As he wiped his forehead yet again, he sighed, leaning against a wooden tree trunk. Yet even then, he could not hide from the scorching heat of the unforgiving Sun.

He was cognizant of Excidium's situation, and that made him prouder of where he worked. The Ascendancy Agency was shrouded in mystery save for everyone but the Agents.

What they were doing was good, honest work.

Often, they would be sent to life-endangering missions to go against the Governors for suppressing Excidiums. He had been part of covert operations.

He grinned as a memory surfaced in his mind. Once, when he was younger, he had a minor role in an important operation- one that even required defusing bombs. His role was to ensure their wireless trackers worked efficiently, but even such a small role could not protect him from danger.

Their enemy had somehow swooped in, armed and ready to kill. To send the innocents to their wrongful deaths.

That operation had earned him a promotion to more important tasks, for when the enemy had barged into the control room to loot the Agency's secretive technology, he had risked it all and defended the Agency's secrets with his life.

"You bloody fool, do you really think you can stop ? You don't look a day over 14 either. What a puny kid," the Amorals had guffawed heartily.

Their hoots of mocking laughter had become hoots of bloodchilling screams when he had dropped a smoke bomb.

It was no ordinary smoke bomb too. The intensity of the darkness that engulfed the room was tenfold higher, and it launched a brutal attack on one's respiratory system if they left their nose unprotected. When he had the roars of the Amorals' before they barged in, he had swiftly worn a mask tightly over his nose for he had planned it all along.

"Who's laughing now?" he had taunted back with a relish while he swung his trusty sword left and right, maiming the complacent Amorals while they tripped and lumbered awkwardly in the darkness.

Men felled when his friends came in to help, for he had purposefully left the wireless trackers that were embedded with a small two-way radio transceiver in it.

After that day, he had been praised and been seen in an even higher regard by the head of the Ascendancy Agency, Valesque.

I'd do anything for him. And that includes this ridiculous field mission. Usually, he looked forward to any mission assigned to him, but scouting out people to evaluate if they were a truly suitable fit for the Agency was never his cup of tea.

If it weren't for his silly comrade, Elioenai Seibert, he would have never accepted the mission. "You're always in the stuffy office- I know this mission is boring as Hell, but your current life is duller."

"You mean to say peace is mundane, eh, Eli?"

"No, you tactless idiot. Peace is amazing. Routine is nothing. Get your arse off your chair. It's time to work."

He firmly believed that when Eli wanted to, he could persuade even an Amoral to turn against the Governors. Eli was born with the gift of persuasion- and the gab. It was a pity that Eli chose to use his gift of the gab more, for he knew that that would cause him to live a simpler life in the management department of the Agency, which was tucked away in an undisclosed area of Excidium- somewhere even he did not know.

If Eli hadn't come all the way from who-knows-where to talk me into doing this shit, I'll never be here. But then again, it hadn't all been horrible, he reflected when he recalled the fight he had with the girl.

His mission was to scout the girl and get along with her. Why, he was not sure, but he never questioned Valesque. Valesque's words and missions that he assigned him were always for the benefit of the Ascendancy Agency, and it was true that he had started to see what Valesque had long seen in this particular applicant.

Since Valesque had not specified on how he was to plan his first meeting with the girl- Alara- he had decided to put her to the test. So far, the result that he had of her was that she was currently an enigma.

Theorising that she may be gifted in martial arts and maybe even quick-witted, he had chosen an uncommon and atypical method, but it was one where he believed that it would give her a taste of what life was to come when she entered the Agency- unexpected and startling.

And he was not displeased with what he witnessed. It seemed as if they both had unparalleled strengths- physically and mentally- as neither had surrendered or gave in easily. To his pleasant surprise, the fight had worn him out, and that was when he knew.

Alara Berrera's a special girl. She can even become a capable agent.

Secretly impressed by her, he insisted on meeting Alara at the tavern by the Grittie Market for their second encounter- in a discreet manner, of course, in case some spies from other organisations found out about the Agency's current movements.

This will be my second meeting with her... I honestly think that I should put her under a microscope, and maybe test her again too?

He smiled at the thought, and chose to behave in an indifferent, deadpan manner this time round to see her reaction. He also had one more thing in store for her: to test her to see if she could correctly guess when he was lying, and when he was not.

And that reminds me. I am due to be at the tavern soon. Getting up from the ground, he ran his fingers through his hair, walking briskly towards the tavern's direction. Let round two begin.

"Did you fancy a beer, or whiskey? I can't, for the life of me, figure why you would choose the tavern." Alara queried the moment she spotted him. As he seated himself down on the sturdy stool, he thought to himself, let the games begin.

"Well, I fancy many things. Beer, fighting and money." The moment the words flowed out of his mouth, the test had begun.

"What?" sputtered Alara. "I never expected such a reply. You're really one of a kind!"

"Thank you."

She rolled her eyes while sipping her ginger ale. "Do you really enjoy fighting and having money? Don't tell me- you're the type to kill for money, aren't you?"

"Judgemental and gullible," he murmured under his breath. Aloud, he revealed, "there's a lie in one of the sinful interests I mentioned. If you spot the lie correctly, I'll ensure that your voracious appetite for questions will be sated."

"A... is this another test?" Alara huffed when he nodded in response. "Repeat it, please."

"I fancy many things. Beer, fighting and money."

"I fancy many things. Beer, fighting and money." repeated the agent.

She observed his facial expressions while he listed his sins. In spite of her young life, she had already worked a myriad of odd jobs, and one of them was as a waitress at one of the inns. When she worked there, she realised that the poor would often bargain and lie their way through in order to pay cheaper prices as pride wouldn't permit them to live in the streets with the crude label of being 'homeless'.

One of the most common sayings in her hometown was 'The word 'homeless' means a person who does not have a home to live in and might as well have no family'. The poor's excuses when found lying was that, "I have a tight-knit family, and are not estranged. We love and depend on one another. Sad thing is, love can't get us money to buy a room at the inn. We lie because we sometimes get lucky, and avoid paying two tears as a result. Why pay two tears when we can pay two scabs, which is half of two tears?"

Due to this trend of people lying for a low-priced fee, innkeepers began hiring people to detect lies. Alara was one of those employees, and earned a good wage out of it too- she would receive six scabs every four months as her salary! Initially, she was appallingly lousy at it, which cost the innkeeper many losses, and it was only after when her employer threatened to fire her which caused her to pounce into action and finally start to gradually perfect her skills.

It wasn't long before she realised that the key to smelling out a lie was through scrutinising one's facial expressions and behaviour.

There were three types of people.

The first was the excellent liar- it was incredibly hard to detect or pinpoint if they were telling the truth or deceiving her.

The second was the average liar- the type that only got away when she was too exhausted to notice the lie.

Thirdly, there was the atrocious liar- she loved these types, as sometimes their attempts were truly laughable and always caused her to have a challenging time to mask her laughter.

A bad liar may be able to make up elaborate stories but some telltale signs like not meeting one's eyes, smiling a small smile, ears reddening were common traits of a bad liar.

On the other hand, a good liar had detailed stories with no loopholes at all and had an exceptionally wonderful poker face. She hated that. People who can make a perfect poker face are seriously so irritating.

As Alara observed the agent, at first glance she did not see any of the more usual signs. She scrutinised him and watched his lips closely to see if a corner of his lips would twitch slightly or if even a smile crossed his lips.

She failed the first time, but when she made him repeat the words, she realised that there was a difference in tone when he uttered the words 'beer' and 'fighting'. And that tone was guilt.

Alara pursed her lips. If he feels guilty, it means he does enjoy fighting and beer. So is the lie 'money'?

She replayed the memory in her mind. Beer, fighting and money.

When he says money, it is the tone of disdain that is easily dismissed if one does not pay attention to it. He's someone who doesn't like wealth or enjoys it.

"The lie is money."

"The lie is money."

He felt a wave of emotions upon hearing her words. Amazement, horror, surprise and awe.

Am I losing my grip? Did my skills somehow drop during my time in this tiny town? Good god! How did she figure it out? Isn't she some unlearned girl?

"Don't you underestimate me- and no, I'm not some unlearned girl." Alara held his gaze evenly, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment as he had accidentally and unintentionally voiced his thoughts aloud unconsciously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. But still, how did you figure it out?"

And when Alara kindly shared her experience as an innkeeper's assistant, his jaw dropped when he found out how she picked up the useful skill with just her wits. She had no training, no mentor to help her and yet she accomplished what he genuinely doubted most new Agency agents could not.

Alara Berrera was one unique person, and soon he gained respect for her due to her sheer determination and intellect.

"So why do you dislike money so much? People usually love it."

"Money... well, I don't dislike it per se. I just don't enjoy possessing it. I appreciate that having six scabs gives me great ale and beer, but money itself is a dangerous tool. One that people will willingly kill and betray one another for. Truthfully, that spooks me." He took in a breath and envisioned great friends cutting ties just because of monetary issues. What a disgusting thing to think of. "Imagine five great friends of say, eight, ten years, and then they're brutally hurting one another just for a chance at ten bloods?"

"Would they really kill one another for ten bloods? Will they not take their years as longtime friends into consideration?"

He looked at his partner, surprised at her naivete. "Alara, you know, not everyone is like us. Not everyone will choose friendship over money. In more realistic circumstances, people will betray one another for cold hard cash."

"Sounds as if you have your own personal experiences. Who hurt you-" Inexplicably, Alara paused. Then she looked at him.

Feeling self-conscious, he examined his attire and hair. His hair was fine and styled in the 'effortlessly messy' style he preferred, and he could find no beer foam on his face either.

"What? I think my appearance is fine. Why are you- hey, are you checking me out?" he laughed with gaiety at the thought. Sure, we were getting along fine, but there is absolutely no attraction between us- just mutual respect.

"No, you idiotic imbecile! I don't know your name, even though I've known you for almost a week!"

Alara's statement shocked him. That's true, he thought.

"Huh, I never realised. Sorry. My name is Maren Santos."

Maren Santos.

That's his name.

Santos?

"That's a very old surname, Maren, almost ancient and very rarely used these days. In fact nowadays the typical ones are like 'Moklin' and 'Pyggjim'." When he raised his curved eyebrow at 'Pyggjim', Alara flushed, and stammered, "Well, maybe I was exaggerating a little with 'Pyggjim'. But you do know that your surname is extremely uncommon these days, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware of it. I don't know how my family managed to keep this special surname even till the 22nd Century, but I'm proud of it. You know, when my father was alive, he used to say that it was the Governors who totally eradicated the system so much so that-" he stopped when Alara hissed a "HEY!" at him in a tone of exasperation.

"What? What, did I say anything wrong?" Alara couldn't believe her ears. She was just beginning to think that he was a very intelligent guy until he actually dared to openly and loudly criticise the Governors- the staunch, authoritarian, one-state party that won the Blood Revolution in 2099 and that has been dictating ever since.

"Maren... please, we're in public! Anyone can hear whatever we say, and when you mock the Governors, anyone can rat you out if they know you- and even if they don't. However, the same can't be said for me.

What will an officer do when he finds out a common low-class girl and a foreign man lambasted the ruling party?" Alara furrowed her eyebrows and drew in a breath to rein in her emotions and suppress the upsetting memory that was trying to surface.

"They won't, Alara... you're really paranoid. Why do you think I picked a tavern that's just a literal din?" countered Maren, who was about to roll his eyes until Alara disclosed, "That's what I thought so too, until one day my friend Qas was unexpectedly whipped in the town square for yelling that the Governors are heinous people for stealing his friends."

Her face was grave when she continued solemnly, "He was clinging on to his life by a thread at the end of his punishment. He's completely paralysed now."