Upon hearing that a visitor had arrived, Mako didn't hesitate to rush to the mansion's front door.
After all, it was none other than Willy Fox.
Opening the door, Mako found someone else: a thin man dressed in the typical elegant suit of a casino card dealer.
Polifemo stood behind Mako. Neither found it odd that Willy Fox wasn't there in person.
"Isn't this risky?" Polifemo said before giving the man a chance to speak. "You're clearly one of Fox's men. What are you doing here?"
Mako calmed Polifemo. He sensed the thin man brought news—and not good news.
Mako let him in.
"I know we're not allowed to come without prior notice," the thin man said, taking a seat, "but it's urgent. Fox is dead."
He wasted no time. The thin man hadn't even fully sat down, locking eyes with Mako after speaking.
'Give me a break,' Mako thought. It was the last thing he needed to hear.
Polifemo let out a shocked gasp.
"Dead?" the demon asked, incredulous.
"Yes, dead," the thin man replied.
"That means…" Mako said, weighing his options.
"You've got no investor. You're on your own," the thin man said, growing more nervous.
"Hold on, hold on," Polifemo said, waving his hands. "How'd he die?"
Mako felt a sinking dread. The thin man in the dealer's suit met his gaze directly.
That look was heavy, bearing even worse news.
"Who killed him?" Mako asked firmly.
The thin man seemed more nervous than before but didn't hesitate:
"Erick Sol, Master Mako."
At those words, Mako and Polifemo exchanged glances.
"Sit down and tell us everything," Mako said first.
At first, the man seemed too nervous to speak. He hadn't planned to stay long, but Mako's insistence (and Polifemo's veiled threats) convinced him to cooperate…
"We don't know exactly why he did it," the thin man said. "I barely escaped when I saw him arrive."
"You saw him arrive?" Mako asked, skeptical.
The thin man gave a sad laugh.
"Yeah, sorry, I didn't explain well. When I say I saw him arrive," he said, "I mean I heard him. A huge explosion at the entrance…"
The description left no doubt in Mako's mind: it was Erick. A massive blast sending burning wood flying, cloaked in black smoke, leaving a trail of destruction.
No question, it was Erick.
"He didn't say much. Just asked about Fox to the thugs he didn't kill outright," the thin man said with difficulty.
'Why?' Mako kept asking himself. 'Even if we're better off than before… Fox was our best investor.'
Mako hadn't had time to secure another noble's support. Now he relied entirely on the Royal Court.
In other words…
'One wrong move, and if Queen Verónica finds out I'm digging deeper into Arthur than I should… we'll be left with nothing,' Mako thought grimly.
Polifemo noticed his worried expression.
The thin man continued:
"It was brutal… I knew a lot of people there. But that's not the worst part."
Mako snapped out of his thoughts, focusing on the man. Sitting in the armchair, he kept rubbing his hands nervously.
"Fox kept everything in order down there," the man confessed.
"Down there?" Polifemo asked, picturing the fiery hell he came from.
"Yeah, the slums, you know what I mean," the thin man clarified.
Mako understood perfectly; Polifemo still imagined blazing wastelands.
"Anyway, now that he's gone, everyone's killing each other. And as if that weren't enough, your brother," the man said with resentment, "he's running wild, wreaking havoc."
The man clenched his fists, powerless.
"My family's down there… It's not safe, but now with that psychopath destroying everything, who protects us? We're alone…" he said through gritted teeth.
He was truly desperate.
Mako looked him over, then said directly:
"Is that all? Is that really everything you know?"
Polifemo glanced at Mako, surprised by his coldness.
The thin man's expression shifted. He stood, preparing to leave.
"I don't expect your help or pity," he said, scanning the elegant room before meeting Mako's eyes.
Again, that heavy gaze foretold deep sorrow: terrible news.
"I guess it doesn't matter keeping it secret anymore," he muttered, more to himself than to Mako or Polifemo. "Fox's men tried to assassinate Erick."
Mako didn't know how to feel about that.
"Now he's dead. His plan failed," the thin man continued, turning to leave.
"Wait," Mako said, grabbing his shoulder.
"I've got no more info. That's all I know," the man said.
"I know," Mako replied. "We'll help you."
Though meant as compassion, the man eyed him suspiciously, then gave a sad laugh.
"Don't mock me. I didn't come for your pity. This is my last task under Fox, nothing more."
Mako heard the man's words… He could tell he wasn't lying. Like Fox, if he had a facade, once he realized it was pointless, he had no reason to deceive.
"I'm serious. We'll help. I, Mako Sol, swear it on my honor…"
Mako glanced at Polifemo, asking him to draft a contract.
"As far as I know," Mako continued, "Willy Fox is still my investor. The contract didn't specify whether he was alive or dead."
The man listened more intently upon hearing "contract."
"Not only do I swear to help you on my honor," Mako concluded, "with this contract, I'll guarantee we catch Erick."
The thin man lowered his guard. He'd had his arms crossed, but now relaxed, though he gave another wry smile.
"What's in it for you?" he asked bluntly.
Polifemo conjured a blank contract on the table with a spark of fire, awaiting Mako's orders to fill it.
Mako didn't waver.
"Clearly, you're not working for Fox anymore, but it's not in my interest for you to end up with other criminals I don't know," he said with calculated coldness.
Precisely, Mako gave Polifemo instructions to fill the contract with all necessary details… Once everything was set, Mako signed it.
After signing, he handed the quill to the man.
"Once I catch Erick, you'll all work for me," Mako said.
The man, previously downcast, allowed a faint smile.
Without a word, he read the contract twice, confirmed it was in order, and signed.
"You'd better be quick," he said, heading for the door. "Otherwise, Erick won't leave anything for you to rule in the underworld."