“So,” Carter sighed. He seemed irritated the moment he arrived in Steepcreek. But, that was to be expected, considering their current working conditions. “We are among the most powerful men in the country. We can order men to be hunted and killed with little to no question of the command. Yet here we are, doing important work in a hotel room.”

“You have a desk,” Gordon said. He found the circumstances amusing, only because it irked Carter to his core. “And this bed works as a bench for us to sit on. All in all, it’s not that bad.”

Jaxton grinned, sitting next to Gordon at the head of the bed near the frame. Between them near the window, Carter read the reports, sitting on a stiff wooden chair that might as well have been from a dining room.

“We couldn’t even get the hotel conference room? Really?” Carter looked behind himself, annoyed, directing all of his frustration at Gordon. His heavy glasses drooped down over his nose, half of his eyes looked above the top of his frames. Funnily enough, Carter wasn’t even sight-impaired to begin with, but his glasses were critical to his work in the field. Much like Ranun with his boots, you could always find Carter wearing his Soulsmithed glasses.

The room was as bland and boring as most cheap hotels often were. Well, hotel rooms weren’t cheap, only their feeling. It cost more gold coins to stay a season in one of these rooms than it would be to rent a multiple-bedroom house. The room's scheme was brown with floral designs on both the blankets and the curtains covering the windows behind the desk; dull, dead like the autumn leaves drifting outside.

“You’d be recognized,” Gordon explained. Whether Carter knew it or not, they were easy to tell apart from everybody else in society. Carter might be more underground in contrast to the other agent generals, but his glasses made him easily recognizable.

“Oh, and you can just stroll around wearing your mega-sized armor and not be recognized?”

Jaxton laughed from Gordon’s right. Gordon gave him a stern look, silencing him in a second. The boy’s stomach still pumped as he kept it inside, cackling to himself.

Gordon wore his armor. Heavy it was, but it became easy to bear after many years wearing it. It was early in the morning, but he was on duty today. He had his code to follow, so until he finished work, the armor stayed on. “It’s hardly the same. We held the induction of Colors here while Central was still under repairs. They should expect Colors to be in the city for the time being. But an agent-general? From the detective agency? They’ll flee at the sight of you. Or at least, your glasses.”

Carter sighed, and Gordon took that as him conceding the argument. He continued to scan the reports, reordering the pile and boxing them together. “How long must we endure these conditions?”

“A little while longer,” Gordon said. “Until we have our lead and can begin reeling Corolla in.”

“We already have our lead, don’t we?” Carter asked. “The reports of a man distributing free samples of Gem Candy? He’s likely tied to Corolla. We can just get to him and then force him to bring us to Corolla.”

“Is it that simple?” Gordon frowned.

“It can be,” Carter said. “If you want an easy solution, bringing this dealer in is the quickest route we have.”

“What if he doesn’t talk, and Corolla wonders why one of his dealers has gone missing?”

“He slips out of the city,” Carter said flatly.

“Exactly. Do we have anything more… sure to work?”

“No,” Carter said. “We either wait until something else comes up. By that time, he may already be out of the city. Or we can take the lead we have and catch him while we can.”

Gordon grunted. He never liked working with chance. The odds always felt against him every step of the way. No reason they should change now.

Jaxton stiffened in his seat. “Excuse me, uh, Carter. There hasn’t been any sightings of an orange suit and masked man, what Corolla is infamous for. So—”

“We believe he’s in the city regardless,” Carter said, interrupting the lad.

“No!” Jaxton raised his voice. He flushed. “Pardon, but there are other ways of identifying him. A while ago, I found some older records of the Green Chefs—formally the Green Dragons. They said Corolla, the son of Alphonse, was a halfbreed. Maybe we should narrow our search for that description rather than looking for his suit.”

Carter nodded. “Yes, that discovery is very helpful to us. But Soucrest has a handful of them. And we can’t exactly go around asking for ears; the news would spread as easily as if we put up wanted posters for Corolla himself. The whole objective of our current mission is to catch Corolla off guard.”

He has already caught us off guard, Gordon thought. He massacred our people, then sold us their souls as his product.

Carter turned the chair around. Done with the papers, he confronted the two of them on the bed, facing them. “You’re right, Gordon. I’m easily recognizable. So are you. Tell me, can you take off your armor, even if your job demands you to?”

“No,” Gordon said, “Our armor is like an extension of our skin. Taking it off on duty is shameful, against our beliefs. So long as I’m working, I’m bound to wear it, regardless of what is needed.”

“I should have brought some of my agents…” Carter shook his head. “Actually, none of them would work well either. They are all too… dignified with how they speak. They couldn’t handle going undercover. They wouldn’t fit the part.”

“Undercover?” Gordon asked.

“Well, we can’t just arrest the man in question,” Carter said. “Not while we can confirm for ourselves if the reports are true or not. You wanted a more sure plan, right? We can’t take this report to be certain, so we should investigate whether or not the information we have is true. If it turns true, we have our lead.”

Gordon nodded. The safety and security of the mission were their two highest priorities.

Carter then moved his eyes to Jaxton on the bed. “But you may do, young man.”

“Me?” Jaxton asked, abashed.

“On the carriage ride over, Gordon spoke a lot about you,” Carter said, “And I think you’ll do fine undercover.” It was true; they did speak a bit. Gordon had his concerns about Jaxton entering the agencies, and he asked Carter some questions about what it was like working in one. He had said it varied by the agencies. While the agents in Carter’s group typically studied, Symond’s team physically trained for missions. It all depended on the agency’s purpose and goals.

Only the Gem God knew what Kinler’s purpose of leading a team was. They said he would lead a “balanced” agency, composed of diverse skill sets that could fit all around, assisting the others when needed. Ranun forged the teams himself, so Gordon figured on the balance spectrum, he put Jaxton on the side opposite of physical.

“I’m not sure about this,” Jaxton said. He looked to Gordon for guidance. “Surely you don’t agree to this.”

“Actually,” Gordon said, “you would be a perfect fit for this. You are under their target demographic, and your physique is on par with an average citizen. Carter and I are too old and too strong to fit their normal consumer.”

Carter smiled slightly at the words too strong. Though Carter was the second weakest of the generals after Jon, he had some training with the sword. Many years ago, Carter was graded a C for his swordsmanship, a grade expected of Colors to reach before they turned seventeen.

Jaxton grunted, falling back on the bed. “Alright,” he finally said, staring up at the ceiling light above.

Carter nodded. “It’s settled then. Thank you Jaxton, I’ll prepare you in a little bit. Now, if you will excuse us, I have some private matters to discuss with General Fall.”

Jaxton frowned. He sat up, stretching his arms before he yawned. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He raised, circling the bed moving through the hotel door, leaving Gordon and Carter alone.

“Yes?” Gordon asked.

“He sure looks up to you, doesn’t he?” Carter noted, smiling. “You’ve raised him well. And if I remember correctly, he grew up on the streets, no formal education whatsoever?”

“None other than books,” Gordon said. “Makes me think our education system is unnecessary with how bright he became without one.”

“But he could be brighter,” Carter said, “if he had an education like us. Fate can be cruel, don’t you agree? He has the capabilities of being a genius, but he has long since passed the vital youthful age to achieve such a title as a genius. But yes, he has the same potential as any of my agents. I think he’ll do fine in Kinler’s team.”

“And this mission of ours will be good practice for him, right?”

Carter nodded. But what did going undercover prove? That he could spy? No, perhaps it was just the experience, getting his hand dirty however his country needed him to.

Objectively, this would be good for him. All of Jaxton’s life, he had served Gordon’s interests. When Gordon sought to find better unit formations, Jaxton would study up, drawing up some of his own. And they were exceptionally proficient and intuitive, even though the boy had never been to battle before. How did he understand war so well?

The odd thing about Jaxton was that if Gordon handed him something to read or study without any reason or motive, he would struggle to get it done. But when Gordon worked with something such as logistics, Jaxton came up with a solution that solved the issue. He was more crafty than scholarly. He accomplished anything he put his mind to. Well, except swinging a sword.

How could a boy calculate the wages of several thousand men but not learn how to hold a sword with a steady grip? Well, at least his hands were a little better than average. He seemed to enjoy hand-to-hand combat more than swordplay. But above all, he admired the gun. Gordon, at first, was disappointed by that decision of his. Guns were cowardly weapons, helpful only in niche situations but never on the field of battle.

Yet Ranun placed him in Kinler’s agency… Wouldn’t that put him in some battle scenarios? A weak link burdened a strong chain. But a great mind didn’t carry those with weaker ones either. Why couldn’t Carter hire him instead? Why didn’t they just put someone smart on a team of smart people? Teams were strongest when they had many with parallel skill sets.

“You look troubled,” Carter said.

Gordon took a breath, realizing that his eyebrows showed some worry. “I just… worry about his strength.”

“You’re too traditional,” Carter said. “You’re nothing like your brother.”

Gordon frowned. He and Ranun might have had their differences in personality, but their goals aligned well enough. Weren’t they? No, they were too similar in some cases… But, Gordon was proud of what the both of them achieved together. Soucrest had matured since they took over, and Gordon didn’t regret any of this. Ranun was an exemplary ruler. And Gordon was confident in himself as a general to his king brother.

“You know, in Brontos, leaders are elected by brain over brawn. A total opposite to what we do here in Valoria. Jaxton would be stronger than you in their society.”

“Isn’t the Uro director a dictator? I thought his people despised him.”

“I never said they didn’t have their faults, only that their system is different in execution. But, did you know that Brontos and Valoria run on the same form of government?”

Gordon said nothing. He just listened to the agent-general in front of him. Gordon wasn’t naive enough to question Carter. He knew what he was talking about, and Gordon had nothing of value to add himself.

“Meritocracy,” Carter lifted a finger. “The rule of ability over all. It’s why the strongest warriors rule in Valoria, and the smartest minds rule in Brontos.”

“Your point?”

“Our ways of governing have glaring faults,” Carter explained. “In Soucrest, Nolan was a militaristic dictator. We both lived under him—you as a nobleman’s son, me as a citizen on the streets. You may think life hasn’t changed that much, but it has. You’ve never been regular enough to tell properly. We’ve faced poverty and famine while you ate cake for birthdays in your youths and drank wine every night during your teens. But now, if you ask a citizen our age what the differences are from Nolan’s rule to Ranun’s, you’ll find that they love their king because they brought them out of something. A troubled past. On the first day of Spring, Ranun changed everything for the better.”

“And that wouldn’t have happened if Ranun didn’t use meritocracy to overthrow Nolan,” Gordon said. He remembered that early morning, back when Ranun could still pull off those crazy stunts, while his curse was beginning to form under his stomach. He stormed Falcon Hill, climbed mythstone walls with his boots, found Nolan Whyte in his palace, and killed him in a proper duel. That day took many years off of his life—many battles—but at the time, Ranun was none the wiser. “I don’t see your point. Good men can rule the same as evil men. It’s the balance of life. Good and evil exist everywhere, even in government.”

“So when Ranun is no longer king, do we fall back to reign such as Nolan?” Carter countered. “Do our citizens grow hungry again? Do we take in slaves once more and have our people eat bugs they find on the street as meals?”

“Ranun has situated many men to continue his legacy,” Gordon said. “Symond is next in line. Foxa after. It’s the rule of life, Carter. What is the alternative?”

“I don’t quite know yet, Gordon, but one must exist out there. I think monarchy—what the elves do—doesn’t work favorably either. But this mindset of a king needing to be purely strong or purely smart to rule can bring terror to many. I’m certain Ranun agrees with me, but it’s not like we can change things when they are already good. The greatest change comes when everything is at its worst.”

Gordon sighed. “Ranun wants to rule by example, show the other kingdoms how to lead a nation properly. He hopes that they listen and follow, but he’s naive in that way, I think. But that’s beside the point. How do you expect the Church to agree to a change that alters their core beliefs? We’d be kicked out of the Kingdom’s Summit targeted. It’s a tricky world, Carter. You’re speaking about complicated issues as if they can be solved.”

Carter nodded. He reached behind himself to pick up a glass of water, taking a sip. “You speak passionately. Your heart is beating heavily, but it’s hoping to be wrong.”

Gordon only noticed now that his glasses were leaking mist from the Soulgem tucked into the right of his temples. “You’re reading my heart? Stop it! It’s uncomfortable.” Gordon flushed, covering his heart with his hand.

“If I can see past your armor, I can see past your flesh. These glasses look for similarities and differences, like footsteps on the ground or, in this instance, your heartbeat. And hearts are always changing their rhythm and cadence.”

“It’s a pervy pair of glasses, that’s for sure,” Gordon said. “I’ll be sure to warn any women we come across of you.”

“Ah, no, my glasses won’t allow me to peak past clothes without breaking through the skin as well. Not that I would otherwise…”

“Sure…” Gordon said, leaning forward. He pressed his hands against his knee pads. “When do you suggest we begin the operation?”

“Tonight,” Carter said.

“Tonight? Isn’t it a little too early for us to strike?”

“We don’t know how long this Corolla figure will be in town, let alone if he even is. But, if so, it’s better to catch him while we can, tackle any available leads. And if Corolla isn’t in the city, we’ll move on to do what has long needed to be done.”

“And what is that?”

“Strike them at the base of their operations,” Carter grinned. “It’s somewhere in Gleon, but the Gleonish say they are unaware of any bases. I think they’re honest in that regard. But finding at least one of his dealers should get us another thread. One that leads directly to their ‘Kitchen.’”

Gordon smiled. They figured already that they transported their product using the Southern Road, the massive road stretching from Wargon out in the west, up through northern Soucrest, before ending in Gleon right where the road hits the Great Desert. Caravans and traders used roads such as those for trading primarily, since long roads such as those expedited trade missions. It seemed like an easy route to take advantage of by a syndicate exporting their drugs.

“Let’s hope we can do both,” Gordon said. “We need to destroy their base regardless, but I already promised we’d get the bastard while we are here. I can’t return to Ranun empty-handed this time.”

Carter smiled. He was ambitious, much like Jaxton. But he, too, wanted to help. The mystery was the challenge that drove him more so than the passion. Gordon kept surrounding himself with freaks.

How had Gordon grown so much out of his bitter youth?