"Eric?" Michael's voice sliced through the air, his hand dropping as the bent key clattered to the ground. He waved it in front of Eric's dazed face, prompting a flinch.
"Do-do that again, no! Wait!" Eric's arms flailed, as if searching for invisible strings.
"Eric," Michael's voice came from behind his ear.
Eric jumped, startled. One moment Michael stood a meter and a half in front of him, the next he vanished, reappearing behind him.
"Still don't believe?" Michael didn't wait for a response. 'Perhaps pulling punches is the wrong way to go about it,' he surmised.
With one hand, he pushed Eric's chest upward, applying Magick to balance him.
"Let me down!" Eric squealed, and Michael obliged, lowering him gently.
"You have superpowers?!" Eric finally seemed convinced as he slumped to the floor, his legs too weak to support him.
Michael offered a hand, though the thrill he expected to feel at showing off his abilities was absent. "For selling my soul to a Deals Maker."
Eric hesitated before taking the hand, accepting it only to reassure himself that Michael was still flesh and blood.
The two stared at each other in silence for a couple of seconds.
"What now?" Eric's voice broke the silence.
"You're not asking me how I made the deal?" Michael countered.
"I want to, honestly. I can tell from your expression that you won't tell me, and... I'm afraid of the temptation," Eric admitted.
Michael understood that, unlike his former self before the Demonic Contract, Eric was in a better position in life. 'If anything, I'm an example for him not to ever stray,' Michael thought.
"What about MK?" Eric pressed on.
"I... don't know," Michael confessed.
"Rika looked for her – made phone calls to their friends, her home, hospitals... Nobody has seen her since last night," Eric informed him.
Troubled, Michael sat on his bed. "It's my fault, the things that happened to her."
"Yeah," Eric didn't hold back. "So, what can you do? Can't you try asking that 'Magick' organization to find her?"
"The Material Magick Bureau? It's sort of their job, I think," Michael mused.
"Great. You're meeting their agent tomorrow. Tell them we need help to find MK. They help victims of these kinds of situations, right? They can't refuse!" Eric suggested eagerly.
Michael looked up at his friend, grappling with an unspoken question. 'Are we still friends...?' He, too, harbored a fear of asking. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" Eric replied, turning to face him.
"Taking everything at face value and just... keep going? I mean, you just learned that stuff like Vampires, Werewolves, and people with supernatural powers exist, and you're just okay with it," Michael clarified.
"The heck I am!" Eric snapped, but quickly composed himself, taking a seat next to Michael. "Frankly? I think it's because I'm tired. Another reason is you... I won't lie and say I don't want superpowers. I'm pretty sure that soon after I get some rest, I'll start searching online for 'real magic forums', 'how to get superpowers for dummies'," he forced a smile. "But seeing you and everything that's transpired in the last twenty-four hours, it shrinks any feeling of jealousy and inflates my pity toward you."
"I see your point," Michael acknowledged, his tone tinged with self-deprecation.
Eric let himself fall back onto the mattress. "Onto the last question, for now, I think. Are you really leaving tomorrow?"
…
10:00, Sunday.
"A trolley? Good. No need to bring a lot to where we're going," Agent Peiss remarked as he waited near a black Nissan Fuga with tinted windows, parked next to the apartment building. Standing beside him was an Asian man in his fifties, clad in a black suit and white gloves. "This is Chiaki Kazuki, our Chauffeur."
"Nice to meet you," Michael greeted the older man.
Chiaki bowed wordlessly, stashed the trolley in the trunk, and opened the passenger door.
"Are we going to make more stops?" Michael inquired, intrigued by the need for a Chauffeur at such an early hour.
"No. I've completed my arrangements," Agent Peiss replied, tapping his silver briefcase.
Michael glanced at the briefcase, recalling how Agent Peiss had placed the signed forms from his parents and brother into it half an hour earlier. The realization suddenly dawned on him...
"I forgot!" He reached for his cellphone, hesitated, then decided to send a text with a sigh.
"What's that?" Agent Peiss inquired, noticing Michael's action.
Michael shook his head. "I forgot to notify my boss that I quit," he admitted, feeling ashamed to do it through a text message without prior notice or a valid excuse. But at this point, it was a done deal. "Oh, is it okay if I bring my phone?"
"It's fine. However, it won't work on the property of the Bureau and its affiliates. Check the text. It won't send until we're out of the car," Agent Peiss explained. "Once you become a real Agent, they'll provide you with a new phone, uniforms tailored to the type of work you do, a bank account, and a list of decent places you can lease for cheap – provided you get approved for external residence."
Michael put his cellphone back in his pocket. Crossing his fingers, he flipped Magick between his thumbs. It was relaxing, still somewhat entertaining, and the best start for learning how to use Magick without knowing how to learn.
Agent Peiss didn't comment on it. He closed his eyes for five seconds, then reopened them when Michael spoke: "Assuming your supervisor gives me the deal I want and I become an Agent of the Material Magick Bureau-"
"You don't have to say the whole name each time. Just 'Bureau' or even 'MMB' is fine," Agent Peiss interjected.
"Assuming I become an Agent," Michael continued. "Can you tell me what I can expect?"
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"Workwise, you'll be a Field Agent, like me, but under 'Risk Management' to put your Grace Period to good use," Agent Peiss explained.
"That means I'll be fighting monsters?" Michael inquired.
"For that, you'll need to know how to fight, and right now you're already pressed for time to quickly progress your Metamorphoses. Although, if you want to be powerful in comparison to others of the same Level, you should include fighting lessons in your schedule. Among what you need for the foundation of Metamorphoses is setting direction. For now, though, don't overthink it. Flaws can still be corrected with little effort for First Level Metamorphoses. It's before the Second Metamorphosis that you need to thoroughly figure out the foreseeable future of your Path."
Aware of the information load he had dropped on Michael when it wasn't even the answer to his question, Agent Peiss smiled reassuringly. "Your Grace Period will take care of most of the fighting coming your way. You'll be guided on how to exploit it before and during missions."
Michael nodded, absorbing the insight, and allowed Agent Peiss to close his eyes again for the remainder of the ride. Despite Agent Peiss's intent to recruit him, Michael felt grateful for the answers he received, especially for questions he didn't even know he needed to ask.
The drive lasted a little over an hour and concluded at a hangar at what Michael recognized as El Bings Airport. As soon as the car doors opened to let them out, Chiaki retrieved Michael's trolley and another small piece of luggage from the trunk and escorted them to the waiting private plane.
"I didn't bring my passport," Michael blurted out, suddenly concerned.
"You don't need to," Agent Peiss replied plainly, gesturing for Michael to follow him toward the private plane.
A female flight attendant warmly welcomed them onboard as Chiaki walked past them to tend to the car.
"Welcome back, Sir," the cheery flight attendant greeted Agent Peiss as he stepped onto the plane. "Welcome to Yastrebov Pogled," she added, acknowledging Michael, who followed a couple of steps behind.
"Michael, this is Magda. Magda, soon Michael will be another client of Yastrebov Pogled. Treat him well," Agent Peiss introduced.
"Of course, Sir," Magda replied with a warm smile.
The interior of the private plane was the most luxurious place Michael had ever been. "Unless the Bureau pays for it, I don't think the salary you mentioned would be enough to cover this..."
"You can afford it with Merit Points," Agent Peiss explained, settling into his seat with utmost comfort. "But it's not worth it, and you're right. The Bureau covers all expenses during missions. Yastrebov Pogled, Nakizawasābisu are the two main groups that provide ground and air transportation for the Bureau's Agents. See those windows? Like on the ride here, you can't see through them," he noted, gesturing towards the tinted windows. "The location of the Bureau's Headquarters, our destination, is an absolute secret. Working in the Branches is a little more relaxing."
"Please pick a seat, Sir," Magda politely requested, and Michael chose one of the six seats adjacent to Agent Peiss.
"The SMS got through..." Michael checked his cellphone, realizing it must have happened when they exited the car in the hangar since, once again, he didn't have signal. "No response, yet, or at all?"
There was nothing from his boss.
"Can't say it was a clean break from my old life. Hopefully, it will be for my old job."
...
"Please don't get up yet, Sir," Magda instructed Michael, even though she sensed the private plane had finally landed after the two-hour flight.
"It's going down?" Michael grasped the reason behind her request for him to stay seated.
The private plane appeared to land on a lift.
"Now it's okay, Sir," she said as the descent came to a halt, unlocking the seatbelt of her seat.
Outside the private plane, darkness enveloped the space of a new hangar.
"Thank you for flying with Yastrebov Pogled. We wish you a perfect day and a safe return," Magda handed Michael a golden company card and his trolley.
"Wait," Agent Peiss instructed him as the lift carried the private plane above ground and sealed off all entry of outside light.
A door of light opened as the blackness enveloped the room.
"Come."
Only when he walked past it could Michael see the other side.
It was a wide, circular corridor with one side of the walls as regular as an office building can be, while the other side was a glass wall, revealing a sizeable, flourishing inner park illuminated by artificial lighting, offering a top view from thirty floors high where he and Agent Peiss stood.
"We're underground, right? Is this like a small city?" Michael was astounded by the unexpected sight.
"Feel free to explore later. You're not an official Agent, so here I can't divulge anything apart from what you see," Agent Peiss replied, guiding Michael through the corridor.
The two passed several offices and mostly suited individuals... 'Agents?' Michael wondered, as they made their way to an elevator.
"Take the next one. We're in a hurry to meet the Director," Agent Peiss informed, halting four people who wanted to enter the first of the six elevators that arrived.
The four hesitated for a moment, seemingly contemplating whether to protest. However, the mention of the Director seemed to weigh on them, and they reluctantly stepped back, maintaining a hesitant silence.
'We were at the top floor, and it's number one out of fifty?! How deep is this place?' Michael wondered silently as Agent Peiss pressed the button for the bottom floor, the 50th.
The elevator doors opened, revealing a spacious waiting room. A desk and a secretary occupied one side of the room, while chairs filled the other, with large flowerpots adorning every corner.
The secretary gave Michael and Agent Peiss a scanning look before swiftly dialing her phone. "They're here. Alright, Sir," she reported into the receiver before hanging up. "You may enter."
Agent Peiss nodded and headed towards the door at the opposite end of the room, facing the elevator.
"Leave your bags here," the secretary instructed, pointing her pen at the trolley and luggage. "What happened, Agent Peiss? Are you nervous?" she teased.
"It was a tedious trip, Vivian. Despite the Divine Dimension's warning, some bounty hunters snooped around the city of our friend here. They only gave up on the bounty when the Grace Period commenced. Then there were the competitors... relentless sobs," Agent Peiss explained wearily.
"Oh..." Vivian reexamined Michael. "At any rate, go in. They've been waiting for ten minutes."
The office was as large as the waiting room and similarly windowless, confirming Michael's suspicion that the entire building lacked natural light. Director Jonathan Strange, as indicated by the nameplate on his desk, sat conversing with a black woman who turned to greet them as they entered.
"Agent Peiss, Michael Mir, it's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to stay, Agent Peiss?" Director Strange inquired.
"If there isn't anything else, Sir, then no," Agent Peiss replied promptly.
"Alright. You can leave. Mr. Mir, please have a seat," Director Strange gestured towards a chair.
Michael complied, and Agent Peiss departed without saying goodbye. It didn't bother Michael, who simply mirrored the same lack of formality. Instead, he focused on the two remaining individuals in the room.
Director Strange was a gray-haired giant of a man with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. The black woman displayed shades of gray in her short hair, but otherwise exuded a middle-aged beauty.
"Hello, Mr. Mir," the black woman offered her hand. "Agent Jully Tamara. Director Jonathan Strange has allowed me the pleasure of announcing that we'll be working together."
Michael raised his hand, but it halted midair. "Does this mean Director Strange agrees to my request?" he inquired, pulling back slightly. "Or did you make the final decision on your own?" He maintained the stance of someone protected by a Grace Period. 'Remember, that's your sole trump card!'
Jully dropped her hand and turned to Director Strange.
"Agent Peiss relayed the content of your conversation. You want the best deal my Bureau has ever offered anyone, right?" Director Strange's commanding voice wasn't fazed by the Grace Period's presence in the room, weighing on Michael even more than David's had. "That's impossible," he continued, withdrawing the invisible force just before Michael's pose broke. "The value of a Grace Period depends on its length and the capabilities of whoever possesses it. Yours is two years long, which is suitable – for a fledgling in the world of Magick. Your capabilities are beneath the First Metamorphosis, which limits your practicality. That being said, you came without a fuss, so I'll reward you with slightly better benefits. You can't have partial participation in the training program, and you don't have time for the full program, so I'll afford you three Advanced Courses that are available only to Agents for free and of your choosing. Moreover, I'll increase your Merit Points rates to 1.75 for every completed mission and approve clearance at the Exchange Center up to one rank higher. That is, at the moment, low Rank 1."
"Everyone started as a low Rank 0. Your Grace Period propelled you through Rank 0, and with the right resolve, you will soon became a Rank 1 Agent with Rank 2 clearance," Agent Tamara shared her support, though to Michael, it seemed she was trying to bolster Director Strange's selling points.
'I can't reject the offer without learning the value of a Grace Period myself, and there's no real reason for them to lie. If they do, I can always leave the Bureau, unless there are loopholes in the Grace Period that allow them to contain me, like the pressure the Director used... even though it hurt me, nothing happened. The same was with David.'
Director Strange and Agent Tamara allowed Michael time to contemplate. A minute later, Michael reached out to Agent Tamara. "Please take care of me."