A finely-dressed man and a small boy stared at each other across a polished wooden table, their eyes focused on the other person sitting one arm length away. The atmosphere was heavy, and the silence had continued unabated for an entire minute as the man scrutinised Gaius’ face, his eyes already narrowed to a slit.

The men that had accompanied Gaius to this room had long fled from the tremendous mental pressure radiating from the man dressed in a tuxedo.

No one dared to breathe as the man reached out with his right hand, his fingers trembling slightly. A wide smirk capered on Gaius’ face as the man continued to agonise over his decision. Another terse moment passed, and determination flashed across his face.

With a triumphant whip, he took a card out of Gaius’ hand, and the little boy broke into uproarious laughter. Gaius tossed the last two cards on his hand onto the pile laid out on the table, and laid back on the cushiony chair.

“Looks like I win, Mister Flynn.”

“Damnit. I’ve been playin’ this for over thirty years!” The man tossed his own hand onto the table. “How much practice did you even have on Earth anyway?”

The small boy racked his head, but nothing came up. “I can’t remember a whole bunch of stuff.”

“Amnesia? That’s really rare…” The man cricked his neck, and his brilliant head of blonde hair danced, reflecting some light into Gaius’ eyes. “But again, I was transported here, unlike you. Reincarnation’s so dangerous…I don’t even know why the gods would do that.”

Gaius didn’t correct the man, who had lapsed into a ponderous silence.

He too needed some time to think, after all. It had been unexpected for him to encounter a Southern Summoned not under the Human God, and although he’d theorised before about the presence of other Summoned that were not called here as heroes, the small boy never really understood why such incidents would occur.

Most surprising, however, was a Summoned who had taken up an occupation of a vice lord in the slum area of any city. Gaius found it hard to believe that someone who was going through a fantastical experience would choose to be what essentially was a mafia boss or the leading figure of a revolutionary movement.

The first thing that had rolled out of Flynn’s lips when Gaius entered his room was nothing as cliché as ‘So you’ve come. Hand over your valuables, and I’ll let you live’, but rather ‘Nice to meet you, comrade of another world’. The little boy was obviously shocked, and then further blindsided by the mafia boss’ offer to play a round of Old Maid, but it wasn’t anything that would have hampered his cognitive functions.

It was rather satisfying to beat down someone in a social game after being surprised by that very person, but he wasn’t going to show it on his face.

“So,” said Gaius, “why did you send your men to invite me over? Did you notice my presence the moment I entered the city?”

“No, I only sensed your uniqueness when you entered the warehouse. Initially, after receiving word that someone who was unfamiliar and rich had entered Lower Elinaris, I’d wanted to make use of that someone—”

“Boss, you told us to apprehend that fool, not invite that person!” A voice came from outside the door.

“Shut up, Kidd! Don’t go eavesdropping on our conversation!” Flynn threw a baseball, that he’d gotten from what apparently was thin air, at the wooden door, which hit it with a solid thud. Excited squeals filled the air as the eavesdroppers ran away, sounding things like ‘He’s angry~!’, and Gaius laughed.

“They’re like children,” said Gaius. “If they didn’t look like gangsters, that is.”

Indeed, the group that had led him here was more scarred and threatening than what the moonlight and darkness let up on. Rough, rugged…their faces right out of a nightmare…a child might run away when they saw the faces of these men in broad daylight.

“Tell me about it. I sometimes wonder if their reputation was fabricated.” Flynn rolled his eyes, returning to the elegant air that his tuxedo exuded naturally. He sipped at a cup, and then gestured at the one laid out in front of Gaius. “Have some.”

Gaius sipped at the drink. “Hmm, it’s non-alcoholic. Anyway, how did you detect my uniqueness? I need to know that.”

“Well, this entire place…” The man rubbed his nose. “It’s recorded on my Status as a Unique Skill. This warehouse is like my own world; I can tell the approximate strength and other details of anyone inside.”

“Does that somehow tie into why your men were so scared when they approached me?” Gaius asked, filing the Status thing that Flynn had mentioned into the ‘To Ask Nexus Later’ cabinet in his mind.

“I have indeed noted an increase in my men’s self-preservation instincts,” replied Flynn. “It is welcome, if nothing else, but it also means that I can’t find anyone to vent anger on when I really need it. It’s probably something due to the Warehouse, which is like a gift that keeps on giving.”

He looked at Gaius. “Still, it’s unbelievable that you’re a Knight. An eleven-year old Knight…no one’s going to believe me. I’m glad that my men didn’t provoke you.”

“Are Knights really that rare?” Gaius tilted his head. He’d seen a handful who were younger than twenty, and well, his stay in Heritage Basestation had allowed him to come into contact with Lords and even Paragons.

Being a Knight didn’t really seem to be that much of a deal.

“They are, I assure you.” Flynn rubbed his nose. “A Knight can serve as the ruler of a third-tier city in the South, or its equivalents in the rest of the Five Lands. Just add one rank up for second and first-tier cities, and you begin to see that many people fail to breach the gap between the Squire and Knight realms.”

Gaius thought back to the Knight that was still in his captivity, and thought back to another two Knights he’d killed in Heritage, before belatedly realising that he’d deprived the South of three young city lords.

“Oops.”

“Oops?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Gaius cleared his throat. “So, I actually came here to find a crime group that I can sponsor, but it turns out that you guys are also a bunch of revolutionaries.”

Flynn’s eyes lit up. “Finally, someone who actually recognises this group for what it is. My men don’t even know that they’re revolutionaries, damn. They just think that we’re raiding House convoys as some Robin Hood-slash-Mafia game, but we are trying to overthrow the ruling House of Elinaris.”

The boy looked at Flynn, and his smile faded slightly. “That’s the reason why you haven’t cleared up the slums yet, isn’t it? You were intending to stoke fervour for your cause by highlighting the inability and unwillingness of Elinaris’ rulers to help the needy. I understand where you’re coming from, but it is saddening.”

“What Lower Elinaris needs is a new rule, a new order that is willing and able to provide the basic necessities for a dignified life. My efforts alone will not sustain this change, and only I alone have a vested interest in doing so amongst the other crime lords,” replied Flynn. His golden hair rippled as he spoke. “We need to use the coffers of Elinaris to better the life of the poorest in it, but the House of Varita will not stand for it.”

Gaius scrutinised the man closely. “What are you plans, then? I don’t want an abridged version.”

“Abridged…” Flynn produced a top hat from thin air and placed it on his head. Smiling wryly, he created another two glasses of sweet-smelling liquid and placed it on the wooden table. “Here’s what I’m intending to do…”