David

“Greetings, how are you?” He can hear his pulse echoing in his ears as he welcomed in the visitor, grateful he had the foresight to conceal his recent ventures. "Is everything all right?"

“Must there be something wrong for me to check in on you?” The Middle-aged man asked exasperated.

I'm sure the under-eye bags and bloodshot eyes resulted from ample rest in a serene environment. David watched the man plop himself comfortably onto a free chair. “Alright, so nothing I should keep an eye out for. Ok. Noted.”

“David.”

David remained silent, pretending to be occupied restocking the shelves. He acknowledged his childish behavior, but suppressing memories and their accompanying emotions proved challenging whenever the man visited. He understood he should be grateful for someone willing to check on him, even if it stemmed from a sense of duty. He knows and he hates that he knows.

"David... I'm sorry."

David nonchalantly shrugged and chuckled. "What are you sorry for? You did nothing wrong. Thanks for dropping by, Uncle James. Interested in a pastry?"

His godfather gazed at him with sorrowful eyes, eyes filled with pity. David felt his nails digging into his palms, the pain grounding him in reality. Not now. Hold it together, David. His eyes stung from being wide open for an extended period, but he managed to will the wetness away.

"I should have come another day; I'm sorry. You're right. I've been caught up in an important case, and my memory slipped."

"Today's fine. It's not busy anyway. Better today than a hectic day." Change the subject, he silently pleaded. As if hearing him, James shifted the topic.

"Could you pack up two slices of the cake right there?" James pointed to the tiramisu.

"You hate coffee."

"Oh, is that coffee-flavored?" He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "It's hard to tell through the glass."

A small smile briefly crossed David's face. "Do you still want two slices?"

"...yes. Keep one of the slices for yourself."

"Thank you." David didn't bother mentioning that free desserts came with the job. He appreciated the gesture, and James didn't lack money anyway.

"That's an interesting statue you got there." James was curiously examining the peculiar-looking statue with numerous metallic arms. David wasn't certain if he was genuinely curious or just searching for a conversation topic. Uncle James hadn't changed much over the years.

“The shop owner brought it the other day. She said it was supposed to bring protection to the bakery.”

"Hmm, bring protection, you say?" There was obvious disbelief in the man's voice. "I hope there's not an increase in scammers in the city targeting the older population. The rumors of unrest have spread farther than I expected."

"Are they considered rumors if they are true?"

James shifted his gaze toward him. "You believe them?"

"Maybe."

"Good. I've always appreciated your cautiousness. Are you sure you do not want a job at the agency?" James never failed to extend the offer every time he visited.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

For the first time, David hesitated. He couldn't deny the numerous benefits of the job. The organization would undoubtedly welcome another mole. I have to refuse. "I like the bakery. It's in a nice and quiet location. I'm not very good with stress, as you know."

James nodded with understanding. "The street is very well managed with a nice selection of stores. I'm quite surprised, actually, at the smaller flow of people."

David's hands paused for a split second before finishing wrapping up the purchase. "The main plaza isn't far from here, which undoubtedly adds competition."

"True. I should probably return soon, but I'll stop by more often. Take care and don't work too hard."

"You should take some of your own advice. You can't work efficiently without sleep."

James smiled. Right before leaving, he turned around and asked, "By the way, has that bookstore always been there, or was it a recent addition?"

-

James

His smile vanished as he exited the bakery. Mentally berating himself for forgetting the date amidst the chaos of too many tasks and too little time. At least he saved it near the end, or so he hoped. The kid didn't need him to contribute to the emotional and mental baggage he was already carrying.

The rich aroma of coffee emanating from his cake box only intensified his headache. Perhaps a power nap would be wise once he returned to the office. No, there is so much paperwork left untouched on the desk, awaiting his attention. There is no time for rest.

He took comfort in the arrival of Team B earlier today. They were late due to unforeseen obstacles with their previous case, but their participation should be able to produce some results. Hopefully, sooner rather than later.

He also didn’t forget about the mole or traitor. Regardless, they would be exposed soon enough. He had ensured that, hadn't he? While it was impossible to completely thwart spies from different organizations, their actions shouldn't have been so blatantly obvious. His tolerance had its limits. Did they genuinely believe he couldn't retaliate?

But the price he would have to pay... it was a sacrifice worth making. He couldn't afford to display weakness, especially during this unstable period when forces were moving in the shadows. The city could only grasp a semblance of stability when he stood strong. If only he could do more, but he was only human.

Strolling past the bookstore, he cast a fleeting glance at it. Though not a reader himself, he understood the allure of the tales nestled between the pages for many. From his vantage point, he couldn't see the entire store, but it appeared quite vacant except for the shopkeeper. He assumes the young man behind the front desk, nose buried in a novel, is the owner of the small store.

David had mentioned the bookstore wasn't new but had changed ownership. Business must have been challenging. Considering the recent economic struggles, James wasn't too surprised. If only the nobles...

No, relying on them wasn't an option. Each one was more self-centered than the next. The city would crumble before they extended a helping hand. Quickening his pace, James soon reached the end of the street, where the carriage that had brought him awaited.

While boarding, he spotted another carriage a bit farther down that looked oddly familiar. Was that...?

"Let's take a different route back," he instructed.

His driver nodded and steered the carriage in a new direction. Before long, they were passing by the other carriage. It was indeed the emblem he thought it to be—the Golden Rose Family emblem, glinting in the sun. James leaned back with a contemplative expression as his mind raced through possible explanations.

Only the main members of the family were allowed to travel in a carriage adorned with the intricately crafted emblem. Servants and peripheral members were only allowed a small imprint near the front of the carriage for identification.

James couldn’t fathom anything in this area that would draw the attention of a Count family. Were they also sending their own people to search for the artifact? Magic ran strong in their veins, so he wouldn’t be surprised if they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Perhaps they possessed more knowledge about the artifact than they revealed, considering the significance they attached to its recovery. They were also the first to learn about the artifact's discovery before James and his team. What are they concealing? James's eyebrows furrowed, and his lips formed a firm line.

The information they are withholding better not be crucial or so help him. Nobles exhibiting selfish behavior is not new, but if their actions jeopardized the city, even their titles couldn’t save them. Yet, for now, he lacked evidence.

If he intended to confront one of the noble families, James needed substantial proof. The nobles wouldn't permit him to set a precedent of taking down one of their own unless they were left with no other option.

James shook his head to clear his thoughts, realizing he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't want a power struggle with the nobles unless absolutely necessary. Perhaps he was overthinking and becoming paranoid due to lack of sleep.

His eyes grew heavy, and his mind felt as light as a feather, threatening to float away. Five minutes, he promised himself before the world faded to black.