All of a sudden, a new character appeared in front of them, different from the man that Kanon had seen at her previous mission briefing. Was he replacing Maalik?

Her brain had just begun to think when the man opened his mouth- and instantly, Kanon experienced an emotion that she'd rarely felt. And what was that emotion, exactly? Well, it was hate. Plain and simple, Kanon disliked this new man with a passion. He seemed to view his job as just something simple, a nuisance, even. She bit her lip, then greeted him in a slightly colder tone, "I am glad to meet your acquaintance, ...Cyril."

---

PRESENT (0857)
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

"It was either babysitting or half a year of paperwork. And what agent would pick paperwork?" He grinned; his canines unusually sharp, unusually white. "But, seriously, what the shit is this? I heard—"

"I am glad to meet your acquaintance...Cyril."

"—that the Chancellor had personally assigned the two of you," he finished, blatantly and pointedly ignoring the rookie. He didn't even spare her a glance. Instead, he allowed his attention to, briefly, fall onto Wen, who had become preoccupied with his phone—absorbed in a conversation beyond the confines of the white-washed walls. "Shit, let's just ditch this. I mean, what could they possibly debrief us on? The nonexistent dangers of a training assignment?"

While Sidereus was an organization that prided itself on being a benevolent force in the world- there were some members within it that just well- found pride in themselves and that was it. It was apparent that their new team leader- which Alarick regretfully noted would probably be over him- was quite the stalwart- well- ass. That meant a multitude of things in the agent’s mind, but mostly what shined through was the apparent fact that the man was probably powerful. This was only reinforced by the fact that he would only respond to Acaelus. ’Probably on the same level,’ he mused with a disgusted frown.
All of a sudden in some soft and silent plea- he could hear his desk calling to him again. ’Come back Alarick- the field is not what it used to be. They obviously let asses run the show now- not men that care about getting the job done.’ Though- who knew- this Cyril fellow might be an excellent agent if one just duct tape his mouth shut.

Unfortunately Alarick had lost a lot of pride in his life, and to be quite frank he wasn’t at all going to let himself be spoken to like a child in front of the rest of the agents. Rank be damned- he was still a talented agent- and more so he wasn’t that much younger than the male in front of him. “Apologies princess, I just figured it would be conducive to our current mission if we at least have a discussion of what happened last time. There are some rather outrageous rumors floating around- some of even agent Maalik himself. Figured we could at least clear the air before we began again. Though it might help agent if could- ah- please get your head out of your ass. It's not a hat."
That was probably crossing some line.

Kanon resisted the urge to punch Cyril in the face. As composed as she usually was, the way the man spoke, and viewed the world annoyed her to a great extent. He acted like he was the king of the world, able to say anything and do anything. That, or he just didn't give a fuck.

She was actually relieved when Alarick started talking back. Good. The man deserved some rough words to be spoken to him.

Kanon decide that she'd avoid the substitute make as much as possible.

When Cyril came in, Gear barely paid him any mind. He figured someone would have been temporarily filling in for Maalik since the teams were four man and no one on his team was A-ranked. But e en so, he knew he didn't like the man. He was a complete ass and deserved to get knocked to the floor by Acaelus, but that was wishful thinking on Gear's part.

He understood the man's point about the relative ease of training missions in normal circumstances, but theses were not normal circumstances. Four man cells were rare for full missions, let alone training missions. And yet, here they are, sitting waiting for their next mission to come along.

After Alarick hashed out his ass-Hat insult, Gear laughed out a bit. "I'll have to use that one sometime." he said quietly to himself.

---

PRESENT (0859)
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

"Oh?"

Red eyes found the bold, new speaker and, for the first time since his arrival, Aeres actually took the time to see him.

The man was no one he recognized. He wasn't even someone Aeres had heard about, but the scars on his face told a story that made the redhead sneer with disdain.

"I'm sorry," Aeres drawled; his tone decidedly insincere. "You're right. You're right. Let's talk about the missions." But there was nothing in the way he spoke that said he was prepared to follow the other agent's suggestion. There wasn't even a shred of possibility. "So, aside from running your mouth, what else did you do? Oh, that's right, send Maalik to the hospital."

The redhead did nothing to hide his thoughts or his intentions and his words were spoken without gloves or cushions. "The only thing anyone here needs to know for the next mission is how not to be like you: weak and worthless."

"Okay. First of all, that is extremely harsh." Locke stood from his chair and glared at the other redheaded man. He lifted his chin up and crossed his arms, giving off an air that was more confident than what he felt.

"Second of all, if he were weak, would he be in here, right now? If he were worthless, would he be allowed in here?" He didn't allow Cyril a moment to respond. "No. So I suggest that you follow Agent Reindhart's advice and get your head out of your ass."

Shit. Can't take that back, now can I?

Control yourself, control yourself, control yours-

"The only thing anyone here needs to know for the next mission is how not to be like you: weak and worthless."

And that was when Kanon snapped. She didn't even stop to think about the consequences, she merely just- well, she slapped the rude male man right then and there. "Your tone is greatly unappreciated here," she said, her voice hard as steel, eyes glaring, "We're here to get a briefing, not to have some idiot who just arrived yell at us about our past actions. So I'll kindly ask that you do what you came here to do, and talk about the damn missions in a way that doesn't make me want to punch your face in."

As soon as that was out of her system, Kanon's eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. Shit. She'd just insulted someone of higher rank. What the hell was he going to do that to her now?

---

PRESENT (0903)
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

Pain—sharp and acute—blossomed in his left cheek. It stung and, even without a mirror, Aeres knew it was turning red from contact.

"Oh, this one's got bite."

And then, unexpectedly, he started to laugh. With one hand on the table for support and the other holding his stomach, the redhead laughed—loud. His body shook from the gesture and tears gathered at the corner of his eyes.

And then there was silence.

The look in his eyes was dark—dangerous. "What would you do if I wrote you were unstable and unfit for duty?" He paused; his attention momentarily caught by the dull, simmering ache in his cheek. "That would be the end of your career, wouldn't it?

"As for the rest of you: Don't kid yourself. If Maalik didn't have to cover for his team's sorry asses, he wouldn't be where he is right now." He yawned, but didn't bother to cover his mouth. Things like common courtesy or general etiquette weren't part of the redhead's repertoire. "So, go ahead, spin it however you like—whatever lets you sleep at night, but it doesn't change the fact that you were weak."

Alarick realized quickly that he had uncorked a dam that should have been left well enough alone. He knew that he shouldn’t have said anything, but he had had enough of agents- those above and below- assuming they knew the mettle he was formed from by his physical looks. Yes- he was just a B-1 Pulvis user, but that did not mean that formed his limitations in itself. He prided himself on being analytical, thoughtful, and quite the valuable ‘look before you leap’er; they hadn’t placed him on desk duty because they had nowhere else to stick the man. Mind you the last mission was far from a good representation of his abilities considering he hadn’t even started the conflict that had so direly injured Maalik.
But he had survived with minimal injuries, and considering the adversity they faced- that was a triumph.

“Agent Masami,” Alarick frowned. “I would suggest you do as he said.” They were not even on the same team; it was apparent that she reported to Acaleus, but at the lack of her immediate superior’s words- he offered some instead. They didn’t really need to start this meeting with someone being disbarred from duty.
It was then he glanced up the red-headed agent- his eyes a bit hard to read. "Yes Agent Maalik fell in the worst of ways to a force that we were not properly briefed on- that shouldn’t have ever been present in a training mission. And I regret what transpired, and I take it upon myself to not let it happen again. But you keep going on about how ‘weak’ we are, and I’m curious as to why you assume that. You were apparently placed on this mission as a last ditch effort to find someone else that could possibly stand as Agent Maalik’s replacement. And it is so obvious you don’t want to be here- if that is the case- why don’t you just leave?” He paused, “we apparently don’t want you, you view us as incapable of doing our jobs even though we are all ranked agents, and most of all unlike Agent Trusz Muir you do not inspire any confidence or respect. No matter how powerful you are- or how weak you view us- it doesn’t really matter. What matters- I think- is that we have to be a team, and your nature- well I do believe you are incapable of that. So in regards to how you will benefit us in future missions- I hate to say it- beyond your obvious capabilities- your inability to be anything but outspoken and brash make you the weakest link. So if you don’t want any part of this- I’ll lead the team and you can just stand in the back looking pretty.” Alarick sighed, “I refuse to be talked down to by someone who can’t even control their own ego.”

Kanon froze, waiting for what the man would do next.

Then he laughed, and Kanon felt a chill down her spine all over again.

"What would you do if I wrote you were unstable and unfit for duty? That would be the end of your career, wouldn't it?"

Kanin bit her lip. If she screwed this up, she wouldn't be able to help her father. But she simply could not deal with an asshole such as he was. The femal's fist clenched, and she glared right on back to Cyril-that is, until Alarick told her to back down. Kanon's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she nodded, moving back a little. You're so stupid.

At the very moment the unfamiliar man - so Agent Maalik's replaced, huh? -turned up and started to talk, Skylar was already prepared to detach herself from the expected session of self-introductions and greetings. Her slender finger slid on her music player's screen to turn up the volume, letting the electric guitar and beats insulate her. The office talk between the men was really none of her business. The redhead was not even interested in taking her eyes off the album menu - until the other agents started to express anger towards the unwelcomed senior.

Skylar, the one who was supposed to be the most violent-tempered, arched an eyebrow when Kanon snapped. The fellow Sidereus alumni had hardly ever shown this side to others. The blunt one then took off one of her earphones and started to figure out what was going on.

"Mate, I sort of underestimated you before," she commented very quietly with a slight smirk to the teal-haired girl, who had just backed down from the quarrel. Yet her smile only lasted for a second. The new supervisor was such a pain in the ass. She rested her chin on her palm and turned slightly to face Agent Aeres with a bored expression.

"Can't you just get shit done quickly?" she asked the red-haired man after Alarick's long speech.

---

PRESENT (0907)
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

It was rare and unlike the redhead to stay silent when confronted, but, for better or for worse, he didn't say anything during the brunette's long-winded, self-serving speech.

Instead, he waited. He allowed the man his moment—his spotlight. The words were different, but the message wasn't anything new. Aeres had heard it all before: unrestrained ego, importance of teamwork. He even allowed for the other graduate to have a word.

"You think you can do it?" Aeres sneered, his expression wrought with disdain. Agents like this man were, in his opinion, the worst kind of agents. "Because you're alone in that opinion. If the agency thought you were capable of leading, the Captain wouldn't have forced me to be here.

"So, don't think I was the agency's last option. I was their first."

His hand slipped into his pocket, but he was quickly reminded that there was nothing there. Gritting his teeth together in mild, but increasing annoyance, Aeres's eyes flickered to the time: 9:09. 9:10.

This was going nowhere fast.

"You know what? I don't even care. Go ahead and take point on the next mission." Taking a seat at the table, the one closest to where he had been standing, the redhead closed his eyes and leaned back. "Acaelus, wake me up when the handler gets here. Listening to idiocy is kind of boring."

Gear sat back as the other agents attacked the new man. Even though he agreed, telling the man off wasn't going to do anything. He was full of himself and not just because he was a narcissist, he was a good agent. At least on solo missions. He obviously didn't play well with others so this mission was going to be interesting. Gear doubted they would switch up teams, but he was really dreading working with this man.

Gear didn't say anything. He didn't need to. So he popped in his earphones and listened to some Bach. He was the only agent who didn't speak up against Aeres, except for the man's formal classmates and the oblivious Skylar- also listening to her music.

Acaelus had learned ten years prior that trying to reign in Cryril's antics would get him absolutely no where. But within a matter of minutes he was regretting that knowledge and frowning at the fact that Cyril couldn't show at least the slightest inkling of self control or decency.

First it was the young teal-haired Kanon—the quieter one—slapping him across the edge of his face; and then it was the quick words of Agent Alarick Reindhart following the tense silence that hung between every individual in the room. The energy in the room plummeted considerably—even though it hadn't been at it's highest to begin with—the moment Aeres began to pull rank almost as quickly as he had began to spit out insults and voicing his clear opinion on the entire mentoring business.

Acaelus flushed as the minutes ticked on and he hadn't stepped in and spoken in defence for Kanon or Alarick against Aeres soon enough. Although he had never paid much heed to what others thought of him, he did consider the thought that it was his job to keep the morale in the room as high as possible for the upcoming missions to go by as easily as they could.
So when Cyril spoke up and moved past him to plop gracefully into an empty seat Acaelus stepped froward and shook his head, “Aeres, you may be a S-1 rank Agent, but you are completely out of line,” Acaelus started, looking down at his friend, “And with your behaviour, you're lucky it was Kanon and not somebody a slight bit more powerful. A slap does not justify being written up.” Acaelus raised an eyebrow and his expression darkened, “When did you become even more of a spoiled child, kicking and screaming when you're not given what you want and when you want it? Get over yourself. We all realize how much you long to be anywhere but here. I know you're not completely witless. So, how about we get this over as smoothly as possible. Without anyone having grounds to slap you across the face again.
“Kanon,” Acaelus turned to the girl and leveled her with an apologetic expression, “I apologize for Agent Aeres. I assure you, there will be no repercussions for what you have done,” Acaelus grunted a laugh to himself, “I believe, most would sooner give you a medal.
“Alarick, I also apologize for what Aeres has said,” Acaelus addressed the brunette, “He does not have the right to voice his opinion in this matter. I haven't seen you in the field yet but I am confident that you are more than capable of directing this group far better than Aeres ever could be,” sending a glance in Cyril's direction he breathed in a sigh and shook his head, “If only because of the way you have held composure in this situation.”

Locke, at the notice at Agent Masami had stolen the show, sat down and kept his gaze down, his hands folded neatly in his lap. After hearing the threats, as well the many retorts, the quiet red haired man was glad that he had decided not to interject any further. The grumbles and arguments from each side were getting more and more civilized as they went on, the final voice being Mr.I'm-an-S1,-But-I-Am-Normal-Agent-Too, who spoke with a smoothness that seemed to almost glaze the situation over.

Eh. This guy knows what he is doing. Locke sighed and unfolded his hands to hang by his sides and he leaned all the way over, his forehead touching his legs. He stayed that way, stretching momentarily before sitting back up and hitting his head against the back of the chair, his eyes closed.

"Can I go home now?" he mumbled under his breath.

---

PRESENT (0912)
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

The feelings in the room chilled—slowing to a point of certain inertness, of definite stillness.

"Are you done yet?" Aeres asked, his voice humorless—utterly bereft of familiarity and kin. His eyes had grown cold and his body language spoke volumes of the changes, the difference of now and before. "Or do you need another minute to make sure that everyone in this room loves and worships you?"

And even though he was sitting, there was nothing small or lacking in his presence. There was nothing to say that he was persuaded—won over—by the other man's speech. If anything, there was a certain kind of fire that seemed to have sparked in his eyes—the kind of fire that destroys, eats and ravages. It was the kind of fire that had no master, no conquerers.

Alarick sighed. He wondered why he tried sometimes. It was plausible that his loyalty was still intact and thriving within in his wilted chest. Yet he found out again and again that others didn’t hold that burden on their back as he did, but instead took their station as some crown they could balance atop their head. As Alarick’s faith waned at least it did within service of Sidereus- and not within one’s own vapid world.
Slowly he sat down, and leaned back in his chair. ‘I didn’t do anything but make a fool of myself,’ he thought and those pensive thrums made themselves evident across his face. He was never a man to have a short temper, and he never flexed it thusly. Not to say Alarick was a man to brood, but it suited him more than doling out tongue lashings- and now he remembered why: it never did any good. People never changed.

Acaelus seemed to make peace with everyone, and honestly Alarick thought he was going too easy on the herd. Agent Masami should have immediately seen disciplinary action, and Locke and Alarick should have been scolded up one end and down another because of their outbursts. It was fair to say whatever might have been said to Agent Aeres would have been a waste, but it should have been handed out more evenly. And for once- and probably only once- Alarick agreed with Agent Aeres about how their great and fearless S-1 leader was treating them much akin to a politician trying to win over votes.

With that he glanced over to Locke and smiled. “Thanks for coming to my rescue,” he breathed into the other’s ear with sweet tone. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

Words and a warm breath hit Locke's ear, making the red headed man have to resist the urge to turn around and kiss Alarick. It was a stupid notion, but it was the first idea that came to mind. While most of the first ideas in his head were usually done, and not thought through, this one was stopped from happening. Instead, Locke opened one eye and a smirk danced over his lips.

"Well, being a knight in armor has its perks, you know." he muttered in response, a laugh leaking into his voice.

Locke still had that feeling of slight terror. He knew that he really wasn't ignored when he had stood up moments ago, and that this would be reported. Following the reporting, he was going to be brought into some superior's office and fussed at, reminded about what he had done was ridiculous and that it would go on his permanent record. He didn't have much a record, but because of this incident it had grown some, making the thought a bit worrisome.

---

PRESENT [0915]
@ SA HQ ; CONFERENCE ROOM A

When he walked in, the room was charged with tension, saturated with something heavy and uncomfortable. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on ends and his left arm itch.

'Isn't it too early for everyone to be so energetic?' The brunette wondered privately as he announced his presence. "Good morning, agents"—he offered the group a curt nod of acknowledgement—"I see that everyone has gotten, ah, acquainted with each other."

There was a pointed note of something more to his words.

Exhaling deeply, Dante walked to the head of the table. He didn't take a seat, but stayed standing—shoulders squared, chin leveled. "I'm Agent Moretti and I'll be your handler for both missions. Please direct any and all inquiries concerning the assignments to me."

As he spoke, the table's obsidian surface brightened with a beautiful electronic blue; the glow reflecting off the faces of the gathered agents with eerie shades of gray and sky-tinted white. There was a subtle chime of confirmation as Dante swiped his card and, like magic, the surface changed to reveal his records: name (Dante, Moretti), rank (B-3), degree (Pulvius), and relevant contact information. "This will be sent to your devices after the meeting"—he paused, glanced over at the graduates and, as an afterthought, added—"So there's no need to copy any of this down."

Without wasting any time, the brunette summoned a 3-D rendering of the world, the globe projected above the table's surface. It spun on an invisible axis, turning steadily in a clockwise direction. And on this globe there were two locations marked by a blinking red dot: Kyoto, Japan and Beijing, China.

READ THIS

TEAM ASSIGNED: AGENT TRUSZ MUIR

---

"The situation is spiraling out of hand and, if this keeps up, it'll be unsafe for all women. The police are, as usual, ineffectual at providing aid."— [MADAM FUJI NO MIYA]

OBJECTIVE: Please locate and apprehend the culprit.

LOCATION: KYOTO, JAPAN. DISTRICT-PRIME
WEATHER: LIGHT BREEZE / SUNNY
TEMPERATURE: 18C / 65F

DATE / TIME: 7 APRIL 5614 / 0900

SETTING: Kyoto District-Prime is a beautiful slice of traditional architecture, artistically arranged greenery, and elegant kimonos. The touch of culture is rich and powerful, strong and proud. While the rest of the world fell to the temptation of ever-better, ever-convenient technology, Kyoto-Prime has remained a hallmark of preservation.

INTELLIGENCE: According to Madam Fuji No Miya, thirteen employees have disappeared and, recently, one of them has turned up dead in an alleyway. The girl was badly beaten and bruised. She was stabbed forty-six times.

Further intelligence reveals that there have been several similar incidences (a total of seventeen). The examiner's report reveals that all of the victims were held for a period of time (a minimum of one week, but no more than two weeks) and starved. Preliminary reports suggest that the targets are women between the ages of sixteen to twenty and employed at entertainment facilities.

THREAT LEVEL: RANK C-1

MISC DETAILS: Please meet with Madam Fuji No Miya for further details!

TEAM ASSIGNED: AGENT AERES

---

"As the Minister, it is my job to protect the citizens. Therefore, in such times, if I don't do everything I can to help my people then why do I even stay in office?"— [MINISTER HUANG]

OBJECTIVE: Locate and apprehend the culprits responsible!

LOCATION: BEIJING, CHINA; DISTRICT-BASE 5
WEATHER: CLOUDY / SUNLESS
TEMPERATURE: 10C / 50F

DATE / TIME: 7 APRIL 5614 / 0900

SETTING: When it comes to Beijing District-Base (DB) 5, there isn't much to be said. It is the poorest of the districts. The air is yellow and a thick, suffocating smog hangs overhead. The sun is rare and the rain is acidic. The roads are cracked, the rails are dirty and old, and the stores that line the main streets are packed in like sardines and depilated. It is a sad and depressing sight, but it is the norm for the citizens.

For the citizens there are cheap food stalls—$3 bowl of beef noodles. There are cinema buildings (all airing last month's picks). And there are job opportunities—something that not every BD can claim.

INTELLIGENCE: Ordinary citizens have been targeted in heinous crimes. The bodies are always found in unused warehouses, dark alleyways, or generally untraveled roads. The bodies are brutalized and all of the bones are disjointed—pulled apart from each other. Additionally, each body has been marked with an insignia (a rose in full bloom), but its meaning is unclear.

Currently, there have been a total of thirteen victims, spanning over one year.

Further intelligence reveals that the victimology is similar to several gang related deaths. Intelligence suspects that these deaths are related, which would bring the body count to a grant total of 33 over five years.

THREAT LEVEL: RANK C-1

MISC DETAILS: Please meet with the Minister when arriving.

---

PRESENT (0900)
@ HANA NO UCHI ; CEREMONY ROOM HARU

There were no chairs, no pillows—nothing to indicate where to sit or how to sit. And their host—a beautiful woman dressed in a kimono that was easily twice her size, but no less beautiful—sensing the unspoken confusion, politely said, "You may sit or kneel on the floor. You do not have to worry about formalities."

With a smile fixed to her features, the brunette knelt beside a large, clay bowl and several other mismatched objects. The astute—or the historically well-versed—would have known it was a tea set, but that information is neither here nor there.

"I am honored that you have agreed to help." She was tall—much taller than in the pictures. In fact, she was only a few inches shorter than Acaelus. "I am sure that you have already been informed of the unique situation." She paused as she looked at the agents; her lips pursing slightly at some unshared observation. But as quickly as the expression appeared, it was filtered away. Just as the agents were the expert of their craft, she was a well-practiced, well-learned entertainer. "But, just as a reminder, we do not involve the police in this matter.

"I ask that you employ a high level of discretion."

---

PRESENT (0900)
@ BD-5 CITY HALL ; MINISTER'S OFFICE

Unlike the city outside, which was gray and old, the minister's office was warm and well-cared for.

"The thing is, I'm trying to avoid a panic in the city," Ming-Zhong started awkwardly; his voice gruff and his words somewhat accented. "This city doesn't need another thing to be scared of."

He was a big man—easily six-feet-four—and had scars running from his forehead to his neck. His hair was shaved at the sides, but ran long on top, pulled back by a beaten and worn-looking leather strap. "I know what you must be thinking: I'm probably a thug. I mean, I'm not even wearing a suit!" He cracked a smile, but it only made him look more threatening as it scrunched up his scars and narrowed his eyes.

"But I assure you, I am this city's minister and, as its minister, I'm asking that you help to find the culprit as soon as you can. The police will help you in any way it can and my door is always open to you guys."

Once again they were entrapped in another mission that had no viably gorgeous scenery to behold. This time it may have been even worse due to the sheer amount of people that clogged the artery-like streets of this district. The sticky-sweet smog of the poor district felt as if it formed a thick film over Alarick’s uniform, and he had a nauseating feeling that it would cling to him during this entire mission. Still- he wasn’t here to be attractive or nicely scented, but instead to find the culprit behind these murders. That did mean that Mister Grey wouldn’t have anything to do with him for about a week upon his return, but then again- when had cats been the overly affectionate type?

The Minister’s office was not what he expected, but then again neither was Minister Huang. Alarick figured reining in control over a district such as this involved some intimidation mixed in with exact politics, but he felt as if the sheer bulk of the man was a bit over the top. At least he seemed bitterly honest, and in a case like this having a man they could trust would be most invaluable.
His eyes peeled over to Agent Aeres, and he found himself near about wishing that he had kept his mouth shut during their meeting. Alarick had a feeling that he would be eating his ‘I should lead’ words very soon and without the added flavor of ketchup to be able to choke them down with ease.

“Thank you Minister Huang for your full cooperation on this matter, and we shall try to use the resources you provide us sparingly and to the point. I do believe our first order of business is maybe a trip down to the city morgue to investigate these bodies,” or at least that is what had been agreed upon before they arrived in this wonderful part of Beijing. “So who should we speak to in police force to see to that?” It was then Alarick offered a sweet smile to the man in his usual fashion. He had to say one thing- Minister Huang may have been the only other human on this planet that bore more scars than he did. And while Alarick tried to make them more subtle with his charm and fashionable aestheticism- Minister Huang wore them with pride. Maybe the Sidereus agent could take a lesson from that- they were a permanent facet of his form now.

Locke found himself about the same height as the woman who had walked in and knelt. He himself then sat down on the ground, the uniform's pants riding up out of his boot. He pulled his leg forward some to pull down on it and then shove it back into the boot with a sight pout on his lips. Not only that, but his entire uniform feeling absolutely constricting. He yearned to pull off his jacket, but to do so in front of such a highly ranked woman would be considered inappropriate- or would it? Locke questioned this, but in the end, he decided not to take anything off.

"Working in our uniforms would not be preferred, correct? Would you rather us blend in?" he asked, finding discression to be something that he may enjoy. Anthing had to be more comfortable than the uniform he was wearing.

---

PRESENT (0903)
@ HANA NO UCHI ; CEREMONY ROOM HARU

She watched with a guarded expression; her thoughts shielded from all unwanted attention. Even though she had been the one to invite their help, her attitude was cold and uninviting. She didn't trust them.

"I want the matter to be handled quickly and quietly," she answered, her words a careful composition of thought and limits. "The staff—excluding those who went to greet you—is not aware of your involvement and I would like to keep it that way." Her eyes flickered to the side, catching the silent gaze of her attendant, who had been keeping watch by the sliding doors.

"Takashi"—the man nodded in acknowledgment, his rigid stance relaxing slightly at his name—"will you go fetch the preparation boxes? Makoto said he had arranged for them in the Sun Room."

With the man gone, the brunette's attention was, once again, seated on the agents. "You will pose as newly hired staff. But"—again, her lips pursed with dissatisfaction—"I was misinformed about the team composition. I only have one male uniform."

---

PRESENT (0907)
@ BD-5 CITY HALL ; MINISTER'S OFFICE

The meeting was a drag, but for one reason or another, the redhead held his tongue. He even made an effort to appear mildly emphatic to the minister's laundry-list of problems.

It was strange seeing the redhead concede the floor. It was, however, stranger still when he gave it to Alarick Reindhart. And he did so without a fight.

"So, who should we speak to in the police force to see to that?"

The minister nodded at the question; his expression a mixture of agreement and understanding. "Chief Zhang. He's already expecting you." He paused. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate with his words, but the struggle was only momentary. "I hope that's alright. I have already informed the police of your involvement, Agent—?"

"Agent Reindhart," Aeres supplied quickly, unusually helpful. "I apologize for not having done introductions earlier." Without missing a beat, the redhead started with the names: Agent Aeres, Agent Gear, Agent Quiliam. "And Agent Reindhart is the lead of operations for this case."

There was nothing malicious in the words he said, but there was no lack of ill-will in the subtext. Aeres, evidently, had not forgotten about the previous meeting.

"Ah, well, nice to meet you Agent Reindhart." Without understanding the redhead's full intentions, the minister nodded to the brunette. "Would you like a car to take you to the station? I can phone for one."

Kanon had followed after Locke in a quiet manner, observing everything around her. Their employer, a Madam Fuji no Miya, stood in the center of the room, her features akin to that of a porcelain doll. Kanon knelt on the ground as she had been instructed, and listened to the requirements of Madam Fuji.

An obvious problem emerged as the conversation between Locke and the other went on- apparently, there was only one uniform that was of the male origin. "Ah," the female spoke, "Then two males will be dressing as females tonight?" The teal haired woman thought for a moment, "I propose that Wen and Locke should crossdress; they seem able to pass as women."

Staying at the back and leaning against the wall, Skylar hoped the conversation would end soon. She was not very convinced that the scarred Chinese man was a minister. No matter how she looked at it, he seemed more like a gang leader. For a girl who had never been to China, stereotyping based on the first impression was invitable. The redhead narrowed her eyes a bit and then looked away.

When Agent Aeres introduced her briefly to the Minister, the redhead nodded at the large man as a greeting. It was strange that the red-haired man said Agent Reindhart was the one in charge. Annoyed by the awkward tension between Cyril Aeres and Alarick Reindhart, she rolled her eyes.