"Swap insights?"

He nodded with a helpless shrug, "As a fundamentalist, it's kind of impossible for me not to try and understand everything there is to comprehend about this power."

That finally brought a little smile to her face. "Right, right," she nodded for some reason. "What do you have in mind?"

"Madame strictly warned me against sharing anything unique about my personal viewpoint or the secrets of the Conductor pathway. So I apologize if that's what you have in mind."

Conductor? he repeated that name to himself. That was a fitting moniker for someone who was doing that magic back in the factory. It indeed seemed like a coordinated orchestra conducted by her.

Filing that information away, he shook his head, "Don't worry, I don't need to know anything too personal. I'm just looking for general insights into what you've figured out in your time as an Observer of a domain that manages people. Feel free to replace core ideas with similar notions."

After watching her struggle for a second or two, he added, "Or say nothing at all if it can't be spoken without exposing your singularity."

She shook her head, "No, no. I'm just unsure what to even talk about."

"Ahh!" He pointed at himself and spoke in a low voice, "I, for example, can manipulate the layout of our surroundings through a notion similar to chaos."

He then pulled out the spoon from his cup and added, "Within each object, there are myriads of nuances like its integrity, fulcrums, patterns, and designs that I need to understand before I can do much of anything."

Making sure no one else was paying them attention, he squinted, and the spoon which he'd held from one end bent on its own.

Cera's eyes sparkled at the demonstration as she nodded. "I…see."

After another bite, she spoke up, "Well, in that case, I suppose I can talk about the connections between people that I observe." She then slowed down, letting out every word after thinking it over again and again, "Where you see physical structures and integrity, I see invisible threads binding everyone together."

She looked around the cafe before her sight settled on the two waiters by the counter. "Take those two, for example," she nodded subtly toward them. "On the surface, they're just colleagues doing their jobs. But there's so much more—shared experiences, unspoken agreements about who handles which tables, tiny adjustments in their movements to avoid colliding, and so much more."

Vern perked up, "So it's possible to perceive the qualities of relationships directly? Like how I can see the fulcrums of a building's framework?"

He didn't mind sharing these little things. By themselves, they couldn't be used to pinpoint his singularity. If it was that simple, no one in this world would be safe.

Cera stared past him in thoughtful silence before shaking her head. "I don't think it's that simple. Buildings and architectures are typically rigid in their properties, but human connections, on the other hand?" she chuckled, her hand covering her lips.

"The connections aren't just static threads. They're constantly shifting, harmonizing, or creating discord. When I use my abilities, I can gauge their tempo and rhythm—and once you see the myriad threads, conducting is like weaving those threads together so they pulse at a pace that better matches those around them."

Vern raised his eyebrows, finding it hard not to pull out his notepad and just start jotting her words down. There were some deep truths hidden within them, and he was finding it hard to grasp all of them right away.

So, does she say and do things that cause these threads to surge and ebb in a more harmonious state? That was…interesting. This was to say that rather than micro-managing each person, she was looking at it from a broader perspective and doing things that led the whole ship in a better direction.

A fascinating way to go about it.

He'd been thinking about it quite differently until now, but this gave him a new angle on how to handle relationships. Not that I can copy this idea wholesale. The Arbiter pathway had a philosophy that was quite different from that of the Conductor.

The former was about neutrality, whereas the latter promoted taking the role of a guide. But the underlying concept of reconciling relationships exists in both.

Eyes shining with enthusiasm, Vern asked, "So you had to figure out exactly what works and what doesn't to make the people around you more susceptible to conduction? That must've been hard."

If he had to guess, it would require a lot of trial and error to figure out what helped a certain group and what didn't.

Cera's face reddened, and before he could worry about it, she shook her head, "No, most of it was either suggested by Madame or written in the Observation Record. I simply followed them."

"Ah."

Well, that's what Observation records exist for. It was funny how his own experience of not having a solid path had biased his thought process so deeply he didn't even entertain the idea until she reminded him.

He shrugged, "If it was that simple, Helena Von Arden would've had a hundred more people under her. No need to undermine your achievements."

Cera's cheeks flushed again, and she focused on the food, this time embarrassed for a different reason. Nonetheless, he saw a hint of pride in that expression, too.

That was good. She wasn't as low on self-esteem as he'd thought.

Soon, he gave another analogy for how his own structure focused powers worked, prompting a response from Cera that enlightened him further on how to handle relationship fundamental.

-- x -- x -- x --

Vern leaned back in his chair, changing the topic to something less abstract—there was only so much theory he could take in at a time, "So, what did Von Industries want from me? The letter said it'll be explained at the site."

Cera slapped the table, straightening her back, "Ah, right! Totally forgot about that." A hint of urgency slipped into her demeanor once again, and she began sorting the cutlery as she answered, "Alistair wanted someone to handle the implementation of this new weapon commissioned by the crown. He might've explained this already, but what little of fundamentalists still retained by Von industries are already stretched too thin to work on something new."

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

She then shot him a side glance, "He asked me for suggestions, and I recommended you…"

"Ah…" that made sense. He'd been wondering how this Alistair—young master of Von Industries came to send him a personal letter. A fundamentalist with the emblem of a savant was rare, but Von Industries had surely employed many of even higher caliber.

"Thank you, Cera," he replied, looking straight back into her eyes.

She held the gaze for the briefest of instant before she jolted and got up, "Don't worry. Let's go. I'll explain more once we have the design plans in front of us. Also, if you want, I can assign people to work under you on this project. No fundamentalists, though. Not enough of them to go around."

With a devious glint in his eyes, he replied at once, "Sure, can you assign Ms. Cera Blackthorn to me?"

This time, it was her turn to be speechless. "Ah, uh, umm…"

Vern chuckled and used the chance to pay the tab. It would've been devastating if the lady insisted on paying when he was the one who invited her. This made it so she was too flustered to know which issue to complain about.

Chuckling to himself, he escorted her out.

-- x -- x -- x --

He passed one large hall after another as he tried to make sense of the directions De Flanc had given him.

It was even harder because his mind was occupied with juggling all the tasks at hand. He'd started on the weird large-scale weaponry at Von Industries that surely surely won't be utilized for some convoluted war yesterday.

On the other hand, he'd handed out the design for a 'doorless' basement to Beaumont to get the approval of their landlord, who was still scared shitless.

For good reasons, too. The terror of the reaper was real. It was all over the news. He was claiming a life every day without fail, and later in the evening, evidence of the victim's crimes would turn up at one of the police stations.

Quite a few nobles had suddenly begun to lead better lives filled not with debauchery and arrogance but with passion and love.

Not all of them, obviously, but who was to say they won't be the next target?

Soon, he found the room he was looking for and entered it inconspicuously with a big sack on his shoulder after three knocks and no response.

A pointy-hat-wearing man was lying on the couch by the hearth, an open book covering his eyes as his snores echoed in the room.

Vern dropped the sack. Thump!

"Aah, what the heck!" shouted the startled old man as he shot back up, looking around in dazed alertness.

Vern wanted to sigh, but he held it in and declared, "Here's my end of the deal."

Cedric's sleepiness instantly fizzled away, and he stood up, dragging the sack by the couch with swift steps.

"Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, can know that I brought these to you." Vern threatened, towering over the old man who was grinning from ear to ear as he went through the sack full of 'special' novels.

"Heh, kid, you act like you haven't gone through some of them already," Chuckled Cedric, his grin becoming more lecherous by the second.

The urge to take a bath in cleansing alcohol to purge away the mental toxins emanating from Cedric was real. Unfortunately, he'd hunted down this pervert for more than just delivering the goods.

"Old man, tell me," he began, entirely ignoring the previous comment.

Cedric nodded, not even looking up as he flipped through one book after another.

"Where can I find an item that symbolizes peace?"

"Oh?" the pointy-hat shifted back as Cedric squinted, "Looking for a resonant catalyst, are we?"

He's sharp, Vern hissed. He hadn't mentioned anything about catalysts, but the old fogie still guessed it on the first try.

Not in mind to lie for no reason, he nodded.

Cedric didn't stop. He continued perusing through one book after the other, but a thoughtful look crossed his eyes before he finally stopped to say, "I don't think anything in the whispering repository or the resource chamber fits the bill right now—though Selena might know better."

Huh…interesting. He didn't even think in that direction. Was that to say anything in the whispering repository can also be used as a resonance catalyst?

Well, maybe not everything. Some of the items were just too risky to even stay in the vicinity of, much less be absorbed into one's perception. He remembered the stories Captain Shinsei had told him when he'd just started out at Vigil.

Before he could think this through, Cedric added, "Well, I guess it's for the better anyway."

Frustratingly, the old man stopped there, not adding a word beyond that. Vern played along, knowing this was how Cedric liked it, "Why is that better?"

"Good question." There, he stopped again, his eyes focused on an 'illustration.'

After a while, he spoke, "Ah, yeah, it's better for two reasons. One, because it's been in the vicinity of so much subjectivity pollution that the possibility of succumbing to whisper goes up when one consumes such items. Then, second…"

Vern watched him blankly stare at another illustration, quite a tame one this time, for a long time before he added, "The second is quality. Not much of the good stuff is left unused. There's always a shortage of useful resonant catalysts, and if one exists within hand's reach, you'd bet someone's willing to pay an astronomical price for it."

"Ahh…" that made sense. Somewhat.

"So what do you suggest? How does one generally get their hands on such catalysts?"

Cedric shook his head, "You're lucky you have me to answer all these questions for you. If not for me, you'd be buying snake oil from salt merchants."

"Indeed," Vern replied loudly, "What would I do without you," holding back the sarcastic tone to the best of his abilities. As much as he appreciated Cedric answering him, this wasn't his only avenue of information. He now had many channels, be that people or supernatural.

I should also try to divine this. It would spend Axiom's singularity, but it would be more than worth it if it gave him an actual clue to finding the catalysts. After all, he didn't want to risk heading into the territory of a different fundamental without completing all preparations beforehand.

"Anyways, the best way is to trade for them with catalysts of equivalent value."

Vern frowned. "But that's a vicious cycle. How do I get my hands on a valuable catalyst in the first place?"

Cedric sighed, "Kids these days. No patience, I tell ya." Rubbing his forehead, he demanded, "Listen."

Closing the book in hand, he began, "I don't do them because I couldn't care less, but there's a reason we have all these powerful observers in the vigil going on these dangerous missions."

Oh?

"You think all the captains of vigil are patriots who want the best for the city and its people?"

"Heh," he chuckled, "most of them are here for a chance to band together under a legal organization that allows them to coordinate and safely explore perilous regions. Too much backstabbing going on otherwise."

He then pointed his palm in Vern's direction, "Now, before you ask, why band together to explore or whatever? That's because these regions are where one finds catalysts, perceptual artifacts, and of course death."

Vern wanted to grumble. After that long preamble, he wouldn't have needed that last explanation. Obviously, there must be something of value in these places that made Observers want to explore despite the dangers.

"So yeah, either cough up disgusting amounts of money, call favors, or go figure it out yourself. Those are your only options. AND—"

Cedric's voice suddenly turned serious, "Don't you dare try to shade your perception without a catalyst. Not when the one you want sounds so easy to come by. I'll curse you and your three generations if you lose yourself out of desperation. Know that it's fine to stay where you are for the rest of your life if the other option is the death of a blabbering fool."

Vern wanted to say something, but he chose to keep his silence. That wasn't mere advice but some sort of ventilation. He knew Cedric had some tragic history, and he didn't want to be rude about it.

So he simply nodded and waited in silence.

Minutes passed by as he just stood there, pondering his next steps, when a paper plane made its way to him down the chimney.

Cedric grumbled, "Bah, shoo. Take you and your toys out with you. I need to do some reading…" by the end, the old man's expression was back to being wolfish.

Vern shook his head, grabbing the paper plane addressed to him. He exited the room that Cedric seemed to have taken over in the Vigil's castle.

Once out, he unfolded the plane, and it read…

'Lord Osric wants to see you.'