hello, Melody. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon,” Asher said, stepping forward. “I wanted to apologize for my actions towards you.”

Melody’s eyes widened, and she blinked in surprise. “Oh! Um, it’s okay! I mean, it was a little scary at first, but I’m sure you were just being cautious, right?”

He nodded, grateful for her understanding. “Exactly. It was nothing personal.”

“Hey, everyone!” she chirped, oblivious to the serious atmosphere. “I just had the most amazing idea for our next operation! What if we dress up as heroes and infiltrate the enemy base? I’ve got a whole costume design planned out!”

Jack blinked, momentarily taken aback by her exuberance. “Um, that’s... creative?”

Asher couldn’t suppress a chuckle at Melody’s earnestness. “You know, we’re not exactly playing dress-up here, right?”

Melody turned to him, her eyes wide with excitement. “But imagine how epic it would be! We could take down the bad guys in style!” She paused, her expression shifting as she leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve read all the novels about this! We could totally pull it off!”

“Right,” Clarissa said, stifling a grin. “But let’s focus on the real situation first, okay?”

As Melody pouted, Jack leaned back in his chair, a bemused smile on his face. “I think we could use a bit of that enthusiasm around here.”

Jack’s demeanor shifted again, the excitement from Melody’s entrance dissipating as he adopted a more serious tone. “Additionally,” he began, his voice steady, “the person of interest I’ve been searching for is directly linked to this case. I’m referring to the red-haired woman from the Jesters' Guise case. It’s imperative that everyone working on this case reads her dossier. She is dangerous—extremely dangerous. And to make matters worse, the powers of her relic are unknown.”

His words hung in the air, casting a heavy pall over the room. The tension was palpable, and all eyes turned to Captain Bolard, silently seeking his guidance. He remained quiet, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, the smoke curling around him as he slipped into deep thought. Minutes ticked by, and a respectful silence enveloped the room; nobody dared to voice their impatience.

But as the silence stretched into five minutes, Clarissa, unable to hold back, squirmed in her chair. “Captain! What do we do?” she blurted out, breaking the stillness.

Captain Bolard opened his eyes slowly, a deep sigh escaping him before a faint smile appeared on his face. “Asher and Jack, you will take this case. Everyone else is off effective immediately.” His gaze shifted to the duo. “I want you two to focus on investigating the security company in detail. I want to know what they had for breakfast tomorrow before they even know it themselves. Do you understand?”

Asher and Jack exchanged determined glances and nodded firmly, with Asher adding, “Yes, sir.”

Just then, the door creaked open again, and Liz entered, balancing a saucer laden with steaming cups of tea and freshly baked croissants. “Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you all might need a little pick-me-up,” she said, setting the tray down on the table with a soft smile.

“Perfect timing, Elizabeth! Thank you,” Bolard replied, his mood visibly lifting as he reached for a cup. The aroma of the tea filled the air, blending with the remnants of tension.

Asher grabbed a croissant, its buttery warmth melting in his mouth as he took a bite. “This is fantastic,” he said, savoring the taste.

“Glad you like it!” Liz beamed before taking her leave, the atmosphere in the room brightening significantly.

The team exchanged smiles, the camaraderie strengthened by the shared moment. As they prepared to tackle the investigation, the croissants seemed to fuel their resolve, blending the urgency of their task with the warmth of their