"President Marcel, is it true that Spina di Rosula is relocating?"
"Um, I only just heard about it myself," Marcel replied, momentarily surprised by the question.
"Well, I thought with your close business ties to Spina di Rosula, you would have caught wind of something sooner."
Hearing Marcel's response, the man nodded and sighed. "This is so sudden. The news just broke that Spina di Rosula is expanding elsewhere. I wonder what happened?"
"You haven't heard?" another merchant interjected. "Fontaine has been buzzing with rumors lately. Spina di Rosula is said to be involved, and there's even talk of a new faction emerging."
"Though information on this new faction is scarce," the merchant added. "I haven't managed to dig up any concrete details yet."
"Still, I suspect Spina di Rosula is planning to relocate to the Fleuve Cendre district in Fontaine, which has been designated for the residents of Fleuve Cendre, and develop that area," one of the merchants speculated.
Besides them, several other merchants had gathered. These merchants collaborated with Spina di Rosula, controlling a significant portion of Poisson's resource distribution. Thanks to Spina di Rosula's regulations, their prices remained reasonable.
Even so, they had amassed considerable wealth and maintained amicable relations with the organization. So, when news broke of Spina di Rosula's impending departure from Poisson, they were utterly bewildered and hastily convened to strategize.
"Speaking of which, should we consider following Spina di Rosula to their new location and expanding our businesses there?" one merchant asked.
"I think I'll pass," another replied. "Those people are destitute, even worse off than in Poisson. Moving there would only bring hardship."
"I'll wait and see how things develop," a third merchant said. "If it seems promising, I might consider shifting some of my operations there."
"Honestly, you're all cowards!" a fourth merchant exclaimed. "Don't forget how much Spina di Rosula helped us get where we are today. I trust President Navia's judgment completely. I'm sticking with her through thick and thin..."
Listening to the other merchants' discussions, Marcel grew increasingly agitated.
Why? he wondered. Why couldn't all those Gardemeks I sent eliminate those five? When did Navia become so formidable?!
Could it be something that happened during her time in Fontaine?
But that doesn't make sense. Even considering her potential, her growth rate is far too rapid!
Could it be those two—Melus and Silver?
Or perhaps that Maison Gardiennage officer?
He dismissed the Melusine entirely, not even considering her as a possibility.
No, that's unlikely. They're just ordinary people.
What exactly happened to Navia during her time in Fontaine?
Marcel couldn't make sense of it. His carefully laid ambush, which he'd considered foolproof, had somehow failed, exposing far more than he intended.
I'm not going to this Spina di Rosula gathering, he thought. That would be like walking straight into a trap!
He could almost predict Navia's strategy: she'd summon everyone and interrogate them one by one.
After all, in Poisson, very few could afford to hire Gardemeks as bodyguards, let alone in such numbers.
In truth, judging by their apparent finances, many of those present—including Marcel himself—lacked the means to purchase such a large number of Gardemeks. Yet they had all received invitations from the Spina di Rosula.
Either the Spina di Rosula didn't want to raise suspicions and had invited everyone they could, or they were determined to leave no stone unturned.
As for why Marcel would think this way, wasn't it obvious?
Navia had just recently been attacked by Gardemeks. Now, the Spina di Rosula was using their departure from Poisson as a pretext to invite merchants of all sizes and minor nobles with influence. It was clearly a trap, a modern-day red wedding.
Refusing to attend might draw Navia's attention, but going meant surrendering his life to their whims. Staying put would allow him to leverage his remaining resources to maneuver against the Spina di Rosula.
With this in mind, Marcel resolved to leave immediately.
I have to go—now!
I need to escape Poisson!
An ominous premonition gripped his heart, as if something beyond his control was unfolding.
Feigning an urgent matter, Marcel hastily excused himself and hurried away.
Soon, the time arrived for the Spina di Rosula to address everyone.
A large crowd had gathered. Although Callas, the previous President of the Spina di Rosula, had died under the stigma of murdering a friend, the vast majority of those who had worked with him refused to believe the accusations.
Of course, a few were absent, whether genuinely unaware of the truth, seeking to avoid suspicion, or for other unknown reasons. Most of these absentees were minor nobles with some authority.
At that moment, Melus and Silver arrived, managing the crowd while exchanging greetings and jokes with familiar faces.
The current President of the Spina di Rosula was nowhere to be seen, but no one found this strange. Deep down, most believed that this inexperienced young girl could hardly be up to the task. They naturally assumed that Melus, the elderly advisor who had been close to Callas, was the one in charge.
As for Navia's current whereabouts, almost no one cared.
Of course, some people cared quite a bit, like the terrified young noble currently cowering under the point of her claymore, who had already wet himself in fear.
"No, don't kill me!" he pleaded. "I'll give you anything you want! I'll even be your dog! Just spare my life!"
Hearing his desperate pleas, Navia frowned. She suspected he had nothing to do with her mission, but to be safe, she gestured to the Spina di Rosula members accompanying her.
"Take him away," she ordered.
"Don't kill me!!!" he screamed, but his cries were cut short as someone rushed forward, clamped a hand over his mouth, and bound him.
The group stared at his thoroughly soaked trousers, their faces twisting in disgust. After exchanging glances, an idea struck them.
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
(SpyNote: I unironically did rock paper scissors with a friend once at an old job to clean up a "mess" like this. In front of the culprit too lmao.)
Soon, a new unfortunate soul, his face twisted in a grimace, hoisted the man onto his shoulder and carried him away.
Navia crossed off another name on her list. By now, almost all the names were crossed out, but she still felt that none of them were connected to the case.
Hopefully Lofan is having better luck, she thought.
Navia quickly refocused her thoughts and led the remaining members to the next location.
"Open up! Water meter check!"
With a thunderous boom, the door burst open as a figure kicked it in.
"W-who are you?!" the small noble stammered, his voice trembling with terror as a group of intruders stormed into his home. "Who sent you?! Do you even know who I am?!"
"Of course I know who you are," the leader sneered. "You're my prisoner now."
"As for who I am?" The leader paused dramatically. "I'm the Flame Dragon Knight!"
"Are you mocking me?!" The noble's composure shattered at the absurdity of the name. Even the intruders seemed taken aback by their leader's theatrical introduction.
"Enough talk!" the leader snarled. "If you don't want to die, behave yourself!"
"Hurry up and hand over your valuables... oh, wait, scratch that. Just stand still and don't move. We're coming to get them."
"Hmph! I have Gardemeks all over this place. If you value your lives, get out now!" the noble retorted. "Otherwise, my Gardemeks will show you no mercy!"
Before the words could fully escape his lips, the leader surged forward. With two swift slashes, all three Gardemeks in the room were reduced to scrap metal. The noble stood frozen, dumbfounded.
"What was that you said? I didn't quite catch it."
After a split-second of hesitation, the noble immediately threw his hands up in surrender.
"Easy, bro. Easy."
"Another successful infiltration!" Lofan declared.
The other members of Spina di Rosula were too exhausted to argue. They silently focused on cleaning up.
"Monsieur Henry," Vinani asked, completely shrouded in a black robe to conceal her identity, "what exactly do you do for a living?" The others were similarly disguised, as they couldn't afford to be recognized.
Vinani hadn't needed to participate in this operation—it offered her no benefit. Yet somehow, she had ended up accompanying them anyway.
But after witnessing Lofan's actions tonight, she regretted her decision. It felt as though she had glimpsed his deepest, darkest secret.
The skill with which he had pulled off that robbery seemed far too practiced to be an act.
"How many times do I have to say it?" Lofan replied. "I'm just the Flame Dragon Knight, doing this for fun. I don't know any Maison Gardiennage officer named Henry."
"Do you find this amusing?" Vinani pressed.
To her astonishment, Lofan nodded right in front of her.
"Enough! Monsieur Henry, I strongly suspect you were a notorious highwayman in your past. If you don't explain yourself properly, you're going to be in serious trouble!"
"What, Miss Vinani, are you going to arrest me if I say yes?"
"Of course! I won't let any criminal escape!"
"Sigh, in that case, I should probably start researching the food at the Fortress of Meropide."
"I'm serious! Your performance just now was far too convincing to be an act!"
"Alright, alright!"
Lofan reached out and gently ruffled Vinani's hair before continuing. "Our operation here is finished. Next, we need to rendezvous with Miss Navia."
Vinani paused, then asked, "You don't think the culprit is among those we've captured?"
"If I knew who the culprit was, why would I have arrested so many people?" Lofan waved his hand dismissively, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Isn't this just a chance for you to brush up on your burglar skills?"
"Heh heh heh, Miss Vinani, you're quite the jokester."
"I once aspired to be an actor, so it's only natural I'd know a thing or two about acting."
Seeing Vinani was about to protest, Lofan grabbed her arm and pulled her away. "Come on, let's go meet up with her. It's time to rendezvous."
"Marcel has fled."
That was the news Lofan and Vinani received when they found Navia.
"Tsk, tsk," Lofan mused, after briefly reviewing Marcel's records. "For a merchant to sneak out of Poisson at a time like this... it seems he's not just running away." He paused, then added, "Besides, his courtyard is far too extravagant. Based on my financial assessment, he had no need to spend so much on property."
"Unless he's hiding something, or his true income far exceeds what's publicly known—or perhaps both."
"Have someone investigate thoroughly, especially for any basements. Even if he destroyed most of the evidence before fleeing, he likely overlooked something in his haste."
Navia's eyes widened in astonishment at Lofan's deductions. "Did you really roughly calculate the Confrerie of Cabriere's cash flow over the years?"
Lofan nodded affirmatively. Navia took another deep breath, visibly incredulous. The others present now looked at Lofan with renewed respect.
"I swear, I don't know what your brain is made of," one of them quipped. "Is it just a bunch of mechanical gears?"
The sheer volume of calculations involved was astonishing. Yet Lofan had glanced at the Confrerie of Cabriere's investigation report and made a remarkably accurate estimate.
If he wasn't just making things up, he was truly something beyond human.
Navia found Lofan increasingly unfathomable. He was merely a Maison Gardiennage officer, yet the abilities he displayed were nothing short of extraordinary.
What made it even more perplexing was that he had been virtually unknown until recently.
For now, their priority was capturing Marcel. Everything else could wait.
With that thought, Navia set aside her concerns and ordered a thorough investigation of Marcel's mansion.
Meanwhile, the team gathered to discuss potential escape routes for Melus. If he truly was the perpetrator of the Serial Disappearance Case, letting him slip away tonight would spell complete failure for their operation.
"Isn't it just a matter of guessing where he'll run?" Lofan asked confidently. "Piece of cake! Leave it to me—I'll handle this!"
Vinani paused, slightly taken aback by his certainty. "Monsieur Henry, are you planning to use that?"
"Exactly! That's the one!"
Navia: "???"
Watching the two exchange cryptic remarks, Navia felt a burning curiosity. She couldn't help but ask, "What exactly are you talking about?"
"You know... that thing!"
"Enough talk. Just watch my performance!"
With that, Lofan leaned back in his chair, his eyes losing their usual sparkle.
"M-Monsieur Henry?!" Navia exclaimed, panicking at his sudden change.
Vinani, however, remained calm, having seen this before. She advised Navia to stay composed and recounted the explanations the Maison Gardiennage officers had given at the police station.
Navia listened, her mind buzzing with questions. Is this straight out of some novel?
Yet, remembering Lofan's earlier actions, Navia gradually calmed down. Ultimately, she chose to trust him and quietly waited for him to recover.
Meanwhile, she murmured to herself, "The sleeping Henry...?"