"No matter how long a fox lives, it will never be up to any good."

Le Chien is a fancy, well-established five-star restaurant located in the commercial zone of Mistral. An establishment that exudes elegance and boasts its superiority with its decor. Members of the upper-class society wined and dined there. People ranged from top business officials and politicians. After all, it was the best place to be.

It was the perfect place for an ideal mark.

A young woman entered the restaurant, dressed in an Atlesian Military attire. She walked with apparent authority, ignoring the curious, admiring stares she got from the ones she passed. She approached the host stand and stopped in front of the man behind it.

While intimidated by the woman's presence, the host kept his composure and spoke, "Reservations?"

"Yes," The woman answered. "The reservation is under the name Mr. Morado."

The host searched through the names of the reservation book, feeling the intense gaze from the woman's muddy-green eyes. His finger soon rested on the title, Mr. Morado. The man looked up and smiled, leading the military officer to her designated table. It was in the far back of the room, next to the bathrooms.

The woman grimaced. Unlike most other tables in the restaurant, several candles decorated the surface. Obviously, to mask the foul smell of the bathrooms. It took a lot of mental fortitude from the woman not to outright complain to the host.

She knew it wasn't his fault for the choice of seating. Perhaps it was all that was available. Nonetheless, the woman accepted the seat with a forced smile. When the host returned to his post, the smile faded.

Time passed.

The woman remained in her seat, keeping up with her appearance. Her face was stern, and her posture was straight and proper. Her eyes shifted to the clock on the wall now and then. She arrived fifteen minutes early at the restaurant.

Punctuality was vital to her.

But her date didn't feel the same way.

"He's late..." The woman rhythmically tapped her fingers on the table with the other. Her eyes shifted from right to left, scanning the area around her. Dozens of people filled the room, eating elegantly with their partners and laughing away without a care.

Careless and defenseless.

"Just try putting up with it a little while longer, Rowan." A feminine voice came from the earbud in the woman's ear.

Rowan rolled her eyes and responded, "I'm trying. But it's uncomfortable being here. And I hate this outfit. It's hugging me in places it shouldn't."

"Maybe that has something to do with you picking an outfit two sizes smaller than you're used to." The voice chided.

"Shut up, Mari," Rowan said through clenched teeth. The woman looked ahead and smiled once a young man in a double-breasted, purple suit wandered over to the table. It was the man of the hour. Her date. Mr. Morado.

The man took a seat.

"Please excuse my tardiness. I got caught up in a meeting." Morado explained himself, wiping away some of the sweat on his face with a handkerchief.

"No worries. I just got here myself." Rowan replied.

"Oh, how very original. You come up with that one yourself?" Mari asked.

"Shut up, Mari!" Rowan internally screamed, struggling to keep a smiling face at the man in front of her.

"Now then, Miss. Mari Gould," Morado began.

"Yes." Rowan nodded.

"You bitch! You're using my name again?!" Mari shouted. The sudden increase in volume feedback caused Rowan to turn her head and cringe. The woman casually brought her hand up to her copper-colored hair and brushed it behind her left ear, stealthily removing the earbud in a flawless motion.

"So, Ms. Mari Gould, you mentioned in your message that you're a special operative from Atlas, correct?" Morado rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. "What brings you all the way here to Mistral?"

"Security matters. Recently, a string of high-end robberies has been occurring around the kingdoms. General James Ironwood sent me here because he believes Mistral will be the criminal's next target. I've investigated the manner and concluded that your company, Mr. Morado, will be next."

Morado looked at Rowan with wary eyes. "Preposterous. I've never heard of any string of high-end robberies."

"Of course, I have proof." Rowan reached into her uniform and pulled out her scroll. She swiped through the screens' photos, detailing information about numerous robberies throughout Remnant. "So far, small businesses and shipments owned by the Schnee Dust Company have been targeted. However, I believe that will not be the case for much longer."

"I am not worried about some thugs. My security is top-notch. Not a single piece of merchandise has ever been stolen from me." Morado proudly proclaimed as he moved his hand to his chest. That same arrogance and hubris made guys like him prime targets for Rowan. If he refused to acknowledge the possibility others could steal from him; then he was in for a rude awakening.

"There's a first time for everything, Mr. Morado. It's always better to be safe than sorry."

"So, you're here to ensure I'm safe?"

"Yes."

"Say if I were to believe your suspicions. Where we would go from here?"

"The first thing that would need to be done would be for me to examine your company's security. I will need your information on your security systems, staff, everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, sir. Everything. These criminals can steal from the Schnee Dust Company, after all. We cannot afford to be careless."

"Careless, huh?" Morado leaned back in his chair and chuckled. Four waiters approached the man from behind, carrying chairs. Each of them pulled up on the sides of the table and took a seat. "That is rich coming from someone like you."

Rowan tightened her jaw and tightly clenched the tablecloth. All eyes were on her. At first, she tried to keep her eyes solely on Morado. But, her eyes unconsciously shifted to the man seated next to him. It was a man she had long recognized. Tall and burly, even while seated, the man towered over her.

The other three men she didn't recognize. Nor did she care for that matter. There was only one threat at that table — a tall, athletic-looking man wearing a brown suit and purple lipstick. Nothing about him spoke subtly, something Rowan internally screamed about in her head.

"Well, well, well," The man began as he rested his hands on the table with a sly grin, "If it isn't my old friend, Rowan Cassidy. How've you been?"

"Duncan..." Rowan spat.

"I must say, Mr. Butcher, everything went exactly as you predicted. I am surprised she did not see through this elaborate trap." Morado bragged.

"That's always been one of her weaknesses, Morado. Arrogance." Duncan proclaimed. "Rowan here is a con artist from Vacuo. I met her a couple of years back. She targets saps like you and robs them of everything before running off with her tail between her legs. Or rather, she used to be able to do that."

Duncan and his men joined together in mocking laughter. Others in the restaurant turned to face them but quickly turned again once they settled down.

"How'd you find me, Duncan?" Rowan asked.

"It was simple. You may not notice it, Rowan, but you have a pattern. I picked up on it and found your target before you did." Duncan explained. He grabbed a glass of wine from one of his men and poured himself a drink. "So, here we are again. How many times have we run into each other now?"

"Thirteen," Rowan answered.

"Thirteen," He quietly repeated with a nod of his head. He lifted his drink and took a sip. "Hopefully, this time will be the last one. You should have the money you owe us by now, right?"

"I don't owe you anything." Rowan defiantly shook her head.

"You owe me everything!" Duncan slammed his fist on the table. All eyes turned to him at that moment. "You put a bullet in my back and left me to die in the sandy dunes of Vacuo!"

"Lower your voice, Mr. Butcher," Morado demanded.

"Shut up!" Duncan snapped his fingers. His men pulled out guns from their aprons and fired into the air. The people ran and screamed their heads off, evacuating the restaurant. "I'm the one in control here! Not you!"

"See? That's why I did what I did, Duncan." Rowan sighed. "You're a loose cannon. You don't think before you act. People like you are more trouble than they're worth."

Not a single shred of guilt or remorse lingered in the woman's voice. She knew what she had done was something unforgivable. She didn't expect any forgiveness. Nor did she expect any punishment.

"You have no idea the shit you put me through! My boss will have my head if I don't have their money soon!" Duncan seethed with rage seeing how calm Rowan acted in his presence. He was the big man with the gun holding all the cards. So why? Why didn't she react? Show a single shred of fear or despair? "If they're going to hunt me down, I might as well drag you down with me!"

"You got yourself into this mess," Rowan reminded. "I told you what would happen if you affiliated with The Flock. You didn't heed my warning, and now you are desperate to save your skin. You're willing to drag everyone down with you to hell, aren't you?"

"Shut the hell up!" Duncan aimed his gun directly at Rowan's face. If that's how she would play it, why not end everything now and be done with it?

"Wait a minute, Mr. Butcher!" Morado called out to the deranged man. "This was not part of the deal! You said we would call the proper authorities and have the woman arrested!"

"Why are you still here, vermin?!" Duncan turned his gun to Morado and pulled the trigger. Blood splattered. It reached across the table and hit Rowan's cheek. She grimaced as the man's body hit the floor. Afterward, her gaze moved to the guns pointed at her once more. "Now then, where were we? Oh, that's right. Killing you."

"Is this necessary, Duncan?" Rowan asked.

"Of course. We'll gun you down and leave you for dead. It's fitting." Duncan and his men pulled their triggers and fired multiple shots at the seated woman.

At that moment, a pulse wave of energy enveloped the entire area. Everything appeared to have come to a complete stop. Rowan stood up from her chair, then leisurely walked around the group of men. She repositioned the ones who shot at her, ensuring they aimed their guns at each other. Later, Rowan set her sights on Duncan. She walked over to him, pulled the seat from under him, then smirked before heading towards the door.

Before she could reach it, however, things returned to normal. Duncan's men shot each other down, collapsing to the floor along with their leader. Duncan was the only one to recover. He shot up from the ground and glared at the smiling vixen across the room. She teasingly waved him goodbye before she left the restaurant.

"Run, run, as fast as you can...." Duncan angrily muttered. He stepped over the bodies of his men and then chased after Rowan.

"Son of a bitch! Why did he have to show up now at all times?" Rowan ran down the street as fast as she could, avoiding the civilians. She placed her earbud back in her ear, then yelled, "Mari! Why didn't you warn me about Duncan?!"

"I don't know; maybe it had something to do with you removing your earbud, so I couldn't! What's wrong with you? How many times have I warned you never to remove your earbud?" Mari scolded her partner.

Rowan rolled her eyes and kept running, "Whatever! It looks like this place is no good either! I guess we'll have to make a break for Menagerie!"

"It won't do us any good if you don't kill Duncan once and for all, Rowan! He'll continue to follow us until you're dead!"

A shot rang out in the area. Even though it was against her instincts, Rowan looked over her shoulder regrettably. And surprise, surprise, it was none other than Duncan. He began to close in on her, forcing her to pick up the pace. More shots came toward her. Each one rushed past her until one finally hit its mark. The bullet hit her shoulder, disrupting her momentum, which caused her to sprawl violently across the ground.

Once she finally stopped, Duncan already stood over her. His gun aimed directly at her face. When he pulled the trigger, another wave pulse of energy enveloped the area. Rowan extended her arms, allowing twin derringer pistols, [Double-Dealing], to shoot out from her sleeves into her hands, thanks to the unique mechanisms attached to her arms. She aimed the guns at the still man and then unloaded multiple shots at him.

The unsuspecting man was bombarded with explosive bullets. A light flickered around his body before dissipating. Afterward, Rowan violently knocked to the ground with a kick.

"It's over...." Rowan stepped on Duncan's chest and aimed her guns at him.

Duncan coughed violently for a moment before he weakly responded, "Come on now, Rowan. We've done this same song and dance several times now. You don't have the guts to kill me. Or anyone for that matter."

"Try me..." She glared at him. However, it didn't appear to have any effect on him. The proud smile on his face said it all. Rowan gritted her teeth and then pulled the trigger. But it didn't hit Duncan. Instead, the bullet contacted the ground inches away from his face.

"See? I told you that you wouldn't kill me. You don't have it in you...." Duncan taunted her.

Rowan kicked the downed man across the face, rendering him unconscious. Not long afterward did, Mistral Police arrive on the scene. The young vixen made up a quick sob story on the spot and had the man detained and arrested, where he'd hopefully stay for the rest of his days.

But, she was a realist. Sooner or later, the man would escape and chase after her again. Rowan wanted to ensure she was as far away from Mistral as possible.

Afterward, she turned her back to him and walked off. She ignored the gazes of the crowd and continued going down the road.

"Mari. I'm sorry...I couldn't do it...." She sincerely apologized to her partner.

"Don't apologize to me, Rowan. I'm not the one that has to deal with him. That's all on you," Mari dismissed the apology with a sardonic tone.

"Well, so much for Mistral," Rowan complained. "Guess I'll head off to Menagerie for a little while. It could be interesting. Mari, mind making me a new ID?"

"No, you're not running this time." Mari refused.

"What?"

"Thirteen times. Thirteen times Duncan has interfered in our scams. I'm getting sick of tired of it." Mari said. "This time, only Duncan will be the one to go on a trip."

"What are you planning?"

"I've already set up a little paper trail. Whenever Duncan escapes, he'll discover you've already bought yourself a ticket to Menagerie. However, you'll stay in Mistral."

"And do what? That situation at the restaurant isn't something you can easily erase."

"Erased? No. Altered? Hell, yes!"

Rowan entered an alleyway and shook her head at the sound of the clattering keyboard from her earpiece. She knew better than to underestimate the technical prowess of her companion.

"Okay, fine. If I'm going to stay here in Mistral, I will need a place to stay and lay low."

"Already have that covered. Although, you're not going to like it."

"Why not?" Rowan couldn't explain it, but she felt an explicit sensation wash over her. As if warning her of the potential dangers in her partner's following sentence.

"How'd you feel about going to school?" Mari asked.