"Hng..." Glenn grunted, struggling to open his eyes. When he eventually did, he found himself in his room, cuddled in his bed under a thick bedspread. The young man winced and pushed away the covers before sitting himself up.

You look like you could use a vacation,” Diamanes remarked, unabashedly. Glenn frowned and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes.

So, that was yet another meeting with a god, then? Could Diamanes see this one or was it censored—?

'AH, STOP THIS! I ALREADY TOLD YOU I HATE THOSE LOUD BEEPS!' The entity yelled out in pain. Glenn smirked.

"You should just try to stop looking where you shouldn't, Diamanes."

The entity groaned disapprovingly, 'Yeah, sure, whatever.'

Glenn yawned and leaned back in the bed, pondering. The Bloodblade, the God of the Brotherhood of Iron and Blood. He seemed pretty chill, for a God. Hah. So he was at that point when meetings with Gods were just relaxed events, then? Wait, no, meeting with good Gods was chill. He couldn't say his encounter with the Mother back in Palancar had been a pleasant one.

'What the hell did He mean by taking a step back? Was the Bloodblade explicitly telling me to go on a vacation too? Is this the solution to my mental hiccups?' Glenn rubbed his chin, wincing a little as he thought back to his breakdown from earlier. He still had a hard time believing his psyche was the only reason for it. Corruption had probably played a part, as did the recent traumatic events. That Divine Intervention: Duel that the Corrupted Vladimir used had also unleashed something he didn't quite like.

Perhaps the breakdown was a culmination of all these things? Maybe he almost succumbed to Corruption? That was twice in not that many months. Perhaps he should try to keep away from Corrupted Ones for a while, to make sure his sanity wouldn't explode in little bits at the sign of another Corrupted. Glenn moistened his lips and thought back to the last part of his conversation, that thing about becoming the monsters one fought.

Was he becoming what he was fighting?

"No, evidently, I'm not at the point of sacrificing half a hundred children, so no...but I did kill someone for...almost no reason?" He muttered doubtfully, unable to believe his own acts. Killing Blorg was...nonsensical. Why did he do that? Sure, he was angry due to that idiot not doing his job and leading to the deaths of dozens of people, but that didn't wager his termination, did it?

...Did it? But then, even if Blorg's death was justly deserved, who was he to be the one executing it? He was a mercenary, not a cop nor the sword of divine punishment. Was he getting too used to taking care of things in his own hands?

Probably.

"Sigh..." Glenn shook his head, his throat dry. He jumped out of his bed and almost summoned his Imoogi suit, but decided against it at the last second. That suit was completely drenched in blood after his fight with the Corrupted, and even though he cleaned it with an Aqua Mundare, it would not harm to leave it in his soul for a while. Following that line of thought, his entirely white Lightwalker suit appeared and covered him from head to toe. It still felt weird to be entirely dressed in white, instead of the black he was used to, but he didn't dislike it.

'Getting stylish always feels good,' Diamanes agreed, unaware or pretending not to know of his host's concerns and fears. Glenn adjusted his sleeves and came out of his room, finding Liara and Milena right in the middle of a heated discussion. Liara's mouth shut closed when she heard the door open, not allowing Glenn to hear her voice. Milena jumped and ran to him, grabbing both of his shoulders.

"What the fuck happened, Glenn? I—" She grimaced and took a small breath, "—We heard of what you did to Blorg. I know he was an entitled asshole but to the point of...?" She trailed off when she saw the dark expression on Glenn's face. She let go of him and took a step back, resigned, before going back to the sofa she was previously sitting on. Liara hadn't moved, only following the exchange with worried eyes.

Glenn closed his eyes for an instant, before sighing and going for the Mini-Fridge. He threw a random alcohol bottle in it, and swiftly changed it to soda. Alcohol would probably suit his situation better, but he didn't feel like drinking.

'How surprising. I thought you would have succumbed to that hidden alcoholism instead of going back to processed sugar,' Diamanes remarked mockingly. Glenn dismissed the entity's words by ignoring them. He took the bottle out of the Mini-Fridge after the transformation process and poured it down his throat.

'...Sparkling orange juice? Weird,' Glenn thought as he proceeded to drink the entirety of the bottle. He contained a burp and collapsed in an armchair, leaning back into it with a grunt. The two ladies were watching silently, waiting for him to say something.

Finally, Glenn opened his mouth.

“...I don't know what happened,” he muttered, looking down at the bottle he'd just finished, ”...I suspect it's the fault of a cocktail of PTSD, Corruption, and a twisted Divine power. But it's more likely to be my brain flipping out...” He explained without concern for their understanding. Milena and Liara looked at each other, puzzled. Milena bit her lip and frowned.

"...Are you okay?" She asked hesitantly. Glenn looked at the ceiling for a second, seriously pondering on the question.

"...Hmm...probably not. As a matter of fact, I'm probably very not okay. BUT—" He stopped Milena before she could reply, "—but, that's normal. I'll eventually get better, faster, stronger, so don't worry too much."

Diamanes sneered, 'Really?'

Milena blinked in confusion, "Better, faster, stronger? What do you mean?" She paused and shook her head, "Wait, no, that doesn't make any sense. Listen, during the five hours you slept in, we went and met with the Workshop. We thought we were going to need to defend you for killing that asshole, but instead..." She pointed at a letter resting on the coffee table nearby that Glenn had failed to notice, "...they gave us this. I...I don't know about you, Glenn, but it might be time to run away to either another town of the Fringe or straight up to the Bourgeoisie. Going up means starting over, so..." Milena didn't finish her sentence, instead crossing her arms inquisitively.

Glenn smacked his lips and held his hand out, pulling in the letter with Gravity Manipulation. He glanced at Milena and Liara for a second and then opened the letter.

"Hrm," he cleared his throat, "To the esteemed member of the Fixer program of the Cleaner Workshop, Glenn, from Manalok Calopea Truant, HCD (Head Cleaner Director).

"I have heard of the event surrounding the event of a recently hired Cleaner, Blorg Borimor, and their death at your hands."

Glenn gulped while also coming to a realization. 'I knew I heard that name before, Manalok. The Restoration Fucker has the same family name! Does prestige run in that family? And shit, am I getting fired?'

Without further ado, the young man kept on reading aloud for the girls to also learn of the letter's contents.

"In my capacity of HCD, I can cover up for his incident, in exchange for a small service. As you might have remarked, a lot of Cleaners are unable to work on-site, at least in the Fringe. This is due to a certain situation which I am forbidden from mentioning in a letter for security reasons.

"My request would either be to replace Mr. Borimor in his post as a Cleaner, or, assist to the best of your ability in that previously mentioned situation. If you prefer that second solution, I'll invite you to give the letter to your assistant, Kevin Lashtar, and tell him of your choice. In exchange, you will not have to pay for your crime, and will also receive the Platinum rank. Therapists will also be available if needed, to treat the probable cause of your outburst against Mr. Borimor.

"Of course, you're free to bring your party with you, as is your privilege as a high-ranked Fixer.

"And to conclude, let it be known that the previous private mission I mentioned shouldn't stop you from completing your own goals.

"This is a win-win proposition, and I remain hopeful that you will agree to it.

"Yours truly, HCD Manalok Calopea Truant."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Silence took over the room as Glenn, Milena, Liara, and Javier thought about the letter's contents.

...

Javier? Glenn jumped from his seat when he noticed the Pale Son standing nearby, his arms crossed and his expression as empty as ever. He looked even paler than before, his skin almost translucid, while his eyes were completely black now, with barely any white in them. And strangely, he did look a little more buff than since the last time Glenn saw him.

But that wasn't the subject of the discussion.

"Javier, when did you get here?" Glenn asked while looking at the hunter. The ladies turned around and also jumped from their seats when they noticed Javier.

Ah, so he wasn't the only one who hadn't noticed that guy!

'Once a creep, always a creep...' Diamanes mentioned with a disgruntled tone. Glenn smirked.

'At least he's the stealthiest, most capable of all creeps.'

Javier's answer, as usual, was to stare back at Glenn with empty eyes. Milena, once her surprise had passed, dashed to Javier and hugged him happily.

"Javier! Where did you go? I missed seeing you!" She exclaimed excitedly. Glenn rubbed his eyes, distrusting his sight.

But no; he was seeing what he was seeing.

Javier was frowning. This confirmed one thing: Milena was the only individual in this world able to make Javier change expression. The Silent Hunter didn't reply to Milena's hug, letting her do whatever she wanted, all with a light, almost imperceptible frown. Liara chuckled lightly at the scene, inviting a smirk on Glenn's lips.

After bothering Javier for another five minutes, Milena sat back next to Liara, while Javier took a seat on the least comfortable-looking chair in the room.

"So, what do we do, then? Are you going to become a Cleaner, Glenn?" Milena asked a little doubtfully. Glenn shook his head.

"No. I refuse to be tied down to an organization. My position as a Fixer/mercenary is more than enough. I think I'll go with that secret mission Truant spoke of, if it's not a suicide one. I'll learn a bit more about it and share it with y'all. This way..." He paused and looked at the floor, lost in thought, "...This way, you get to choose whether you want to continue following me or not. I'm aware I'm not...in the best state currently, so maybe the best choice is—"

"Yeah shut up." Milena interrupted him, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand.

"We'll leave if we want to, and we'll follow if we want to. You don't get a word in the matter."

Glenn stared blankly at her for a moment, then at Liara, who nodded, and at Javier, who just...did his Javier's thing. Glenn sneered and shook his head.

"You're all adults, you do whatever you want. Don't complain the next time I almost become Corrupted and try to kill you all—"

“Stop joking about it, you moron!” Milena slapped him on the arm, causing him to chuckle. Liara merely smiled, her chin resting on her two clenched fists.

“You should listen to her, loser,” says a male voice behind him, surprising everyone once again. Except Javier, of course. Javier probably doesn't know what “surprise” means. Glenn turned and grinned broadly as he discovered a handsome man in desert-appropriate clothing, with green eyes and a left arm made of crackling thunder. An easily recognizable white mark was drawn on his forehead, gleaming softly with potential power. A long, curved sword hung from his back, the leather scabbard battered and the wooden hilt worn.

"You fucker—when did you come back to the Northern Town, Sahro?" Glenn exclaimed as he went to shake his friend's hand. Sahro shook it enthusiastically, grinning from ear to the other.

"Just today. I'll be straight with you, this mission was a shitty one, and I sure won't be getting in any more Cleaner business. This shit stinks!"

Glenn paused for a second. Was Sahro always so...vocal? He wasn't speaking in this manner before, was he?

"What kind of hell did you go through, for you to be so annoyed by it?" Glenn asked as he went back to the sofas and invited Sahro to sit. The Black Heir shook his head dejectedly.

"Listen, that's secret business. I can't speak of it even if I wanted to. Magic contract or some shit."

Glenn nodded slowly, still confused by this...new Sahro. Was he influenced by someone during his mission? This sure felt weird.

'What, are you jealous that your friend is learning from someone else than you?' Diamanes jeered mockingly, making his host frown.

'Seriously, this isn't disturbing you?'

Diamanes pondered for an instant, before sending the mental equivalent of a shrug to Glenn's mind. The young man shook his head and sighed.

"Anyway, seems like everyone's there. I have one last meeting to go through, and up to the Bourgeoisie, we go," Glenn decided, Manalok Calopea Truant's letter clenched in his hand. Sahro grinned, leaning back on the sofa comfortably. Javier did not react, as usual, while Milena and Liara looked at each other and smiled.

"On those words, I'll be back," Glenn said as he left for the suite's exit. He paused in front of the door and looked back, "...Try to not burn my place down, alright?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Fuck off, man."

Glenn chuckled as he left his suite. It didn't take long for him to head to the Cleaner's Workshop Main Hall, finding Kevin sitting there uncomfortably, his notepad clenched against his chest. The assistant flinched when he noticed Glenn's gaze. He then shot on his feet, almost running for his boss.

"S...Sir Glenn! I...Are you okay? I've heard of the matter with—"

Glenn raised his hand, interrupting Kevin. He handed him the letter, giving him a few minutes to read it.

"I'll take the mission, Kevin. Lead me to Truant," He ordered, his eyes glimmering with a strange glint. Kevin gulped and turned away, leading Glenn deep into the Cleaner's Workshop hallways. They eventually arrived in front of a discreet ebony door, almost hidden amidst the stone walls. Kevin knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds, before pushing it open and leading Glenn inside. It was a very bare room, with two chairs separated by a desk. No windows, no decorations, nothing besides the chairs and desk. Kevin gulped, and looked around for an instant, before bowing to Glenn.

"P...Please be patient for a bit, Sir Manalok will be there anytime soon. I'm forbidden from staying, so..." He struggled with his words, before finally whispering, "...Good luck, Sir Glenn."

Glenn chuckled and shook his head dismissively.

"Thanks, Kevin. You're free to go."

Kevin ran off without a second thought, leaving Glenn alone in the strange meeting room. The young man crossed his arms and looked around the room for a moment, even using Mana Sight to inspect the walls, doing anything to try and keep his mind off the Blorg incident. He couldn't find anything, though, not even a trace of Mana.

'He deserved to die and even looked for it, Glenn. So stop thinking such boring thoughts and do something more interesting already!' Diamanes complained, shaking Glenn's thoughts. The young man sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"...I can't think the same as you, Diamanes..." He muttered as he sat on one of the two chairs. As soon as his bottom touched the chair, something changed in the room, something that he couldn't quite understand. Glenn blinked, only to realize that an old man was staring at him from across the desk, his hands clenched and his eyes hidden behind reflective glasses. He had long white hair that reached for his waist, alongside a similarly long beard, and was wearing plain black pants and a blue shirt. Glenn could still discern the quality of the fabrics, which looked even better than the Lightwalker suit he was wearing.

The old man chewed on something for an instant, before clearing his throat.

"So, hmm, you're the..." He mumbled, searching for his words. Glenn tried to keep himself from frowning, wondering if the individual that had just spawned out of nowhere was Manalok Calopea Truant, or some random, senile old man.

"...the guy, with the purple thing, and the murderer too, hgn..." The old man kept on mumbling and chewing, still not making much sense to Glenn.

"...hgn...?Ahh, uhm, no, the...lad who...with Redan, right?" Glenn's eyes widened when Truant mentioned Redan. He hesitantly opened his mouth, still unsure of the old man's identity.

"Yes, I am...I'm Glenn, a Dark-Gold Fixer and a...friend of Redan."

The old man passed his hand through his beard, pondering for an instant. He slowly took his glasses and placed them on the desk, revealing a scar reaching from one eye to the other, rendering them completely unusable.

"Yes, Glenn." The old man spoke in a voice much clearer than earlier. Glenn's blood suddenly froze in his veins as he felt a wave of something strange pass through his body.

'Aurhg, that's this disgusting, death-related power! This, this filthy stuff, urgh!' Diamanes retched inside Glenn's mind, confirming that something was wrong. The old man slowly leaned forward and smiled.

"So, Glenn. You killed Blorg, one of our Cleaners. That was probably due to an unstable mind, which was caused by the many, traumatic adventures you had, as well as your meetings with unspeakable existences. Hell, you even went in the Beyond and lived to tell the tale." The old man chuckled clearly, sending a shiver down Glenn's spine. So that act about being an old coot was an act.

"Usually, I'm not too fond of investing myself in the personal matters of my Cleaners. Being a Cleaner means being strong enough to hold that name. If they die, that's their responsibility. There's no real law against murder in the Fringe, after all. Well, murdering mundane citizens is still worth execution, but you're not of that kind, are you, Glenn?" Truant asked a sudden pressure pushing down on the young man. Glenn clenched his teeth and released his Mana, pushing against the pressure the best he could.

"I...I don't take pleasure in killing unless the killed is a monster..." Glenn struggled to say, gasping between each word for air. The old, blind man shrugged, and the force pressuring Glenn increased tremendously. Glenn's forehead crashed against the desk violently as his limbs went limp.

"...Are you sure, Glenn?" Truant asked coldly, the pressure continuing to increase. Glenn felt as if a blade was running down his neck, ready to slice at any moment if he lied.

Forced by the old man's might, Glenn spat truthfully, "Yes, I am fucking sure, you old fuck!"

Truant's eyebrows rose and his whole body went still. A long second passed until the old man chuckled and freed Glenn from the pressure. Glenn coughed and pushed himself up, his Mana flaring up as he prepared to defend himself against further testing. Truant waved his hand dismissively and suddenly Glenn's Mana disappeared, the spells he was preparing dismissed like nothing.

'Glenn, activate your Mana Sight NOW!' Diamanes shouted in Glenn's mind. Promptly, the young man obeyed and activated Mana Sight. The room, which was previously empty of any Mana trace, was now filled with an ocean of black ink, with six threatening rings humming at its center. Glenn's eyes widened as Truant grinned and flicked his fingers, somehow managing to block his Mana Sight like he did for all the rest of his magic.

“Uh-oh, it's very impressive for someone as young as you to master the art of Mana Sight. But it's still rude to inspect someone else without their permission, you know? I haven't even given you my name, so I don't think we're close enough for you to do what you want.”

Glenn's heart raced as he found himself unable to answer. Truant rubbed his chin, frowning.

"Ah, but that is my fault. Let me present myself."

The old, blind grinning man in front of him was an Archmagi, a being possessing Six Circles of power. While brushing his beard and leaning back in his seat, the old man laughed.

"My name is Manalok Calopea Truant, the Head Cleaner Director. It's a pleasure to meet you, Glenn."