Taylor and Sayaka strolled through the lively neighborhood, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the streets. They exchanged nods with several familiar faces as they walked. It was that time of day when workers were heading home, and students filled the sidewalks, creating a vibrant atmosphere. As they made their way, Taylor spotted a few of her former classmates and instinctively turned her gaze away, just as she always did. She had chosen to let go of most of her bitterness, yet she was aware that it still resided within her, quietly simmering beneath the surface.
This section of the Docks had its share of challenges, but the streets were relatively well-maintained. Graffiti and gang symbols adorned the walls, a reminder of the underlying tensions in the area. The young girl felt a strange sense of security, realizing that she was likely safer here than she had ever been in her hometown. It was ironic that her connection to the mafia, albeit indirect, had brought her this unexpected peace of mind.
As Taylor pondered over her culinary ideas, a sudden uproar caught her attention. A sleek black sedan stood ominously in front of a dilapidated storefront, and muffled cries echoed from the shadows around the corner.
A gang member, dressed sharply in a suit, stood guard at the entrance to the alley. His stance was imposing, feet firmly planted apart, hands clasped in front of him. Most people walking by chose to avert their eyes, deeming it wiser to ignore the unsettling, yet familiar, scene unfolding before them.
Taylor hesitated for a moment, her attention caught by the troubling situation. Sayaka tugged at her sleeve, urging her to move along, but Taylor couldn't help but glance back. A young man was being restrained by a large Asian man, while another thug rained down blows on him. Though she didn't recognize the victim, she was all too familiar with the reputation of the assailants; they were infamous loan sharks affiliated with the ABB.
As they stepped away from the event, the hostess's phone buzzed, prompting her to pull it from her pocket and check the new message. At the same time, Taylor tightened her black scarf around her neck, sensing the chill that crept in as the sun dipped below the horizon.
"It seems like tonight is going to be busy," Sayaka said, glancing at her phone.
"Of course, it's Friday, after all," Taylor replied with a casual shrug.
"Actually, there's something else the Peony will have to deal with," Sayaka continued, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. "Winslow High and the Town Office are looking for means to handle a lawsuit."
Taylor stifled a laugh, pretending to cough to mask her amusement. "And what does that imply?"
"Who do you think will step in to loan them the money or provide information?" Sayaka asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I should have guessed," Taylor said, her surprise genuine. "This town really has its issues, doesn't it?"
"You're starting to catch on," Sayaka said, lifting a finger in acknowledgment. "But it can be lucrative if you're on the right side of things."
"True," Taylor replied, slipping her hands into the pockets of her brown jacket, her expression thoughtful. "Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth all the trouble."
"It's not ideal, but many of us have family here," the hostess remarked, her voice steady.
The young girl exchanged a brief look with her friend, who offered a tired smile before Taylor turned her gaze back to the path ahead.
As they strolled quietly through the bustling streets, the atmosphere started buzzing with more energy and excitement. They soon arrived at the entertainment district by the docks, where the scene transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors. Bright neon lights flickered and danced, illuminating the façades of clubs, casinos, and short-stay hotels, each vying for attention with their unique designs and vibrant signage. The air was thick with the scent of street food, mingling with the salty breeze from the nearby water, while patrons milled about, eager to indulge in the nightlife that awaited them.
It was still early evening, and the atmosphere remained relatively calm. However, that tranquility would soon fade as the night progressed and the crowd began to arrive, bringing with them a more chaotic energy.
As the two friends made their way along the bustling main road, she finally spotted the building they had been looking for.
The Peony Lantern stood out prominently among the other structures, its grandeur impossible to overlook. This impressive two-story establishment was adorned with intricate Asian-themed decorations that exuded elegance and sophistication. The architecture was a harmonious blend of traditional motifs and modern design. The atmosphere surrounding the building was charged with an air of exclusivity, further emphasized by the tight security presence. A notable number of well-dressed men in suits stood vigil at the entrance, their watchful eyes ensuring that only the right people could enter this lavish venue.
They entered through a discreet side entrance, where the guard acknowledged them with a slight nod. Inside, the space was pristine, filled with vibrant flowers that welcomed the girls. These floral arrangements were often gifts from appreciative clients. She picked up a bouquet of elegantly arranged purple and white blooms. Taylor paused to inhale their fragrance, then mischievously plucked two petals and popped them into her mouth, much to her friend's surprise.
"Violets and daisies are perfectly edible," Taylor declared with a self-satisfied grin. "I bet I could whip up some great macarons with these; they're quite sweet."
"I'm at a loss for words, so I'll just keep quiet," Sayaka replied, shaking her head in disbelief. "But I must admit, I'm intrigued."
They strolled through the well-known hallways, exchanging friendly nods and greetings with a few colleagues along the way, before making their way to the changing rooms. Taylor approached her locker, where her bartender uniforms were neatly stored, and selected an outfit before heading to one of the nearby changing areas, her bouquet in hand.
"Catch you later," Sayaka said behind her before heading off to get ready for the evening.
Inside the changing room, Taylor slipped into her light grey pants and a fitted black shirt, the fabric soft against her skin. She deftly styled her hair into a tidy chignon, securing it with a vibrant red ribbon that added a pop of color. Next, she donned her red gilet, the tailored fit accentuating her figure, and finished the look with a striking purple necktie that hung elegantly around her neck. This outfit was the signature attire of the establishment, and she was well aware of the high standards the managers upheld regarding employee appearance. Taking a moment, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing down her collar with a satisfied nod before stepping out, ready to embrace the evening ahead.
As she stepped outside, she carefully placed her everyday clothes into her locker, alongside the bouquet of flowers she had taken. The thought crossed her mind that if she had the chance, she would definitely take the remaining blooms with her before heading home that evening. After all, there was a good chance the clients would bring new ones tonight, especially on a friday.
Taylor glanced at her watch, noticing that the small needle had ticked forward. The teleportation Key was definitely recharging more quickly than it had in the past, which was a promising sign for their adventures as parahumans. Although Taylor hadn't yet made plans to don her costume, she considered the possibility of trying it out for fun in the coming days. After all, becoming a cape had been a long-held dream of hers, and it seemed a shame to miss out on the chance, especially since she was connected to some of the most talented tinkers in the world.
As Taylor pondered her thoughts, she was approached by two figures. Lifting her gaze, she recognized the woman standing before her. Ando Hanako, the manager of the Peony Lantern, had unmistakable Japanese heritage, characterized by her sleek black hair and striking facial features. Though in her forties, she had aged gracefully, maintaining a fit physique that was essential in their line of work. Dressed in an elegant red gown, she embodied the essence of an underworld madame.
"Good evening, Alice," the older woman greeted, her voice a blend of warmth and authority.
"Good evening, Hanako," Taylor replied, offering a respectful bow.
"Tonight will be quite hectic for me with an unexpected meeting," the manager stated, glancing at the young woman beside her. "Can you assist Helen in preparing for the evening?"
Taylor observed the new hostess, who appeared a bit anxious under the gaze of the younger girl. Helen, a charming blonde, was dressed in a respectable evening gown, yet it was clear to Taylor that her hairstyle and makeup left much to be desired, certainly not meeting the high expectations set by the meticulous manager.
"Just simple aesthetic adjustments?" the bartender asked as she turned back her attention to the gerant.
"Yes, and be sure to take your post before six thirty; it's going to be a busy night," Hanako remarked, her tone serious.
"Of course," Taylor answered with a dismissive tone. "I am efficiency incarnate."
The manager turned to the new employee, her expression serious. "Ignore her nonsensical chatter; focus solely on her advice about appearance."
Helen nodded, her confusion evident as she exchanged glances with Taylor, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "Alright then. Let's begin."
The blonde cast a quick look at Hanako, who nodded in agreement, and then she followed Taylor into a nearby room. Once inside, the bartender pointed to a chair next to a dressing table. Understanding the unspoken instruction, the new girl took a seat in front of the mirror.
In that moment, Taylor recognized the need to hand over responsibilities to someone better suited for the tasks ahead. While she could manage adequately, she knew she couldn't match the speed of the self-proclaimed "big sister" of the Vill-Vs. With that realization, she willingly ceded control of her body to the Conductor, who had already made her presence known with a subtle whisper in Taylor's mind.
Alice stood behind the slender blonde, tilting her head thoughtfully with her hand resting on her chin, as she scrutinized the reflection of her charge, who appeared uneasy beneath her gaze.
She was the Conductor, an alter ego intertwined with Taylor, forming a part of the entity known as Vill-V. Earlier, she had been busy fine-tuning their costume after their recent escapade as a villain, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the events of Taylor's evening from the small dimension they inhabited when not in control of the body.
"I'm Alice, a bartender here, but I also take on the role of stylist for the girls before my shift begins," she said with a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise?" the new girl replied, her voice polite but uncertain.
"Is this your first experience in a place like this?" Alice inquired, starting to circle around her.
"Yes, I'm feeling a bit anxious," Helen confessed.
"They'll gradually help you settle in," Alice reassured her, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she lifted Helen's chin, examining her features closely. "If you made it through their selection process, you should be capable enough."
The new hostess's eyes widened slightly at the bold gesture, but she allowed Alice to guide her, her gaze shifting to the side. "Thank you. Is my appearance not enough?"
The Conductor sensed Taylor's indignation simmering within her as she scrutinized the girl. The artist was the wellspring of numerous quirks that those around them observed, and she intentionally nurtured that aspect for her own entertainment, delighting in the chef's furious tirades.
"Acceptable for the mundane, yet inadequate for this place," Alice remarked, gliding toward a nearby dresser to retrieve a few essentials from a drawer. "Hanako has high standards." Alice gracefully positioned herself behind Helen, her fingers weaving through the strands of hair with a delicate touch, before she inquired, "Would you be open to me adjusting your hair a bit?"
With a moment's hesitation, Helen finally shook her head, allowing Alice to take charge. For the next fifteen minutes, Alice immersed herself in the delicate art of hairstyling and makeup application, her hands moving with practiced grace. Occasionally, she paused, contemplating the overall look she aimed to achieve. Each stroke of her brush and twist of hair was executed with precision, and as the final touches were applied, the new hostess caught her reflection in the mirror. A smile blossomed on her face, a spark of confidence igniting within her as she admired the transformation.
"Perfect. That's the expression I want to see!" Alice exclaimed, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.
The young woman turned to her stylist briefly, then returned her gaze to the mirror, captivated by the reflection before her.
"You might want to try a warmer shade for your foundation," Alice suggested, her scissors snipping away as she spoke. "A vibrant and lively appearance suits you more."
"I can see that now," Helen replied, studying her reflection with newfound appreciation. "I never realized I could look like this. You're incredibly talented, even if you seem quite young."
"I'm sixteen," the Conductor replied, tidying up her tools and mentally calculating. Sixteen thousand years, maybe? If one only considered the time she had been truly active.
"Seriously?" the girl exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment. "How is it that you're allowed to work here?"
"We're bending the rules of child labor just a bit. No one's really going to scrutinize it, and I'm perfectly satisfied with my arrangement, so they can just get lost."
"I see."
At that precise moment, a soft knocking echoed through the door.
"You can come in," Alice called out, her hands still busy arranging the room.
Hanako stepped inside, her determination evident as she swiftly crossed the distance to commence her examination.
"Your payment from last week has been successfully deposited into your account this morning. You reviews have been excellent," the manager remarked, positioning herself behind Helen, her gaze fixed on the blonde with a satisfied smile. Alice was acutely aware that her employer was scrutinizing for any discrepancies or anything that fell short of her expectations.
"I noticed, thank you," the Conductor replied with a subtle bow. "I am committed to providing the best service possible."
The middle-aged woman arched an eyebrow, a sigh escaping her lips. "You do good work," she remarked, shifting her focus back to her new employee. "This will suffice. She didn't do anything peculiar, like nibbling on those flowers she placed in your hair, did she?"
"Did you catch that?" Alice inquired, her hand playfully covering her mouth in a mock display of embarrassment.
"Sayaka mentioned it," Hanako replied, her expression as stoic as ever. "Are you willing to assist during today's meeting?"
The Conductor stifled a grin, sensing Taylor's anxious energy buzzing in her mind. It was a significant show of trust from the usually stern woman. How could she turn down such an opportunity? "I guess so? What exactly does that involve?"
"You'll need to be in the meeting room and prepare some orders," the manager instructed, motioning for the blonde to rise. "It shouldn't take long."
"Alright," Alice conceded with a nod, all the while delighting in Taylor's indignant pushes within her mind.
With a sense of satisfaction from the bartender's responses, Hanako pivoted to face Helen. "Come with me; I'll introduce you to your colleagues," she instructed, stepping out of the room with the expectation that the blonde would follow closely behind.
Helen cast a final glance back at Alice, who waved cheerfully in farewell, before the two women vanished down the corridor, leaving the Conductor alone in the changing room. She approached the nearby sink, intent on washing her hands thoroughly while gazing into the small mirror perched above the faucet.
Taylor would need to face the repercussions of her actions, wouldn't she? It was her solemn responsibility as the older sister to impart valuable life lessons. After all, people couldn't trust themselves anymore these days, could they? How disheartening.
She let out a playful villainess laugh in the expansive mirror before retreating into their shared mental space, allowing Taylor to regain control once more.
"This old little…" Taylor whispered, gritting her teeth.
The Conductor had a knack for placing her in uncomfortable predicaments, and to her dismay, some of her peers, like the Magician, often cheered her on, while others remained indifferent. It was a source of frustration, yet the artist was frequently, if not always, correct in her approach.
With a heavy heart, the young woman stepped out of the room, embarking on the brief journey to the cocktail bar where she would be working that evening. She strolled, her hand resting beneath her chin, the other propping it up, as she glided through the familiar establishment, attempting to recall the information she had gathered after her blunder.
Despite the undeniable truth, she was likely the catalyst for the evening's events. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would be embroiled in the fallout of her minor mishap. As she pondered her next move, she veered into a different hallway and stumbled upon an unusual scene. A man clad in a black costume, complete with a Japanese demon mask, loomed in the corridor. Taylor's gaze was drawn to the assortment of weapons adorning his outfit, and she knew that this infamous villain was not one to shy away from using them.
"Is your name Alice?" the villain inquired, his tone flat and unyielding. The girl nodded in silence, and he went on, "The great Lung will be attending tonight's gathering; it is set to commence at nine."
Curse you, Conductor! Taylor fought to maintain her calm in the presence of the notorious murderer. They truly went above and beyond with their intimidation tactics, didn't they?
"I'll ensure everything is prepared on time," the bartender replied with a courteous demeanor. "I'm always here to accommodate."
The masked figure gave a curt nod, then pivoted on his heel and ascended the staircase that led to the upper management area of the establishment. Deep down, she had often speculated whether some of the notorious figures in the area were, in fact, patrons of this very venue, and it seemed entirely plausible. Perhaps even a few capes from the Empire had wandered through this district, as she suspected that many of them were simply putting on a façade.
With a determined stride, Taylor pressed onward toward the main room, taking a moment to smooth out her outfit, ensuring every detail was just right before she reached for the door that would lead her into the bustling clientele.
"Fine then, let's dive into this," she declared, her voice steady, ready to embrace the challenges that awaited her.
Taylor stood behind her bar, situated at the edge of the bustling main room of the club, meticulously ensuring that every item was precisely where it belonged and that all supplies had been replenished correctly, her keen eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced vigilance. As always, her attention to detail in organizing her tools was inflexible, and the other voices in her mind frequently used this fact to vex her.
She leaned back on the counter and cast a quick look at her male coworker, who was diligently polishing glasses while keeping an eye on the few early customers.
Spoiler: Taylor - AI generated image
At this hour, only a small number of patrons had settled into the plush banquettes that lined the interior, accompanied by their familiar hostesses. The bar officially opened at six in the evening, yet it typically remained quiet until around seven, when the majority of office workers wrapped up their nine-to-six shifts and sought a place to unwind.
"I heard you're supposed to go to the meeting upstairs," the man in the bartender suit remarked as he turned to face her.
"It appears so," Taylor confirmed, her hands busy inspecting the baskets of fruit arranged neatly on the counter. "Any tips?"
"Not really. Just stick to your usual routine and don't get too caught up in the discussion," he said with a casual shrug. "They might even suggest you wear headphones, but I doubt today's topic is particularly sensitive. It's about that illness incident at the school from about a month ago, right?"
"Very likely," the young woman acknowledged. "Honestly, I had completely forgotten about that event."
"The justice system is notoriously slow, and they must have taken their time with the expert opinions," he said, tossing a towel over his shoulder. "But you know how it is around here; people will seize any chance to file a lawsuit and make some money."
A hush fell over them as they noticed a couple of patrons walk in, prompting Taylor to reflect on her memories of Winslow High. As the initial requests began to flow in, Taylor immersed herself in her tasks, her mind drifting back to that fateful day when she had stealthily entered the high school for trivial motives.
It wasn't her fault that a careless worker put the wrong label on the pipe, leading her to mistakenly add her solution to the general water supply instead of just feeding the gymnasium. The mixture had been intended to be directed only to the showers to cause temporary sickness, but it had ended up reaching the cafeteria as well.
She resolved to exercise greater caution in the future; however, that girl would be barred from entering any local competitions until she graduated high school. A mischievous chuckle escaped her lips.
"Is there a problem?" her colleague inquired, arching an eyebrow as he studied her.
"Nothing. I was just contemplating the fate of that snitch Sayaka," Taylor remarked, deftly juggling a mortar before she crushed mint with exaggerated frustration.
"You've done it again, haven't you?" the male mixologist stated flatly.
"She munched on flowers in the locker room," one of the waitresses remarked nonchalantly while attaching an order to the board. "It's the talk of the town among the girls."
"Why does it matter to you?" Taylor replied, her expression unchanging. "And they were completely safe to eat, thank you very much. Care for a taste?"
"I'll pass," both of the workers said in unison.
As the minutes passed, the venue gradually filled with patrons, creating an energetic ambiance. A few guests settled onto the stools at the counter where Taylor was skillfully crafting her cocktails. She entertained them with playful tricks, juggling bottles and twirling her tools with finesse. Let it not be said that the Magician was the only performer of the family.
As the evening progressed, a youthful hostess gracefully approached the central podium, taking her place at the piano, signaling the commencement of the day's inaugural performance. For Taylor, this realm had been a bewildering experience at first, one that had caught her off guard upon her entry, particularly when the Conductor had abruptly compelled her into it. Until that moment, she had been utterly unaware of the events unfolding within, despite the district's renowned reputation.
The seamless integration of this facet of Japanese culture into the town was both astonishing and unsettling. It was remarkable how swiftly even those outside the Asian community had embraced it. The district had transformed into a vibrant hub, drawing countless tourists eager to experience the town's unique offerings, in addition to its notorious cape activities. This influx of visitors had turned their spending into a vital source of revenue for the district, further solidifying its place in the town's identity.
The Peony Lantern stood out as a popular and respectable establishment, much like others along the main thoroughfare. In contrast, there were more questionable venues tucked away in the less traveled streets, and she had seen enough of those to know she preferred to keep her distance. For now.
A flicker of recognition caught her attention, drawing her gaze to a corner of the club. There sat Mr. Hebert, his presence accompanied by a colleague, both settling into their usual spot with an air of comfort. She couldn't help but feel a pang of anger for the man, knowing he would once again part with a small fortune in this establishment, a place she now knew he had frequented for years. With a practiced indifference, she chose to overlook the scene, pushing aside the simmering resentment that threatened to surface. A fleeting twinge brushed against her consciousness, but she dismissed it with a barely noticeable shake of her head.
It's fine, Evil.
Time slipped away, and before long, she found it was time to make her way to the secluded room designated for the meeting. Exiting the main hall, she ascended the staircase that led to the mezzanine, which offered a view of the bustling ground floor. After a brief nod from the guard, she was granted entry.
The space was expansive, adorned with elegant touches that reflected a contemporary Japanese aesthetic. Taylor navigated through the area, pausing at the clear window that offered a panoramic view of the entire club. This marked her second visit, and she had chosen to arrive a bit earlier to acclimate herself to the surroundings.
The bar was meticulously organized, allowing her to simply rearrange a few items to suit her taste while setting aside others. Being part of a venue with skilled management proved to be a distinct advantage.
Shortly thereafter, the initial attendees of the meeting entered the room, while Taylor focused on arranging a selection of side dishes to complement the drinks.
Ishida Mamoru was a man of distinction, in his late forties, embodying a blend of elegance and authority. He wore a tailored black suit, complemented by a rich brown necktie that hinted at his refined taste. His hair, touched with gray, was meticulously styled, framing a face that radiated warmth and approachability, a stark contrast to the intimidating presence one might expect from a figure of his stature.
As a prominent member of the ABB, he had navigated the treacherous waters of Brockton Bay's underworld with skill and cunning. His experience as an adviser to various notorious villains had not only kept him alive but had also earned him a reputation as a savvy strategist.
Trailing closely behind him was another infamous character. While the silver-haired man maintained a more subdued presence compared to the gang's more volatile parahumans, tales of his exploits continued to circulate among the locals. The robust figure was clad in a striking red traditional Chinese outfit, complemented by black trousers beneath, and he carried himself with an air of dignity, his posture straight and hands clasped behind his back.
As they strode past the young girl, diligently slicing cucumber with precision, the cape cast a fleeting glance her way through his small, round sunglasses. The dark cloth mask obscured the lower half of his face, leaving Taylor unable to decipher his expression. In response, she offered a respectful bow, a silent acknowledgment of their presence.
As they made their way toward the expansive one-way windows, the bartender noticed the two figures had their eyes fixed on a specific table.
"Do you suspect the new nurse is an informant for the Yangban?" the man clad in red inquired in Japanese, his tone devoid of emotion.
"It's quite possible," Ishida replied, casually slipping his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight onto one leg. "The indicators are present."
"Is your son prepared for this?"
"We must allow the younger generation to shoulder some responsibility; we're not as young as we used to be, Li."
They lingered for a moment, the man in the tailored suit eventually turning to settle into one of the plush couches, crossing his legs as he lit a small cigar. The other man approached the young girl, who was diligently attending to her duties while observing the unfolding scene, and halted before her, maintaining a martial posture.
"The sight of you here is a first for me," the man remarked in Mandarin. "You understand our words."
"Yes," Taylor confessed in the same tongue, her heart racing as she tried to maintain her composure.
In a life that preceded this one, Looking Down upon the Stars had developed a fascination with eastern medicine and alchemy, immersing herself in its teachings to grasp even the most enigmatic scrolls that "Merlin" had retrieved. Consequently, she had acquired a multitude of languages, much like the majority of the Vill-Vs.
"What languages do you speak?" Li asked, towering over her with an imposing presence.
Taylor felt the intensity of his sharp gaze scrutinizing her through the dark lenses of his glasses. "English, French, Mandarin, and Japanese," she replied, carefully sidestepping the complete truth.
"Quite impressive for someone your age," the parahuman remarked with a nod. "What brings you to this place?"
"I'm still a student," Taylor said, wiping her knife clean before returning it to its wooden holder. "We all need to earn a little."
"Indeed," the man acknowledged, a hint of amusement flickering across his features. "A manhattan for Mr. Ishida, if you would."
"Understood," she replied with a slight bow.
With a deft touch, the young girl skillfully blended the drink, her hands moving with an ease that spoke of years of practice. She artfully arranged a side dish of finely chopped radishes, delicately drizzling them with mirin and a whisper of seasoning. Balancing the plate on her arm, she glided across the room, her movements fluid and poised as she approached the mafia leader. With a subtle smile gracing her lips, she placed the order before him, embodying the grace and discretion that her role demanded, a quiet confidence radiating from her demeanor.
The teachings of the Magician resonated deeply in her thoughts.
Posture aligned, gaze steady yet humble.
One step, two steps.
With the tray tucked securely under her arm, she returned to her station, and as she pivoted to survey the room anew, she noticed the man had already raised the glass to his lips, savoring a sip before offering a contented nod of approval.
"I can see that Hanako still has an eye for talent," Ishida Mamoru remarked, casting a brief look in her direction.
In acknowledgment of the silent praise, Taylor bowed slightly, her gaze lingering on the man as he nonchalantly sampled the vegetables before him. The atmosphere thickened with silence until the door creaked open, announcing the arrival of another figure.
Lung strode into the room, clad in his usual attire—or rather, the absence of it. Dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans and an elaborate metallic dragon mask obscuring his features, the tattooed man made his entrance with a heavy thud as he sank into one of the plush armchairs encircling the central table.
"You found one?" he inquired, his voice gruff.
"I'll handle it," Li replied coolly, not bothering to turn his attention to the brute. "This is not your concern."
"I know you despise them more than I do, old man," Lung retorted, a hint of defiance in his tone. "But I still need to make an example every now and then."
"Is that so?" the elder parahuman mused, casting a sidelong glance at Taylor, who stood patiently at the periphery. "We'll address this issue later."
Lung let out a low, throaty sound before declaring, "One old-fashioned. Cold. Very Cold."
The young woman watched the interaction with keen interest. It was a rare opportunity to witness the dynamics among such infamous criminals. Despite having spent weeks in this establishment, diligently following the rules and striving to earn her employer's confidence, she found the scene bewildering. She hadn't anticipated the situation escalating to this point; it had all felt so instinctive to her, as if she had merely followed her inclinations without prying too deeply.
Taylor acknowledged the order with a smile, her hands moving instinctively to begin her work. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined sharing a space with such notorious killers, let alone crafting their cocktails. They were the architects of chaos in this town, and yet she stood there, embodying a serene composure, a testament to her training and the influence of her alter ego. As a child, she had always envisioned herself as a hero, yet here she was, serving villains with warmth and hospitality. But deep down, Taylor knew…
She could bestow upon him a serene, tranquil, and exquisite release.
It would be a mere whisper of a task.
With a delicate flick of her wrist, she could let her potion cascade into the chalice.
The dragon would remain blissfully unaware, for each of her elixirs sang with the sweetness of ambrosia and the richness of flavor.
Then, later on this eve, he would gently surrender to slumber, ensnared in an eternal reverie of felicity.
The sinner would shed this chaotic vessel, his torment would cease, and all his transgressions would be washed away.
What response would his power conjure in the face of this?
Would it even perceive Thanatos7 as a looming shadow?
Could it traverse the depths of the Idea nestled within his brain?
Might her flavor meander through the brook and embrace the Sea's depths?
Would it seep into the very fabric of his Space?
So many Questions.
Taylor felt a calmness wash over her as she realized her hands had paused, a subtle smile playing at the corners of her lips. Taking a steadying breath, she returned to the task of crafting the drink for the villain, meticulously measuring the bitter component. She filled the glass with ice, slicing delicate, star-shaped orange peel pieces to enhance the presentation before pouring in the whiskey and rye. To complete the cocktail, she added a cherry, ensuring it was the perfect finishing touch.
The bartender presented the bare-chested antagonist with a frosty cocktail, accompanied by a petite bowl of marinated cucumbers and a thin straw. True to form, she strove to uphold her persona, ensuring her demeanor remained discreet and professional. Attracting attention was not in her favor; the Conductor had already drawn enough eyes her way, and she was not keen on inviting further complications into her already peculiar existence.
Eventually, the opposing faction of the meeting entered the room, revealing several more recognizable faces, while Li remained steadfast and kept his vigil, surveying the ground floor through the window.
The mayor of Brockton Bay, Roy Christner, strode into the room with a confident air, his tailored suit complemented by a large, cozy jacket that suggested both authority and warmth. Following closely behind him, a town official struggled under the weight of a hefty stack of files. The two men settled onto a plush sofa, their eyes locking onto Ishida, who lounged carelessly, a cigar dangling from his lips, exuding an aura of nonchalance that contrasted sharply with the gravity of the meeting.
Behind them, Principal Blackwell entered the room, her presence a stark contrast to the confident mayor. The slender woman with the bowl haircut appeared uncertain, her posture betraying a hint of discomfort. She lingered in the middle of the area for a moment, hesitating before finally settling into an armchair adjacent to Lung. His piercing gaze bore into her, and she instinctively averted her eyes, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.
Amusement flickered in Taylor's eyes as she witnessed the unfolding scene. Perhaps her blunder was not as detrimental as she initially thought, especially if it meant putting that useless principal in a precarious position. She caught sight of the woman's body language shift, a subtle tension radiating from her as the changer reached for his glass, lifting it to his lips to sip through the slender straw that could go in the small hole in his mask.
The two newly arrived men placed an order and Taylor began to craft the drinks, all the while keenly observing the dynamics unfolding around her. In her line of work, it was no secret that the influential figures of the town often mingled with the criminal underbelly, whether it be the ABB or the Empire. She had learned a few notorious names, always careful to steer clear of their paths, especially the hired killers.
Her peaceful life was definitely over. Thank you, Conductor.
"Interest rates were raised once again, weren't they?" Ishida inquired as Taylor delivered the orders from the town representatives. "The rampant money printing following both Madison and Canberra sure made a mess."
"Indeed, you're well aware, and it's always more challenging for us," the Mayor remarked, savoring the taste of his cocktail. "The mayoral elections are just around the corner."
"Those pests always retreat when I turn up the heat a notch," Lung replied with a wave of his hand.
"They're all scrambling to uncover some weakness to exploit," Roy Chrisner commented while swirling his drink. "But they have no clue what I have to deal with. If I could, I would give the position to them and go take a long holiday on some tropical island, but it would set this city on fire."
"Absolutely," Ishida Mamoru remarked, shifting his gaze to the blonde woman. "What about the incident involving Winslow and the widespread illness?"
"We terminated our agreement with the outside contractor responsible for maintenance after they hiked their fees due to ongoing vandalism, and now the parents are claiming we failed to comply with the regulations," Principal Blackwell explained. "Of course, we never did comply, as we've never had sufficient funds to carry out the necessary work."
"Honestly, it's the same for us. They allow their children to wreak havoc and then wail when I inform them that the town's funds for the docks have run dry," the mayor remarked, reclining comfortably on the couch. "We could really use one of your specialists for this situation."
Lung let out a deep, rumbling chuckle that resembled a growl. "Ah, Americans…" the dragonman mused, draining the last of his drink in one swift motion. "In Japan, we have those ungrateful curs scrub the school's toilets."
Out of the corner of her eye, Taylor caught sight of sudden commotion on the ground floor, prompting everyone in the room to shift their focus toward the disturbance.
"Indeed, you were correct," Li proclaimed, a note of triumph lacing his tone. "We have him."
A sudden shift in the air caught Taylor's attention as she peered out the window, her heart racing at the sight unfolding before her. A flamboyant figure burst into the hall, clad in a reimagined biker ensemble and complete with an absurdly oversized pompadour, drawing the gaze of everyone present. Meanwhile, a towering guard, akin to a sumo fighter, was mercilessly stomping on a man sprawled helplessly on the floor. This evening, she had encountered the four capes of the ABB and managed to escape unscathed. Hurray.
In the midst of the unfolding chaos, Taylor's eyes fell upon Sayaka, who was cradling her arm with a pained expression. A surge of anxiety coursed through Taylor as she spotted the crimson stain marring Sayaka's dress, her heart racing at the sight. For a moment, her gaze lingered, perhaps a fraction too long, drawing the attention of Li, who observed the matter with keen interest.
"Do you recognize her?" the man in the chinese outfit inquired in Mandarin.
"She's a dear friend," Taylor replied in the same language, regaining her composure.
"I understand," he said, his attention drifting back to the window. "It likely isn't too serious."
As the chaos gradually subsided, a sense of tranquility returned to the ground floor, and the majority of patrons appeared unfazed by the earlier violence. In fact, a few adventurous tourists attempted to capture the moment with their cameras, only to be swiftly intercepted by vigilant staff members.
"Shall we return to the pressing issues before us?" the Mayor suggested, raising his glass. "Another round, if you would," he added, and Lung lifted his drink as well.
"We're always willing to find a solution or propose exchanges that would serve both sides," Ishida replied, casually draping his arm over the back of the sofa. "Our doors are always open to ideas."
The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Docks as Triumph embarked on his inaugural patrol as a protectorate member, partnered with Assault. They strolled along the bustling street, Triumph's white costume unchanged from his days as a ward, complete with the distinctive lion helmet and shoulder pads. Rory Christner, a formidable presence, was a former football player who still carried the impressive physique from his athletic career.
Starting from the Boardwalk, they made their way toward the northwest of the district. As they ventured deeper, the walls were splashed with vibrant graffiti, a stark contrast to the well-kept roads of the city's affluent neighborhoods. They approached an open basketball court where a group of children played. Spotting Triumph, they pointed and exchanged whispers, their reaction markedly different from the admiration he often received in Downtown or along the Boardwalk. Assault waved at them with a smile before they continued on toward a larger street.
As was typical for weekends, the daytime patrols primarily consisted of heroes interacting with the civilians; even the villains recognized that these were the most profitable days of the week, and more often than not, the incidents involved only minor disputes or petty thefts.
As they continued their patrol, the two heroes found themselves in a lively exchange with passersby and tourists, who seemed to multiply as they approached the shoreline. Assault had a remarkable talent for striking up conversations with the locals, a charm that many of his more serious counterparts often lacked. Perhaps that was the reason the director had chosen to pair him with Triumph for his initial patrols in this area.
They paused for a moment after an hour of patrolling, finding a bench that overlooked the sea. Triumph lifted a bottle of water to his mask, savoring the refreshing taste of the water through the straw, when a notification chimed from his Protectorate phone. Curious, he pulled it from his pocket to see what the message was.
Clocksy: You're patrolling with Assault right? Check this! Link
Me: What's is it?
Clocksy: Just click. It's not a joke.
Rory had learned through countless dealings with the red-haired boy that complete trust was a luxury he could not afford with such matters, so he silenced his phone before daring to click the link.
■
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■
♦ Topic: Episode 1 of the Great Magician Vill-V
In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay Discussion
Vill-V (Original Poster) (Verified Cape)
Posted On Apr 2nd 2011:
Dear audience,
I am delighted to unveil the inaugural episode of my escapades.
It is my sincere hope that you find as much joy in my creations as I experienced in producing them.
Link
Please like and subscribe!
Have a wonderful day!
(Showing page 1 of 16)
►ShiningGlasses
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
While we knew more of less what happened inside that shop, it's good that we can finally have a full version.
It's nice that she had other viewpoints than her PoV camera, though it makes for cool edits.
But the rest? It makes everything perfect. My brain is infected.
►GreyRaccoon
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
She actually made an opening for this.
I can't fucking get it out of my head. It's so catchy.
►TiamatZero
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
If you look at the credits, it's all her.
Music, singing, editing, etc...
Holy shit, she's an idol villain
We're doomed.
►BrocktonGosu
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
I know that I'm a stupid weeb but the japanese version of the opening is so much better. You can find it in her channel.
And her pronunciation is top-notch lol
Love it.
►Dust2 (Veteran Member)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
We're just talking about the song, not the fight, haha.
It's true that the whole thing was short; they mostly just tossed jokes back and forth for a while.
Dauntless really got his weapons stolen? That's harsh.
►White Fairy (Veteran Member)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Can we talk about how you're all encouraging a villain?
She's a damn robbed a store for heaven's sake.
Stop praising her.
►OrangeMoonkin
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
I know she robbed the store I was working in but...
Here I am hoping that she will make more songs. Brockton bay will have its own idol? Concert when?
►Bagrat (The Guy in the Know) (Veteran Member)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Looks like we've got the full scoop now.
It seemed like she was just messing around, but Vill-V actually took more than just some items from the shop.
Did she really swipe Dauntless's shield and lance? Is she planning to return them? That's a pretty big deal.
Have we heard anything from her about this?
And that song is a cancer.
►Char
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Thank you, Vill-V.
Now all my kids are singing it and it's the week-end.
The lyrics are a bit disturbing, though?
End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 14, 15, 16
(Showing page 2 of 16)
►Kappa Katsu
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
I died at the end of the opening when she said the sponsor phrase in japanese like in fansubbed anime with the Pixel World and PRT logos.
"Kono bangumi wa goran no suponsaa no teikyou de okurishimasu"
I even said at the same time as a stupid weeb reflex.
> Char
She's roleplaying a villain so the lyrics make sense.
►Laser Augment
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Can she even use the lance and shield?
I don't really know how Dauntless stuff works.
Well, I doubt they would make it public if they did.
That's actually kind of bad?
►AllSeeingEye (Verified Psychic) (The Girl in the Know)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Damn, she works fast.
Her version is way better and higher quality than what I have.
Honestly, I might skip posting mine because hers is just that good.
Now I have to kill someone or at least destroy his speakers. BRB.
►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
... Why? Just why?
Can I switch sides for a week or two? I even have lightsticks!
►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Shut up Clockblocker.
AND STOP THAT SONG I'M TRYING TO DO MY HOMEWORK.
►CoffeeManiac (Veteran Member)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
> Clockblocker & Vista
Did you have news of VIll-V?
Will she give back the weapons?
►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Not that I know?
I don't even think Dauntless got in touch with her. I mean, we can message her on PHO, right?
The only thing I have heard is that wards might be able to engage her next time.
And I will be ready, you can count on it.
►Newter (Verified Cape)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
LOL
I will put that song tonight in the club!
Is there a longer version?
►RozaRoza (Verified Cape) (Wards WA)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Oi you!
What do you think you're doing?
Don't sully the name of idols you villain!
►Leet (Verified Cape)
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
> Vill-V
Do you take commissions?
We tried to do something like this with Uber once but it didn't work out that well.
Yours is just perfect. I bow before your supremacy.
►Hanabi
Replied On Apr 2nd 2011:
Waaah so cool! I totally dig it!
I'll be cheering you on!
End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 14, 15, 16
■
He skimmed through the initial pages, his interest piqued by the description of the video. Although he had glimpsed parts of the confrontation with the new villainess via the heroes' body camera footage, much of it had been clouded by chaos during the battle, rendering the visuals murky.
"Clockblocker shared this link with me," Triumph said, turning to his partner, who was lounging comfortably on the bench. "It seems to be a video of your encounter with Vill-V."
"Oh! I don't really mind it, to be honest," he replied with a light laugh.
"Everyone seems to be buzzing about her musical opening," the teenager remarked, his fingers dancing across the screen of his phone. "And how she managed to swipe Dauntless's gear."
"Musical opening?"
Assault leaned in closer to his colleague as they both settled in to watch the ten-minute video. The opening was undeniably catchy, showcasing a sequence that intertwined dark scenes with striking white silhouettes in various scenarios, culminating in her inscribing "world domination" into the emptiness.
Following that, the event in the video game store was captured from various angles, showcasing impressive clarity and expert editing. It concluded with her speeding away on a sleek brown motorcycle, flashing a V sign at the camera.
"That girl is crazy, in a fun way," Assault said after the video had ended.
"Should you really be saying that?"
The red hero stroked his chin thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to his junior. "Would you prefer that she join one of the gangs and start dropping cars on our heads?"
Triumph hesitated, recalling the scene in the video where the thief had conjured a vehicle out of thin air within the store. "Point taken," he replied tersely.
"By experience, you should play along with those sort of comedy capes. They usually sandbag a lot," Assault remarked as he got up and stretched. "You should ask Militia about some of the stuff Mouse Protector did back in the day."
"Really?" the young hero replied, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Sure thing," the seasoned hero replied, motioning for him to come along. "Come, we'll go grab some coffee. The video just gave me a wonderful idea."
Triumph got up and followed his partner along the streets of the Docks, before he knew it, they were going closer to the entertainment district. The red hero was whistling to the tune of the song of the villainess while they walked, and some passersby even threw him amused glances, which he answered with a cheerful wave, seemingly not bothered at all.
The teenager strolled alongside his colleague, shaking his head in disbelief. He found himself baffled by the nonchalant demeanor of his temporary mentor, unsure of how he would respond to such a humiliating defeat at the hands of a cartoonish villain. He noticed that the other two also maintained their composure, even Dauntless, who had suffered the loss of his gear. Yet, there was something off about the man when their paths had crossed earlier that day; he seemed a bit dazed, as if the encounter had left him momentarily disoriented.
Soon enough, the duo found themselves in a vibrant street adorned with colorful decorations, a place the teenager recognized well, as it was among the most popular tourist attractions in the vicinity. Assault took a brief pause, tapping away on his phone to send a quick message, before he redirected his attention to his companion.
"Here we are!" he exclaimed, gesturing widely.
"Don't tell me..." the young hero asked, his surprise evident even behind his helmet.
"Oh, yes!" Assault replied, nodding enthusiastically. "You never came here? Not even out of curiosity?"
"Never," Triumph said, shaking his head. "I heard Clockblocker came here once with Kid Win just for fun."
"Some of these shops have amazing things," the red hero said as he continued walking toward their destination. "There's one that makes the best waffles. Don't worry, it will be my treat."
"Why the sudden interest in coming here?" Triumph inquired, letting out a sigh.
"Because I am going to answer the villainess in kind," Assault said, a playful grin on his face.
"What do you mean by that?" the teenager asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
The red hero resumed walking, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he moved ahead. Triumph trailed behind, shaking his head in bemusement. It was just Assault being himself, and he had learned not to question his partner's peculiar behavior too closely. His fellow heroes had suggested that he simply go along with it for the time being, especially if the requests weren't too far-fetched. It was a strategy that promised to keep his stress levels in check.
Triumph took in the lively scene around him, where groups of girls dressed in charming maid outfits waved at him with playful smiles, inviting him to explore the themed coffee shops lining the street. Each girl wore a unique outfit, showcasing an array of styles and colors. The atmosphere buzzed with energy as passersby strolled along the sidewalk, stopping to chat with the girls or to snap photos.
As they wandered through the vibrant road, Assault suddenly veered off and stepped into a nearby shop, catching Triumph's attention. He glanced up to read the stylish sign hanging above the entrance. It was the Nyan Café, and the two promotional girls flanking the doorway were adorned with playful cat ears and tails, complementing their maid costumes. Noticing that Triumph had paused at the threshold, Assault held the door open and gestured for his partner to join him with a subtle nod of his head.
With a steadying breath, Triumph acquiesced to the request and stepped inside the building.
The café's interior was surprisingly inviting, radiating a comforting and homely vibe. The furnishings, crafted from simple wood, created a rustic charm, while numerous shelves adorned with quirky figurines and colorful comics decorated the walls. Behind the counter, a prominent sign reading "Nyan Café" caught the eye, accompanied by an array of playful panels displaying cheerful phrases such as "Paw-sitivity," "Purr-fect," and "Meow-sic," adding to the whimsical atmosphere.
Upon their entrance into the café, a maid approached them with a friendly demeanor. She had long black hair styled in two playful ponytails and greeted them with a polite gesture, her hands clasped together in front of her. With a graceful bow, she acknowledged the heroes, her bright blue eyes shifting between them as she adjusted her glasses.
Spoiler: Alice the catgirl maid
"Greetings, esteemed guests," the maid said, her voice warm and inviting. "How may I assist you today?"
"Alice? I thought you were done with this?" Assault inquired, curiosity lacing his tone.
"You must be mistaken, nyan," the girl responded, shaking her head lightly.
"Oh, maybe? A table for three then; a friend will join us shortly," the red hero replied with a casual shrug.
"Of course, master," Alice said with a gentle smile, bowing slightly before turning to lead the way. "Please, follow me, nyan."
Triumph observed the interaction with a mix of bewilderment and discomfort, wincing at the playful antics of the catgirl maid while noting how Assault seemed completely unfazed, as if the bizarre scene were just another ordinary day.
The heroes trailed behind the girl as she led them to a cozy table nestled in the café's corner, offering a panoramic view of the bustling establishment.
"What delights do you have for us today?" the red hero inquired as he settled into his seat.
"Today's special is a waffle topped with strawberry mousse and drizzled with chocolate," the maid replied, raising a finger in emphasis. "It comes highly recommended, nyan."
"Purrfect!" Assault exclaimed, his excitement palpable. "I'll have that, along with a cappuccino."
The maid then shifted her gaze to the lion hero, who responded tersely, having not considered his order beforehand. "Just a cappuccino for me."
"Certainly," the cat maid replied with a graceful bow. "We shall make every effort to deliver your order promptly." She then departed to place their order at the counter, while Triumph's gaze lingered on the swaying tail, momentarily entranced, until he shook off the distraction and turned his attention back to his friend.
"You really seem to know your way around here," Triumph remarked to his friend.
"I wasn't joking when I said they have some of the best treats in town," Assault replied, reclining comfortably in his chair. "Sure, it's a bit pricey, but I can't resist coming here every now and then."
"Is Battery aware of this?" the teenager asked in a low voice.
"We've even come here together a few times," the red hero said with a casual wave of his hand. "You should have tried a waffle; they're amazing."
"I'm trying to watch my calories."
The dessert certainly caught his eye, especially since he had noticed a few on the neighboring table, yet he was committed to his strict dietary regimen. After all, maintaining his superhero physique was a priority he intended to uphold for as long as he could.
"Your loss," Assault remarked, lifting his hands in a casual shrug.
"Do you know the waitress?"
"Somewhat," the crimson-clad hero responded, folding his arms. "Our guest knows her better."
"A guest?" Triumph queried, tilting his head in curiosity.
"There's someone I'd like you to be introduced to. She'll be here shortly."
After a few moments, the maid returned, balancing a plate that held a generous Belgian waffle, lavishly adorned with a delicate layer of strawberry cream and a drizzle of rich chocolate. Triumph could see wisps of steam rising from the dessert, its warmth inviting and tantalizing. The sweet aroma wafted through the air, stirring a hint of regret within him for his earlier decision, particularly since Assault was footing the bill.
Spoiler: The heroes in the café
Just then, a woman approached their table and, without a word, took a seat among them as the waitress set their order down.
"A double espresso, please," she stated with an air of authority. "And you."
Alice feigned surprise, her hand flying to her mouth in mock dismay. "As you wish, my lady," she replied, her voice dripping with exaggerated politeness.
The woman who had just joined them cast a sharp glance at the girl, her eyes narrowing in silent judgment. With a slight shake of her head, she conveyed her disapproval, a stern expression settling on her features. The girl, undeterred, turned on her heel and made her way back to fetch the steaming beverages.
"Triumph, allow me to introduce Detective Kiley Gordon," Assault declared once the maid had exited.
"Pleasure to meet you," the young hero said, extending his hand.
The policewoman, a woman of African descent, accepted the handshake. "Same here."
"I thought it would be good for you to meet the local law enforcement. Wards are somewhat discouraged from engaging too much with the ground forces for various reasons," Assault stated. "You're actually a known local, so I thought you would be interested to see another perspective about the town's affairs."
"Absolutely. I'd like that. It's true that we don't really get to see what's happening beneath the surface as wards." He was certainly one of the most improbable heroes to abandon the town, considering the situation with his family.
"Thanks for stooping to our level," the officer remarked with a playful tone.
"That's not what I mea..." Triumph tried explaining himself, taken aback.
"I'm just teasing," the woman replied, rolling her eyes.
Moments later, Alice reappeared, gracefully balancing a tray laden with the trio of coffees the group had requested. With practiced finesse, she placed a cup in front of each person, a subtle smile gracing her lips as she moved. After handing off a plate to a nearby maid, who offered a respectful bow, Alice turned back toward them.
"Would you like a touch of magic to enhance the flavor?" the girl asked with a warm voice.
"Not this time," the detective replied, shaking her head. "I have my limits."
"Oh, come on," Assault urged, his voice filled with pleading.
"Absolutely not," the woman insisted, and Triumph couldn't help but find himself siding with her.
The young hero caught a glimpse of the girl stifling a laugh, and as his gaze met hers, her playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a mask of composure. She's actually enjoying this, isn't she? Does she know I'm cringing behind my helmet?
Then she gracefully took a seat next to their table before offering a polite, "Please enjoy, nyan."
"Can't you just act normal for a minute? It gives me the creeps," the policewoman said with a mortified expression. "I know you don't like this job anyway."
"I like annoying you more than I hate it," the girl said with a gentle smile. "Also, I am always very professional during my jobs, nyan."
The detective exhaled a deep sigh before savoring her drink, which encouraged Triumph to follow suit. The young hero noticed that Assault had already dug into his waffle, savoring the mousse with a satisfied nod while observing them.
Hidden behind his helmet, Triumph took the opportunity to glance at the girl seated next to him, realizing she appeared quite youthful, perhaps even younger than himself. Her features were charming, and the minimal makeup she wore accentuated her natural beauty, giving her an inviting, girl-next-door aura that he found undeniably appealing.
As he refocused on the table, it dawned on him that his actions may not have been as subtle as he had assumed, for the detective's piercing amber gaze was locked onto him with intensity.
"Here's a little wisdom for you," the woman said, a playful glint in her eyes. "Always remember that appearances can be deceiving."
"I didn't mean to…" Triumph stammered, attempting to defend himself.
The policewoman raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Don't worry, she's aware of her charm."
"Master!" the girl exclaimed, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"But just so you're aware," the detective interjected, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "She sent three men to the hospital, one with a fractured skull."
"Seriously?"
"It was just that one time, dear master! Please forgive me, nyan!" the girl pleaded, covering her eyes with her hands. "I had no idea bricks could inflict such harm. They're terrifying!"
"You also shattered their knees with a steel pipe," Kiley remarked, her tone flat and factual.
"I wasn't thinking straight," the maid admitted, her gaze drifting to the side. "I just wanted to get home, nyan."
"She did that?" Triumph inquired, studying the slender girl with a furrowed brow.
"It was a matter of self-defense, albeit a bit over the top," the detective remarked, waving her hand dismissively. "Still, her case is a mere footnote. Just keep in mind that in this area, the most desperate individuals can take a life for as little as ten dollars. It's no wonder people feel the need to protect themselves."
She paused to savor her coffee before proceeding. "Our cells are full, and we lack funding. This is not due to a lack of requests, I assure you. Unfortunately, the town's administration often overlooks our appeals. As much as I regret it, we have to prioritize the worst cases. So there are many individuals that should be between four walls but instead are wandering the streets."
A chill coursed through Triumph as he sat there, grappling with the unexpected conversation unfolding before him. This morning had started like any other, but now, as the mayor's son, he was confronted with stark realities he had only heard whispers of—disparities in investment that were far more pronounced than he had imagined.
He had never ventured into this part of town, content in his own bubble where everything he needed was readily available. The friends he surrounded himself with had always warned him against exploring these streets; their patrols as wards were tightly controlled, and even when they provided backup, their presence was fleeting at best.
It's true that the teenager never took the opportunity to explore this area since the part he lived in had everything he needed. Most people in Rory's circle strongly discouraged him from exploring this area. Their patrols as wards were heavily monitored, and even when they came as backup, they didn't stick around for very long.
Triumph reflected on his dealings with Shadow Stalker and her unsettling propensity for violence. It dawned on him that she was maybe not an anomaly; rather, she was a product of her environment. Growing up amidst daily brutality, it was only natural for one to adapt, to normalize the chaos, and even to engage in it as a means of self-preservation.
"Always exercise caution when you come across someone in these parts, particularly since you're not exactly the toughest, unlike myself," Assault remarked between bites. "Especially after dark and particularly up north, close to the trainyard."
In truth, Triumph was aware that the docks were a troubled place, yet he had never truly considered the perspective of its residents. Although he felt a twinge of discomfort at the girl's casual dismissal and humor regarding her violent self-defense, it appeared to be a common attitude in this area, as evidenced by the reactions of both Assault and the detective.
"It's the civilians you need to watch out for here, not the parahumans," the policewoman remarked, her tone steady. "Yet it's odd how they'll throw you in front of the murder blender but won't let you glimpse a street worker in a bikini," the detective added, setting her cup down with a soft clink.
"The youth guard," Assault interjected, a hint of distaste coloring his voice. "Sometimes, it's wiser not to pry too deeply."
The thought had crossed Triumph's mind, naturally. It wasn't merely a matter of perception. The Empire capes were, in reality, far more unpredictable than the ABB's, showing no reluctance to resort to violence or confront the heroes.
Here, as the locals often say, sometimes it's best to let the dragon lie undisturbed. However, this did not prevent the police or PRT from frequently locating some of the victims of the asian gang, usually due to some internal affairs or debt.
"Can we discuss this in a public setting? And with Alice present? No offense intended, miss," the young hero inquired.
"Just keep your voice down, and we'll be alright. We won't delve into sensitive matters anyway," Assault replied with a casual shrug.
"As for Alice, she's already privy to all of that and more," the policewoman remarked after taking a sip of her coffee. "She's involved with the local mafia, after all."
"What?" Triumph exclaimed, taken aback, while the girl adjusted her glasses, casting him an amused sidelong glance.
"Who do you think is behind those operations?" Assault gestured with a circular motion of his finger.
The police officer exhaled softly, her gaze fixed on the teenager across from her. "I heard there was some noise at the Lantern last night. Do you know anything about it? You were on shift, right?"
"It was late, and I was pretty worn out. My memory's a bit hazy, nyan," Alice replied thoughtfully, her finger resting on her chin.
The officer let out a weary sigh and retrieved an envelope from her jacket's inner pocket. She slid it across the table to Alice, who quickly tucked it away.
"Is this a bribe?" Triumph asked, surprised.
"Yes," the officer replied matter-of-factly.
"Suspected Yangban mole in Brockton General," stated the girl.
"As expected."
"Seriously? Is that really meant to be a light topic?" the ex-ward exclaimed, taken aback by the revelation.
"It seems that way, dear Master," the girl said. "It's routine, nyan."
"It occurs frequently enough," the detective remarked with a nonchalant gesture. "They inundate the city with smaller players to allow the bigger threats to maneuver. The ABB has a strong aversion to them. We permit it to unfold because it serves the interests of everyone involved."
"That's just the way things are around here. You'll adapt," Assault asserted. "Naturally, the PRT agents maintain more consistent communication with the local police department, as they blend in far better than we do as heroes. But being aware of the undercurrents is always advantageous."
"It's not just about the dramatic confrontations. Many of us toil behind the scenes to manage the consequences. You may break up the brawls, but we are the ones who have to gather the remnants. Sometimes, it's a considerable amount."
"Human remnants," Alice interjected. "Chilling, nyan."
"Indeed," the detective replied flatly. "And Brockton General is perpetually overwhelmed. Our only opportunity to have a parahuman healer in the area vanished last year due to a bureaucratic blunder from your office. And no, I don't consider that girl from the Empire."
They engaged in a lengthy conversation about the intricacies of the Docks. Their dialogue delved into the ABB's grip on the territory and the crucial part played by the unpowered. With only four capes at their disposal, their choices were constrained, in stark contrast to the Empire's vast resources. Ultimately, they recognized that sheer firepower was not the sole determinant of success.
The conversation had captivated him, and Triumph grasped Mrs. Gordon's reasoning for including the girl in their dialogue. She was undoubtedly knowledgeable about the complexities of the docks, serving as a quintessential example of what one might encounter, despite her somewhat aloof demeanor and maid antics, perhaps intentionally sidestepping certain topics.
The corruption likely ran deeper than he had first assumed, prompting him to consider a conversation with his father, the Mayor. Prior to becoming a ward, he had been so absorbed in his football career that he had neglected much of the town's affairs, and his father had never made an effort to draw him into his world.
A moment of silence enveloped them, and he found his eyes drawn to her cat ears, captivated by their subtle twitch. Did they just move? He shook his head slightly, dispelling the distraction, and redirected his focus to the case at hand.
"What's your connection with her? I hope I'm not prying," Triumph asked after a moment.
"She's still a minor and she's always 'sick' before her rendezvous with the social workers," the woman said with a reproachful tone. "So I make it a point to look in on her since she's just around the corner from me." She gestured toward the girl with a knowing look. "You did submit your college applications for the upcoming semester, didn't you?"
"Yes, I applied to multiple colleges: Brockton, Boston, and New York. "
"Law?"
"Yes," the maid said with eagerness. "Maybe one day, I'll be your boss, nyan!"
"If that happens, I'll consider my job well done," the policewoman said with a faint but genuine smile.
The two women exchanged glances, and the maid began to hum a well-known melody, a sly smile playing on her lips. Naturally, the catgirl was teasing them. Cats were notoriously evil.
"Oh, you know that song," Assault said with surprise.
"Of course."
"Guess what? That's precisely what I was looking for!" the seasoned hero exclaimed, slamming his fist into his palm. "Are there any others of your colleagues who know it?"
"A few, maybe?" the girl remarked thoughtfully.
"Perfect! Can you ask the manager if I can make a little video with some of you? Wait, I'll just go ask her myself?"
Soon enough, the pair approached the counter, where the manager was busy crafting a drink. Their conversation flowed easily, drawing in a few other maids who joined in, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.
As Triumph was alone with Kiley, he said, "She's a bit eccentric."
The detective raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face. "Most waitresses in those cafés are a bit quirky, but they need the money. Like Alice, they often seek a way to leave town or provide for their families. The situation here is tough; quality housing and well-maintained buildings with reliable amenities are becoming increasingly scarce and costly."
Throughout his life, Triumph had never lacked for anything. In truth, his father had even spent a considerable sum to buy him powers.
"I guess that I'm just not used to it."
"Unfortunately, I am." she replied, setting down her empty cup. "She's a bit peculiar, but she's not a bad kid. There are normal things she would absolutely not do or tolerate and ridiculous things she would do without batting an eye. Like what we are about to see."
Triumph also had an inkling about what Assault planned to do and preferred not to think about it. The aftermath would definitely be a mess.
After a moment, the older man came back with a giant grin. "They accepted it for free. I just have to put their name on a thank you note. It's a beautiful day."
"I think I'm going to be sick," the detective said. "Are you really doing this?"
"Absolutely," the red hero replied, handing his phone to Triumph, who accepted it. "Make sure to record this."
Eventually, the hero made his way to the center of the room, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Shortly after, three waitresses, Alice among them, approached and formed a line beside him. They waited eagerly for the music to begin, while the café patrons watched the unfolding scene with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
The song began playing in the café speakers and Assault began a foolish dance.
Maybe it's a dream.
Maybe nothing else is real.
But it wouldn't mean a thing if I told you how I feel.
…
The three catgirl maids surrounding him engaged in a spontaneous, playful performance that seemed to spring forth from the moment itself.
So I'm tired of all the pain
And the misery inside.
And I wish that I could live feeling nothing but the night.
…
The waitresses' singing was slightly off-key, and they occasionally stumbled over the lyrics, yet their enthusiasm shone through brightly.
You could tell me what to say.
You could tell me where to go.
But I doubt that I would care and my heart would never know.
…
The majority of the patrons in the café were unabashedly chuckling and capturing the absurd spectacle on their devices.
Will tomorrow ever come?
Will I make it through the night?
Will there ever be a place for the broken in the light?
…
As the chorus approached, Assault found himself joining in, belting out the fragments of lyrics that lingered in his memory.
Am I hurting? Am I sad?
Should I stay or should I go?
I've forgotten how to tell. Did I ever even know?
…
In unison, they harmonized their voices while attempting to align their gestures.
This time you're not hurting me.
This time I will take a stand!
All the hatred in my eyes building up an evil plan.
…
They concluded their antics with a ludicrous pose, Assault, Alice, and the other maids unabashedly embracing the absurdity of the moment.
Once the curtain fell on their performance, the four performers dispersed, and the crimson-clad hero returned to the table and took back his phone. He checked the recording intently before he nodded.
"Now, I just need to share this on PHO," Assault exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "Piggot's going to be furious. Absolutely love it!"
Triumph cast a glance at his so-called mentor, stifling a sigh while a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.
____________________________________________
AN: The lyrics are from Bad Apple.
The song actually fits so well with Vill-V that it's going to make the PRT and Dauntless lose their shit later on.