The Setup — Outside Richerd Trading Company
The street in front of Richerd Trading Company was busier than usual.
Merchants argued prices, carts rattled over stone, and townsfolk gathered near the entrance, some waiting for work, others merely passing time. To most, it was just another day.
Albert stepped forward.
His clothes were worn, deliberately so. Dust clung to his sleeves. His voice carried easily.
"Is this how you treat the poor?" he shouted, pointing at the company gates.
"Is this how a man begging for fair trade is rewarded?"
Several heads turned.
The guards stiffened but didn't move yet.
Albert's voice rose, fed by practiced anger.
"You sell herbs at prices we can never afford! You speak of fairness, but your wealth is built on our suffering!"
People slowed. A few stopped.
From the corners of nearby streets, men lingered—leaning against walls, pretending to gamble, pretending to talk. Their eyes never left the gate.
The Guards Intervene
One guard stepped forward.
"Move along," he said. "You're blocking business."
Albert laughed bitterly.
"Business? You mean robbing us in daylight?"
He spread his arms wide. "Look at them! Armed men protecting gold while children starve in the slums!"
A murmur rippled through the onlookers.
The guard's jaw tightened.
"I warned you," he said, reaching out and shoving Albert back a step.
That was enough.
The Spark Ignites
Albert stumbled—not from the shove, but by choice—and fell hard onto the stone.
Gasps followed.
"He hit him!" someone shouted.
Before the guards could react, figures emerged from alleys and side streets.
"Enough!"
"You think you can treat us like animals?"
"We won't take this anymore!"
Drex's men flooded the street, weapons already in hand.
To the crowd, it looked sudden. Emotional. Unplanned.
To Merrin, watching from inside the building, it looked like war dressed as chaos.
Merrin Understands
Merrin's eyes narrowed.
Not a riot.
Not anger.
Formation.
He saw it—the way they moved together, how they blocked exits first, how some men went straight for the doors.
This wasn't a protest.
It was an attack.
Immediate Response — Evacuation
"Close the inner doors," Merrin ordered calmly.
"You—take the clerks through the rear hall. No running. No shouting."
Panic flickered—but his voice held it in check.
Lumi hesitated, looking back at the chaos outside.
"Merrin…?"
"Do as I say."
Employees were ushered out through hidden passages, some crying, some confused, none truly understanding what was happening.
One young worker slipped away into the streets—toward Division Eight's headquarters.
Inside — Only Three Remain
When the doors finally shut, silence pressed in.
Only Merrin, Lumi, and Rudra remained.
The noise outside grew louder—shouts, metal striking wood, glass shattering.
Rudra clenched his fists.
"What's happening?" he asked.
Merrin stepped slightly ahead of him.
"An ugly side of the city," he said evenly.
"Stay behind me."
No destiny.
No prophecy.
Just duty.
The First Strike
Back at the trading company, Lumi was reorganizing documents when the front doors slammed open.
Men poured in.
Not customers.
Not guards.
Rough hands overturned displays. Crates shattered. Someone struck a clerk hard enough to send him crashing into a pillar.
Screams filled the hall.
Lumi froze for half a second—then moved.
"Everyone, stay calm!" she shouted, even as fear tightened her chest. "Please—this is a misunderstanding!"
A man shoved her aside.
That was when Merrin arrived.
The head butler took in the scene with a single sharp glance—and understood immediately.
"This is an attack," he muttered.
He raised his voice, cutting through the chaos.
"All staff—evacuate through the rear passage! Leave everything behind!"
His authority snapped people into motion. Clerks abandoned desks, customers fled, and panic became movement instead of paralysis.
Merrin turned to Lumi.
"Go with them."
Lumi hesitated.
"What about you? What about—"
"I'll handle this," he said firmly. "Now."
She nodded and ran.
Holding the Line
Within moments, the company hall was nearly empty.
Nearly.
Merrin stood his ground as the last of the staff disappeared through the back corridors. The attackers slowed when they realized the building was clearing.
Too late.
One man laughed.
"Looks like the old one's staying."
Merrin straightened his coat.
"You have no authority here," he said calmly. "Leave now, and this ends with fewer consequences."
Drex stepped forward, amused.
"You talk a lot for a servant."
Merrin's eyes never left him.
"I am entrusted with this place. And I will protect it."
Behind him, a door creaked softly.
Rudra stood there.
The boy had been pulled from his lessons by the noise, confusion written plainly on his face.
"Merrin?" he asked. "What's happening?"
Merrin did not turn immediately.
Instead, he positioned himself slightly in front of Rudra.
"Go back inside," he said quietly.
Rudra frowned.
"But—"
Merrin finally looked at him.
His voice softened—but did not weaken.
"Master Richerd entrusted you to me. Until he returns, it is my duty to keep you safe. You are important to him… and I will not fail in protecting what my master is not ready to lose."
Rudra hesitated, sensing the weight in those words.
Slowly, he nodded.
"I understand."
He stepped back—but did not leave entirely.
The Messenger
As the first blow landed inside the company, a lone clerk burst through the rear gates and sprinted into the city streets.
He ran without stopping.
Past markets. Past guards. Past people who would not understand.
By the time he reached Division Eight headquarters, he was barely standing.
Guards intercepted him at the entrance.
"There's an attack!" he gasped. "Richerd Trading Company—slum outlaws—they're destroying everything!"
Inside the headquarters, a meeting had just begun.
Richerd stiffened.
Alex was already on his feet.
"What did you say?"
"They've surrounded the building," the clerk continued. "Master Richerd's people were evacuating—there are still some inside!"
Richerd did not wait.
He turned and ran.
Alex followed immediately, issuing orders as he moved.
The Choice
Kael watched them go.
Elden stepped forward.
"We should assist—"
Kael raised a hand.
"No."
Elden looked at him sharply.
"What?"
"You're a royal court member," Kael said quietly. "If you get involved in a slum dispute without authorization, it creates complications. Political ones."
Elden clenched his fists.
"And Richerd?"
"I trust Alex," Kael replied. Then, after a pause, "And… this situation may answer some questions we've been asking."
Elden studied his brother's expression—but Kael gave nothing more.
Calm Before the Collapse
Back at the trading company, furniture burned. Glass shattered. Men shouted and laughed as they advanced deeper into the building.
Merrin stood firm.
Rudra watched from behind him, heart pounding—not from fear alone, but from confusion.
Why did everything always break like this?
Outside, sirens echoed faintly.
Someone was coming.
The capital still looked calm.
But its foundations were beginning to crack.