The attack on the Church of Thomas was clear. It was criticizing the ‘holiness’ of the Church of Thomas. The desired effect was to see them as just normal clergy with powers that came from a serum.

Gaston didn’t even have to move for the past few days. He stayed in the safehouse, monitoring the change of opinion, as he let the rest of the operatives that Sir Mortimer had hired to steer the public opinion. Hild who was sipping on her ice cold latte was scrolling through the streaming channels. Watching a drama that she had been following.

“So carefree.”

“And you are so serious. It’s not like you’re getting paid more if you intend to work out on these details. The Church of Thomas is under scrutiny and we have barely lifted a finger.”

The Church of Thomas had not opted. They came out of the open and declared to the public that an enemy had come out. Although they clearly had an idea who was targeting them, it was also a warning to Gaston who had been using his Diable guise to bring them down.

“They have their own sponsors by the looks of it.”

Hild shrugged. She leaned on the couch and placed her boots on the low table.

“No one gets large without backing and supporting. You must remind yourself here that there are people who are quite supportive.”

Gaston took the piece of paper that Hild had had given him. It was a paper containing the individuals and organized crime that are supporting the Church from behind.

“The Le Silence is supporting them. That is bad news.”

“Yeah, from the looks of it they are helping our friend from completely falling over. Rubedo Andino is connected to the Le Silence, and we wouldn’t have known this if we didn’t push him.”

Gaston groaned, “When did they make contact?”

“Who knows? But Le Silence has been using this to creep up. Now normally, I’d like to finish this problem, but if Le Silence is involved, then we need to talk about this to Sir Mortimer.”

She thought it over with a sullen face. Like she found something annoying about dealing with the Le Silence. Gaston could understand. Rey Castellano, known by his associates as The Banker, was a prolific man, a silent, scheming man who led to the union of the mobsters all over Italy, France, and of Europe during the BEHEMOTH event that made a ruckus and brought down through their combined forces, and the NATO of old gathering. Gaston knew the man and the respected boss of Le Silence and the way he gathered the low-crime syndicates into forming a union called Le Silence is an achievement itself.

“I get the problem,” she said slowly. “Le Silence itself is well-connected and there are even talks that the Banker himself supported the idea in the reforms. They say that he personally funded some of our friends in the EU and well, they have connections within the UEDF if that’s the case.”

“Looks like we tripped one of their connections,” Gaston placed the document on the low table.

Hild took a sip of her latte and stared at her drama. “It was bound to happen. It’s hard to be an upstart. Even Lady Romanov wasn't truly an Upstart, since she had connections, learned under mentors and was capable from the start to make use of these connections. I believe that Le Silence’s Boss and our Sir are well-connected. If anything, this is something that I had to inform them about.”

“I see. No wonder you weren’t around.”

“I do have to talk to my employer privately. No offense, Gaston, but there are times where I prefer being informed privately instead of sharing a phone with you.”

Gaston ignored her and focused his eyes on the clip.

“Since you’ve contacted them. What’s our next step?”

“A meeting with a protégée of the Le Silence. We step on their toes, ruin some of their favorite dealings, and possibly expose some of their names.”

“Is Galeano or Dane we talking about here?”

“Galeano. Dane is too busy handling matters in the Balkans. You know how things are there lately after the Golden Gate.”

“He can’t close those gates. No, I doubt those places can still be revived.”

“Dane Castellano thinks that they can.”

“That is because they have not seen the insides of it. I don’t comment on my personal feelings, but if I have advice for them. Don’t touch the Golden Gate. It is not the place one should. It is not fit for human life.”

Hild regarded his words with interest. Although Gaston didn’t want to speak out using his emotions. There were times where he couldn’t just easily bottle it in. The disgust and utter hatred that Gaston had more emotion than usual. Gaston was a stolid, self-control, and had always strived to be a quiet professional.

But the thought of the Golden Gate and individuals trying to poke their hands on it made him furious. It was one of the sore buttons that Gaston can’t help himself. It was simply too infuriating. He understood their desire for resources, but the Golden Gate was not viable for those who weren’t naturally made to be superhuman. Breakers were made to be reliant on their dosage of the serum used to create them and the ichor they take. They rely on the intake of ichorium to produce bioenergy that fuels their ability.

The Golden Gate held no supply. There are pockets of land where it is impossible to use technology. It was a place where those who are not strong and prepared enough are bound to fall. It was a place not meant for those who were not prepared to fight the old fashion way. To fight with their wit and strength. To shed their blood and beg for their Gods to have mercy on them. It was a place where Gaston had been humbled. Where he had continuously given up and ran. Hearing that a fool was trying to make use of it. Made him think ill of said fool.

“So are we meeting them?”

Gaston asked Hild. Hild nodded quietly and told him that they were meeting them later in a cafe in the high-end district of the city.

This time they didn’t ride her motorcycle. They took the compact car that they had rented and drove to the meeting place. The streets of this city were quite modernized. The rowed houses that are interlocked together creating this wall of defense if needed. Urbanization in this part of the world had relied on creating stronger walls unlike the design choice of the easterners about retreating their homes underground. There are security walls and bioenergy defenses in the form of shielding.

Beyond the controversy of the Church of Thomas. The common people didn’t care most of the time. They cared more about their livelihood and the way it should be lived.

Gaston found the place where their contact was meeting them. First thing that Gaston had noticed was the sparse crowd around. He spread his senses and felt the gaze of multiple men. He flicked his hand and spread this voltage of electricity that traveled on the pavement, pinging every electronic device and making this static feedback on his bracer.

The café was empty aside from the ones close to the window. Gaston squinted his eyes and saw a figure not far from them, hidden by the veil of sunlight. The barrel of his gun poking out.

A smug confident aura made from superiority. Galeano Castellano was the first son, the confident son, the man who had followed the footsteps of his father and thrived on it.

Gaston walked in front of Galeano coolly. The guard who was a head taller than Gaston sized him up. Hild sat next to the booth and waved at Galeano curtly.

“My friend, trying to intimidate this man is a death wish. Leave, I will not have your jaws broken.”

Gaston sat across Galeano. The man who tried to intimidate Gaston stood not far from the booth.

“Do you do this job now again? Or is this a special occasion?”

“Special occasion. Let us not waste time, Sir Galeano. Have you talked to Mortimer?”

“I have. It is interesting what we have. It looks like we both know of this or simply our friend Sir Mortimer has forgotten our friendship?”

“I cannot speak for him. But if you bring me that man out. This can be over.”

Galeano tapped his fingers on the table. “Rubedo is an interesting man. Principled. He is what’s left of goodness. I’ve not seen such a decent man with convictions clad in steel. He is no businessman, but he has talents. Among all of us who are selfish. He is one of the true ones who is forced to dirty his hands.”

This surprised Gaston. He had spoken with this man. He was rightfully arrogant and he had the ego of a tower. However, to make such a man like him talk with respect. It made Gaston wonder. Galeano saw through the pause in Gaston. He leaned forward.

“Then tell me. Are you willing to protect him?”

Galeano shook his head.

“He is a good man, yes. But not a good man to have in this world. He does not belong to a good place. He is not worth the trouble and having someone take a seat in his stead is much more profitable.”

Gaston could guess what Galeano wanted. A new man taking the throne that Rubedo Andino had ruled. The new man will be the head of the church and will be leading the Church to a new agenda.

“If left alone you will continue this crusade. I have talked to Sir Mortimer, and in a way he already has achieved the desired effect and with Le Silencio working with you in the chains you are selling.”

“I will need confirmation.”

“She knows.”

Hild sent a message from her employers. It was a message from the one who has been providing their information. A picture of Rubedo Andino taken from his home, beaten, and with a cuff on him.

“He was too trusting. He heard the whispers and trusted knowing that you were coming.”

Gaston nodded. “I was half-expecting you to fight over this. The Castellano must be busy.”

“We must adhere to standards and assess the one that benefits us most. If the removal of Rubedo can prevent the loss of all the money we had spent on him. Then this is something that must be done. Faith is a dangerous and useful weapon. It is also a shield that protects us. Your work is efficient and my father would understand.”

“This will not make you look weak?”

“It will make us reasonable. Our friends are part of the Church. Some of them truly believe that it is better to do this. I do visit their church sometimes, it is pleasant, and having pleasant god-fearing men on your side is great for PR, no?”

Gaston agreed. He leaned on the booth’s seat and loosened visibly.

“You save me trouble then, Sir.”

“Can the Sir, I respect your works, Hardy. You and Reginald are reasonable warriors and you understand how the current world works. Of course, it is to minimize the problems.”

Galeano stood up and shook Gaston’s hand.

“It is good that we notice immediately. I am a busy man, so I shall take my leave.”

The two of them left. Hild sat on the opposite side of the cafe. She grinned.

“I told you it was going to be an easy job.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. It is underwhelming that it just ends here.”

“Are you complaining about having not done anything?”

“No, not really.”

“It is not like we are the center. What we have done made reactions and it caused that man to come out. They are smart men, smart enough to unite all of these mobsters, no?”

She smiled thinly. She always had that poisonous look. That cocksure arrogance and used to it attitude. It was annoying, irritating, and honestly something you’d expect from her.

There was no grand fight. No clash of ideals. No battle that could stir the hearts of two opposite sides. From the start it was not a fair fight, it was a simple arrangement made by powerful men.

Gaston had to remind himself that he was not the only one who could do his job and it was this reminder that he was constantly making sure that he was useful and usable.

Leaning back, Gaston relaxed himself while staring at the woman who had earned millions of credits just by playing the right cards. It was dirty wet work and fortunately the people in charge, who semi-rule these lands, were eerily competent enough to understand what needed to be done to minimize their loss and preserve their holy status quo in this region of the world.