"...Hey, did you hear about him?"

"Who?"

Two guards keeping watch over the entry of an incredible mansion were discussing, one slightly tense and the other unaware. They were equipped in complete steel plate armor, their eyes barely visible through the slits of their helmets. Swords were hanging at their waists, the last solution in case their magic rifles stopped working.

The first guard anxiously kicked a rock away, "You know, the one the boss messed with back when he still went Harvesting?"

The other guard scoffed, "What, that Evil's guy? Royce, you shouldn't believe the media too much"

"Devil's Hand, Boyer" Royce corrected, "They call him the Devil's Hand now. Shit, you know he's a war hero now?"

Boyer shrugged, "So what? I heard the Black Scythe and the Omniscient also appeared on these battlefields, why should I care about a Magi who just got a hold of his new powers? I'm sure he can't infuse his Specialty in his spells!" He paused and laughed mockingly, "Or worse! I'm sure he found some old grimoire with a shit ton of crazy spells formulas! He's just playing the public for fame."

Royce sighed and rubbed the back of his head, "...I hope you're right. Still, I heard he took on dozen of Grand Chevalier by himself, and that his left arm is purple with evil."

"Evil?" Boyer sneered and shook his head, "I know evil. That guy, the Devil's Hand, he's nothing evil. Our lord, though..." He grinned wickedly and rubbed his hands together, his rifle hanging loosely on his chest, "...He's another story. He, I can respect him."

Royce shivered and glanced around, "Hey, you know what our orders are. Don't say another word—I don't want to end up underground like Loris."

At the mention of this name, Boyer froze and gulped, his previous glee gone, "...Yeah, you're right. Let's just do our job and shut up."

"Yeah..." Royce lifted his helm slightly to take a breath and suddenly noticed a homeless man sitting against the wall surrounding the mansion.

"Hey, get the hell out of here!" He ordered as he kicked the homeless man in the leg. He was covered in a hooded cape that was practically the same color as the wall, hence why he hadn't noticed him earlier. The homeless guy grunted and pushed himself up weakly, his face hidden under an old, raggedy mask painted with a happy smile. Royce groaned and pulled the homeless on his feet, before pushing him away.

"Damn it, there always are some weird fuck hanging around here. Get the hell away, and don't let me see you again," He waved his rifle around threateningly, "Or I'll have to show you how this thing works!"

The homeless man adjusted his hooded cape back on his masked face, his left arm covered in old bandages. He limped away, holding the place he was kicked in. The second he was out of the guard's line of sight, he straightened himself up and dusted his pants off.

"...Two Grand Chevalier equipped with some sort of magical rifles...I'll have to ask Liam and Janica about those guns, and what they can do..." Glenn muttered as he strolled around the streets of Grimwalk.

'I'd like to say it will probably be enough with just Sahro and you, but we don't want to get fucked like last time, don't we?' Diamanes commented with a chilling laugh. Glenn's expression under his mask hardened as he remembered the three figures hanging in the wind, and Liam who was forced to rip his own heart out.

"...Why do I feel like bringing Giselle's grandson back is more of a side objective at this point?" Nelg asked with a dejected tone.

Glenn gritted his teeth, "I'll save Callum, that's for certain. But I can't let go of this opportunity of paying my debts back..." He sneered spitefully, fists clenched, "...Besides, that's a good thing for the world, isn't it? One less monstrous bastard always counts for something."

Diamanes' sole retort was a mocking laugh, while Nelg remained silent. This scouting operation had gone pretty well. Glenn had checked every entry point as well as the overall level of the guards. Most of them were Grand Chevaliers, Aura users at the fourth rank. The main entry was protected by a Magi too who should be specialized in Water-type magic, from Glenn managed to glance with Mana Sight. Grand Chevaliers weren't supposed to feel like easy opponents, but...Glenn couldn't help but feel like it would be easy to take care of them. Between Sahro's nonsensical speed and his own incredibly powerful spells, if they went all gun blazing it would probably be a walk in the park to enter the Howard's Manor.

But they couldn't do that. They couldn't risk Howard running off with his teleport door or taking Callum hostage.

"We need to look into the underground systems," Glenn suggested as he took to the metro direction Rustgate, District III. There was a Cleaner's Workshop there, and hopefully also Kevin.

"The best scenario would be to infiltrate the Manor, destroy the Teleportation Gate, and then proceed with the rest of the mission," He muttered aloud.

"Maybe the best way to do that would be to split up? Right now, we only have three individuals ready to fight; You, Sahro, and Liara. One of the three takes care of the Gate, the other of Callum, and the last of Howard," Nelg suggested. Glenn groaned in agreement.

'That could work...' He sighed as he stepped on the metro's dock, not slowing down the slightest as he headed for the Cleaner's Workshop.

'Hmm...I don't think Sahro would do too well with stealth. I think I'll send him after Callum, and Liara after the Gate,' Glenn drew a deep breath, his resolve steeled, '...And I'll take care of Howard myself. I'd love to see that Stormblade knight or whatever try to stop me again.'

Diamanes scoffed, 'If he's at the same level as a year ago, I'm not too worried. I'm pretty sure you'll obliterate him.'

"...Let's keep our expectations high," Nelg sighed, "...It won't do us any harm to overestimate our enemies."

Soon enough, Glenn was in the Cleaner's Workshop. He headed straight to the counter, ignoring the protests and groans of displeasure. The pretty attendant opened her mouth to send him back but said mouth quickly closed when she saw the emblem he was holding in his right hand, the INK-DEF emblem. Glenn adjusted his mask's position and sighed, "I need to meet with Kevin."

The attendant nodded, "Absolutely. He'll be here in a few minutes."

Glenn thanked her and went to sit in the waiting room, shamelessly choosing the most comfortable chair. Other Fixers glanced at him with annoyance, failing to recognize him with his disguise.

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"...It's pretty fun going around this way..." Glenn chuckled lightly, before shaking his head, "...Ah, the weight of fame..."

'Shut up.' "Dumb fuck." Both voices living in his mind mocked him, but Glenn dutifully ignored them, not letting them ruin his fun. Pebble rolled out of his chest pocket and fell in his open palm. It felt like the totally-not-sentient stone wanted to be out a little more, but Glenn could hardly find a reason to use one of his most powerful spells. There didn't seem to be anything worth using Pebble on, sadly.

Kevin suddenly appeared running, looking around confusedly as he searched for Glenn. The latter stood and walked up to the scrawny assistant, startling him with a pat on the back.

"S...Sir, do I know you?"

Glenn laughed, "Yes, you do. Let's get going, alright?"

Kevin's eyes lit up as he recognized Glenn's voice. He led him to a private discussion room, sealing it away from prying ears. Glenn dismissed his Mimetic cape with a thought and stored away his mask. Kevin sat in front of him and clasped his hands together with a small smile.

"What can I do for you, Sir Glenn?"

Glenn grinned and leaned back on the sofa he just sat on, "...Do you know about my...hmm, projects?"

Kevin raised an eyebrow, "Projects?"

"Yes," Glenn rubbed his chin and moistened his lips, "I need every piece of information you can find on Howard's Manor, mostly if you can look into underground passageways. Also, I need to be made aware of every weird rumor about him. Black magic, vampirism, sacrifices, but also kidnapping, slavery, drugs—anything that could prove useful, bring it back to me."

The scrawny assistant hurriedly scribbled Glenn's demands down, before suddenly pausing. He looked up with a puzzled look, "Why would you want to know about all of this? You're not planning an assault on the Baron Howard, are you?"

Glenn smiled silently as Kevin's face paled. The assistant concentrated back on his notebook, his eyes wide open in shock.

"Also, I need to be put in contact with Maron. Is there a way to back to the Fringe without having to go through all the usual administrative mess," He added.

Kevin nodded slowly before perking up, "Ah, were you not aware yet? The Maron Company created their first branch in the Bourgeoisie a week ago, I think it was in District XIX, Suncross."

"Suncross?" Glenn repeated as he made a mental note, "I'll check it out, thanks." He smacked his lips and creased his eyebrows, "Any news on when my team will receive the rewards for our contribution to the war?"

Kevin shook his head regretfully, "I apologize, Sir, I haven't heard anything about this. I did find you a teacher for your sister if you wish to meet him?"

Glenn waved his hand dismissively, "No, it's fine. I somehow managed to make the Restoration Operator her instructor, and we already have the best fighters to teach her how to defend herself. Still, thanks for looking."

The assistant smiled, "Of course. I'll be looking into the information you need and bring it over tomorrow at your mansion. Would that be fine?"

Glenn nodded with a grin, "Perfect. Excellent. I'll see you tomorrow, Kevin."

"Likewise, Sir," Kevin bowed slightly to suddenly pause, "Ah, also, you probably realized before, but your whole team has been cleared to use their powers as they like inside the Bourgeoisie."

Glenn's eyelids trembled slightly as he nodded, "Of course, yeah." Kevin smiled and left the room.

Glenn stretched with a groan, "...That's another thing done. Let's visit Suncross, then. It shouldn't be too hard to find Maron." He unwrapped the bandages covering his left arm, revealing the dark, purple skin under. He walked out of the Cleaner's Workshop with a wide, wicked grin as Fixers stared at him in shock and awe.

"Fame is great..." He laughed as he returned to the metro. It took only a dozen more minutes for him to arrive in the Suncross District. It was a lively District, with large open squares and lots of street performers. Glenn strolled through the streets, his hands in his pockets as looked for a sign to the Maron Company. There were countless small artisan shops—jewelers, watchmakers, and glassblowers, but also painters, high-quality tailors, and shoemakers.

The streets were large and paved cleanly, with luxurious steam-powered carriages moving in both directions constantly. Glenn stopped and looked up at a sign, his lips curving upward slightly.

"Maron Company... Here you are..." He muttered as he left in that direction. It didn't take him long to find a large office with pristine new brass letters printed on the top of the entrance, reading Maron Company. Glenn pushed the doors open with a wide grin, stopping at a wave of sound that hit him in the face. The building was bustling with noise, shouts, and strangely, the sound of printing machines. And beyond that, there was the noise of...swords clashing?

In an office?

Glenn frowned and invited himself in, navigating past overworked employees and piles of documents. He soon found the source of the fighting sound: a Black Heir he didn't know was clashing with Maron, who was heaving with difficulty as he ridiculously waved his sword around. The Black Heir looked like he was enjoying torturing the poor merchant, dancing around him while poking his victim. Glenn crossed his arms and waited at the entry, watching with a puzzled look.

'Maron becoming a fighter? I never expected that.' Diamanes suddenly commented, taken aback. Glenn nodded slowly, 'Me neither. But considering he's practically a living weapon, it's not a bad idea to train his body.'

Maron suddenly raised his hand helplessly, gasping for air, "S...Stop, huff, more and...and I'll seriously die, huff..." The Black Heir scoffed and threw the training sword away, suddenly noticing Glenn standing at the doorway. His eyebrows creased and he turned to Maron, "Boss, there's someone for you."

Maron wiped the sweat off his face and grunted, "...Who? Not that Baron bastard, I hope..." He looked up, his eyes lighting up when he recognized Glenn.

"Ah, Fixer Glenn! Or, should I call you the Devil's Hand?"

Glenn rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, "Stop joking around, Maron. You're training to become a fighter?"

Maron's face suddenly hardened, "Hell no."

"...Why all that, then?" Glenn couldn't help but ask, surprised. Maron patted his belly and grimaced, the Blumar replacing half his body gleaming softly under the magical lights, "I need to lose weight! I found out I weigh twice as much now with all that Blumar!"

Both Glenn and the Black Heir scoffed. The latter suddenly realized and went to offer a handshake to Glenn, "Nohre. Nohre Myhr."

Glenn shook the extended hand, "Glenn, but it looks like you already knew me. Giselle told you about me?"

Nohre sneered, "Hell if she did. How could I not recognize the oh-so-great "Devil's Hand"?" He glanced at the purple left arm and shook his head mockingly, "Just a freak if you ask me..."

Maron suddenly slapped Nohre in the back of the head, sending him away, "Shut it, Nohre. Damn it, that idiot is going to get himself killed if he continues acting this way..." The merchant sighed, "Anyway, what can I do for you, Glenn?"

Glenn crossed his arms and smiled, "First, congratulations! I'm sure it wasn't easy opening a branch here—"

Maron shook his head dismissively, "Oh, no, it was quite easy actually. I brought my whole team over and left only a skeleton crew behind in the Fringe. I already have connections with ten Barons and two Counts, so..."

Glenn slowly nodded, "Yeah, okay, no need to flaunt either. Heard about Baron Howard?"

The merchant frowned, “A despicable individual, yes. How could I not know him, when he used to appropriate forty percent of my company's income from time to time with his stupid Harvests?”

"Well," Glenn grinned and rubbed his hands together, "You might have the opportunity to help me get back at him. I need intel, and..." He glanced at Nohre doing push-ups further away, "...Maybe manpower. How the hell did you even manage to get a Black Heir to come with you?"

Maron shrugged, "Oh, you know, as long as you make them appear as slaves, the concerned authorities are more than pleased to let them in. Some nobles specialize in slave trading, and most guards know that Black Heirs are a prized product. And with my reputation as a merchant..." He smiled and dusted his hands off, "Giselle sent Nohre and a few others to help me out and to create a direct connection between here and the Sewers. Oh, their living conditions improved tremendously since the last time you went there. You could hardly call that place the Sewers anymore."

Glenn nodded with a grin, "That's good to hear," He squinted and used Mana Sight, moistening his lips when he found out that Nohre was a rank three Aura user, a Knight, "...Are they all as strong as Nohre?"

"Yes. Six Black Heirs with strength rivaling some Black-Gold Fixers," Maron proudly looked at Nohre, before pausing in realization, "Wait, why would you need intel and manpower to go against Baron Howard? Do you intend to...?"

Nohre perked up as heard Howard's name. Glenn grinned widely, his smile mirroring almost perfectly the one often found in his left hand's palm.

"Yes, you guessed right. I'm going to murder Howard and bring Giselle's grandson back. And I'm going to need your help for that."