Tim sat on his bed with a weary sigh, careful not to crumple or wrinkle the rather expensive (for him, at least) suit that he had just purchased and put on. It truly was the most money he had spent in a while, perhaps even in his lifetime, but he knew it would likely be worth it. Because tonight was the night. A very special night.

"For how much this country values its heroes, it sure wasn’t difficult to ‘acquire’ an invitation to the hero Kevin’s birthday party,” Tim murmured, turning the simple yet high quality party invitation over in his hand.

“Though, I sure do hope that Sir Nicholas Collinsby the Fourth of his Line won’t notice it missing. Eh, he can probably get in anyways."

Stealing the invitation was easy enough, only requiring Tim to distract the annoying man long enough to pocket the invitation laying on the in basket on his desk. Sadly though, it was a black-tie event, forcing Tim to spend most of his saved wages. He wavered for a bit, wondering if it was worth it, but in end he shelled out the cash. How long would he have to wait for another opportunity, after all? And he'd have to buy it then anyways. Oh well.

He smoothed his suit. He was pretty anxious, but with his preparations complete he did feel ready to sneak into the party for some reconnaissance.

Tim rubbed his mouth in thought (a weird habit for sure.) “It truly is a pity that the hero Kevin is the only one that regularly provides opportunities like this to get close to him.”

He knew, at least from Demu’s book, that Kevin seemed to be the lesser problem among the surviving heroes, with only the issue of him not treating other people as, well, people. So Tim doubted he would find much on him.

“Ah well, even if he's clean if luck is with me, I might be able to find out where the hero Adrian is, or maybe some of the weaknesses of the other heroes. Can’t really do much to them with normal methods. I doubt a blade or drowning would do anything more than anger them.” Tim shivered, remembering the various tales of the heroes he had heard when he was young, and how invincible they seemed. Then, Tim chuckled as he remembered the little ‘trump card’ hidden in his pocket. He had made a quick stop at an alchemist's booth and spent what little of his money remained. All he had to do was to be careful, cautious, and if he got in trouble, the small, fragile glass vial in his pocket could help him out.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The night was cold, yet clear. It was one of those amazing nights that, if one looked up towards the sky, the sheer beauty of all the stars could take the breath away faster than any cold could, with the full sight of nature’s beauty on display. Yet, on this particular night, Tim was walking in single minded purpose towards his target, a lit-up and bustling mansion. As he got closer, a guard stepped in his way, and with a wave of the invitation Tim had required, the guard stepped back and motioned with his arms for Tim to enter the mansion.

Damn! Now this is a party, Tim thought to himself as he walked through the door, barely being able to move forward due to the sheer amount of people present. Luckily, besides the crabby man he accidentally elbowed, it seemed like no one had noticed him, or at least cared enough to ask who he was. He cast his glance left and right in search of a quiet place he could sneak off to, but the party really was in full swing, and there was no such place to be found.

Right, so I need to keep a look out for an office or an administrative room. Something with records, where I can find the locations and maybe weaknesses of the other heroes, along with which ones are reasonable and which ones might try to kill me for fun, Tim thought as he confirmed his self-made itinerary in his head.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Some hours later…

“Aha! Finally, this looks promising,” Tim whispered, taking care not to let any of the passing servants hear his voice while he glanced around an upstairs room at the end of a hall. It quite obviously looked like a study, which he thought was promising indeed. Interestingly enough, it even had designs on the door frame similar to the ones that covered the door leading to the archives in the library.

“I’m starting to think those designs mean that knowledge is being kept in the room,” Tim whistled, happy that things were going without a hitch. He entered the silent study. And, silent it was, as the amount of dust on the tables and chairs in the room indicated that it had not been in use by the hero for quite some time.

“Well then, time to start looking,” Tim hummed to himself, opening the desk drawers in hope of any goodies. “Ohh! Easy find!” Tim exclaimed gleefully as in the first drawer there was a stack of letters, addressed from the city government. Giddy over his luck, Tim stuffed the stack of letters inside an inner pocket of his suit and began rifling through another drawer. Once he had stuffed everything that would fit in his suit, he closed the drawers and approached the door.

Tim rested his hand on the doorknob and mashed his ear against the door, attempting to judge when it would be best for him to sneak out of the room. Jeez, do servants have nothing to do but walk around in this specific hallway?? Tim was unable to decipher a clear moment to make his escape through the constant comings and goings of the servants supplying the partygoers with plenty of food and drink. Then, just as Tim was rejoicing at a lull in the servants’ endless journeys, Tim heard a rhythmic thudding on the carpeted hallway floor, along with a swishing dragging noise. Full of curiosity, Tim put his eye down to the keyhole in the door to see what kind of person could even make such loud footsteps. He saw a man dragging something, which banged against the floor while he dragged it bumping down the stairs.

Huh, that guy looks like the hero Kevin. Wait. Holy shit? Tim thought, stunned at what he saw at the other end of the hall. That’s a fucking hero. That’s Kevin. What is he dragging? Tim wiggled his head back and forth, trying to a better view through the keyhole, and he immediately regretted it. Kevin was indeed dragging something, and that something was the unmoving body of a woman in a maid uniform. The meaty hand of the hero was wrapped around her neck in a vicelike grip. Tim suddenly felt nauseous as the blood drained out of his head. He had caught a glimpse of her half open, blank, unmoving eyes. She was dead.

And her killer was coming right to Tim’s door.