The sun was already up when Ansel woke up. The house was empty. His uncle was already gone. He saw a note from Jarod.

You’re sleeping in today. You must be tired. I’m going to play Pickleball with some friends. See you later.

Ansel smiled when he read the note. He was the one who introduced Jarod to the sport. He doesn’t play much himself anymore. But during his time at the university, he spent hours playing it. He was very good at it too. His growling stomach sent him to the kitchen where he cooked a couple of eggs he ate with bread. He also drank some tea.

It was almost noon. Ansel wanted to communicate his decision to the Knights as quickly as possible. He showered and got dressed in his only decent suit and left the house. He had no idea where the Stag Nite Pub was, so he decided to stop a taxi in the street.

“Good afternoon, sir. Where are you going?”

“Stag Nite Pub. Do you know where it is.”

“I do. It’s about 4 kilometers away. The base fare is 3 copper coins. Then there is an additional charge of 1 copper coin per kilometer. The trip will cost you 7 copper coins.”

Ansel thought about asking for directions to walk there. But his desire to take care of business fast made him reconsider. After all, he would start earning income again. He nodded to the driver, opened the door, and sat in the backseat.

The driver tried to make conversation during the fifteen minutes trip, but Ansel wasn’t interested. He paid the man his fare with a silver coin and got 3 copper coins back in change. Ansel was surprised to see the pub was crowded this early in the day. Many customers were already drunk and were talking nonsense. A couple of fights had already broken out.

Ansel examined attentively the place, looking for Boone. He found her at the counter. She was sitting by herself with a glass of ale before her. He walked to her and was about to tap her shoulder when his wrist was grabbed forcefully. Before he could realize what was going on, his cheeks were pressed hard on the table.

“What the hell, Boone! It’s me. Ansel Beausejour.” He said with difficulty.

“Ansel, do you have a death wish? Never approach me from behind like that again.”

“Got it. Can you let me go now?”

The lady released him and sat back down. The whole scene did not seem to affect the customers who barely gave it a second look. Ansel looked at the bar stool next to her.

“Can I sit here or would I be risking my life by doing so?”

“Sit down.” She ordered.

The man made no comment and sat.

“I came here to let you know of my decision.”

“I know. You’re accepting Langston’s offer.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“It’s the best option you have. Even an idiot would take the offer; unless there are some unknown reasons that make you unwilling to work for us. Also, you don’t seem like the type to come all the way to turn us down. You care too much about your wallet for that.”

Ansel gave her an uncomfortable smile.

“You’re correct. I am here to tell you that I want to work with you guys as a consultant.”

Boone nodded.

“What’s now?” He asked.

“I need to finish my drink first. You can either order something or wait.”

“Then what?”

“Then I will take you to our base of operations.”

“Ok. I will wait.”

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

She had consumed more than half of the tall glass. Ansel believed she would be done soon. But he was mistaken. She ordered two more drinks before they left. Ansel wanted to complain, but her gaze convinced him otherwise.

They left the pub an hour later and walked to their destination. It was a short walk, not even 10 minutes. They stopped in front of a building. Ansel looked at the sign.

“Newspaper Archives.” He read.

“That’s your base of operations?” He asked.

“Well, we also have a small office at the police station, but this is where we mainly operate at.” Boone replied, entering the building.

Ansel followed her. He was surprised to see it was actually what the sign said. The room was filled with newspapers placed on shelves. An old man was sitting at the only desk in the room. He looked sleepy.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Boone.”

“Hi, old man. Ansel, this is one of our employees. We call him old man. He helps us run the archive.”

“Not bad for a cover. Nice to meet your acquaintance, old man.”

“It’s not totally a cover Mr. Ansel. This is a legit newspaper's archives.”

“And you get customers?”

“It’s rare, but it happens.” The old man answered.

“Am I going to work here?” Ansel asked.

“Who knows. You may need to help out sometimes.”

“Do not worry, Mr. Ansel. I believe the leader has something else in mind for you.”

“The leader?”

“Langston.” Boone answered.

“He is waiting for your arrival.” The old man said.

“Is he in the Red Zone?” Boone asked.

“Indeed.”

“The Red Zone? What is that?”

“Follow me,” Boone said walking past him.

Ansel caught up to her as they made their way to the back of the room. She removed three newspapers from a shelf, revealing a wall switch lever. She pulled the lever down and activated a mechanism. There was a muffled noise and the shelves separated, revealing a metal door.

She opened the door. It was a cage elevator. She gestured Ansel to join her.

“We’re going down.” She said and operated the elevator.

The descent lasted a few seconds before they stopped. Boone opened the door and they both exited. They walked in a lighted corridor. Ansel noticed the emblem of the Phantasmal Guild on the wall, three crescent moons intertwining.

“Pay attention,” Boone said as she stopped.

Ansel also stopped.

“If you make a left here, it’ll take you to the storage room, practice room, and break room. Make a right, and you will reach the Red Zone.”

“What’s the Red Zone?”

“I don’t have time to answer that. Langston is waiting for you. This is where we part ways.”

Ansel didn’t have a good feeling about the Red Zone they mentioned. He wasn’t very excited to head there as he knew nothing about it. However, he found some confort in believing they wouldn’t send him somewhere dangerous. So he took the path on his right. The corridor resembled the one from before.

Ansel found a red french door blocking his path. He clenched his fists and knocked on it. To his surprise, his knocks created ripples on the door.

“Mr. Beausejour?” The voice of Langston said from the other side.

“Yes.”

“Please enter.”

“How?”

“Boone didn’t give you instructions?”

“No,”

“Place both of your hands on the door and slide them away from each other.”

Ansel did as told and the door opened. He entered a room with five sofas in it and a gueridon table at the center. Langston was sitting on one of the sofas. He gestured for Ansel to seat on his right.

“So you’ve accepted the job offer.”

“Yes.”

“I’m pleased you’ve come to that decision,” Langston said before handing him a document.

“I need your signature.”

Ansel read the document. It was straightforward. It explained the terms of the employment, a ten-year agreement, 5 silver coins a week, the confidential nature of their work, the punishment for breaking it…

“I could go to prison or even be executed.” Ansel said.

“Only if you leak information.”

“Everything looks good.”

Langston handed him a pen. Ansel took it and sign below his name. The leader took back the document.

“We are now colleagues, Beausejour.”

“You can call me Ansel.”

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Yes, there is one that’s been on my mind. You told me becoming a Genomer has risks. What are they?”

Langston took a deep breath.

“Let’s start from the beginning.”