Alaric slept like the universe was cooling into entropy… er, until the next morning.
Unbothered, he freshened up and headed downstairs for breakfast. At the foot of the stairs, he saw Klein at the door, talking to a boy in a coat and hat.
The boy stiffened upon seeing Alaric... not out of fear, but the natural reaction of someone caught discussing sensitive matters when a stranger appears.
"He's my assistant, no need to worry." Klein said quickly, slapping an assistant label on Alaric without a second thought.
"Hey!" Alaric waved at them, not intending to butt in, and followed the aroma to the kitchen for food.
The boy, Ian, visibly relaxed and resumed his conversation. "Detective Sherlock, can you take me to see Mr. Zereal's body?"
Yesterday, Ian had approached Klein, newly arrived in Backlund, with a commission to find a man named Zereal. As a mystical detective, Klein quickly located the target... in a sewer, dead. Klein had found his body.
Klein wouldn't refuse Ian's reasonable request. After a brief exchange, he prepared to change and head out.
Alaric emerged from the kitchen, holding half an apple pie. Seeing Klein ready to leave, he wasn't surprised and asked, "Who made this pie? It's pretty good."
"Uh, Mr. Red made it. He's quite the cook." Klein said, his expression turning odd. "I'd made breakfast, but Mr. Red tried it, wasn't impressed, and redid it himself."
"He's got that skill? Don't judge a book by its cover." Alaric said, mildly surprised, raising an eyebrow. He patted Klein's shoulder with his free hand. "Don't worry, Sherlock. Red's just got a picky palate. Your cooking's solid, really."
"I'm not bothered, just surprised he cooks." Klein said, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"Where's Red now?" Alaric asked, taking a bite of the pie.
"He left after breakfast, probably had something to do." Klein replied after a moment, glancing at Ian waiting by the door. "I've got to go too. Catch you later."
"Later!" Alaric waved as Klein changed and left. He sat at the coffee table with his pie, brewed a cup of coffee, and mused, "That was Ian, right? So…"
Alaric's eyebrow rose, his expression tinged with anticipation. "If Master Rosago comes charging in like in the original, won't he have to take on all three of us?"
In the original story, Ian's commission dragged Klein into a clash between the Loen military and Intis's Medici spies. Klein was forced to orchestrate the murder of the Intis ambassador and hire Sharon to deal with Rosago, who came for him. It cost him dearly but led to acquiring the Marionettist characteristic, birthing "The World."
Now, fate had guided Klein to Ian's commission again. Whether events would unfold as in the original was anyone's guess.
"What wicked plan are you hatching with that grin?" Medici's voice cut in, laced with his usual sarcasm. His figure emerged from the window's reflection, shifting from a flat image to three-dimensional reality.
"That hurts, you know. Me, wicked? I'm just a thrill-seeker who's all about happy endings!" Alaric said, gesturing to the last bite of pie on his plate with a smile. "By the way, nice cooking. Didn't expect you'd actually make food."
"Hmph!" Medici didn't catch the "happy ending" bit but got the gist. He sneered, glancing at Alaric's plate. "What choice do I have? I'm stuck babysitting two helpless kids. If I don't cook, you'd both starve."
Clearly a jab at Alaric and Klein.
Alaric blinked, then nodded. "True, Amon and Adam must've been tough to handle. Must've taken some skill to hone that babysitting knack."
He'd caught Medici's sarcasm but chose to twist it.
Medici, too lazy to argue, just rolled his eyes.
Alaric sipped his coffee and continued, "So, the True Creator's orders?"
He didn't believe Medici would cook just because Klein's breakfast didn't suit his taste.
"You know damn well." Medici said, pulling an apple from nowhere and biting it fiercely. "The Lord told me to look after you two. What a pain!"
"Skilled hands, heavy load. You're the pro at childcare." Alaric said soothingly, then casually asked, "So, you were in the East District earlier?"
"You tracking me?" Medici's red eyes sharpened as he glared at Alaric.
"Me? I've got better things to do than tail you. If I want to know what you're up to, I'll just ask." Alaric said, rolling his eyes. He pushed his empty plate aside, sipped his coffee, and added, "Just a guess. The True Creator probably sent you to check out the East District, right?"
Crunch. Medici glanced at Alaric, took another bite of his apple, and after a moment of thought, seemed to piece it together. "What did you do?"
"Just gave you an opportunity." Alaric said without missing a beat. "Yesterday, I took Mr. Grisha around Backlund to get a feel for the era. To give him the full picture, I made sure to show him the East District."
Medici lowered his gaze, clearly recalling something. "The Lord won't tolerate a place that sinful. He always wants everyone to live well."
"Exactly. Mr. Grisha was pretty upset about the East District and wants to make changes... reforms, even." Alaric said, smiling as he looked at the Red Angel. "War's inevitable in this world. Mr. Grisha and I both hope it's a war of reform. That's an opportunity for you, isn't it?"
***
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