Morning light crept into the room like a cautious intruder.
Vaelor stood near the door, counting worn bills with practiced indifference. From the seven dollars he had received from Eagle Eye, some had vanished into taxi fare. He separated the remainder cleanly and handed three and a half dollars to Perun, slipping the remaining one and a half into his own pocket.
"Take it," Vaelor said calmly. "Consider it my rent."
Perun frowned. "You don't need to—"
Vaelor cut him off with a glance, sharp yet unreadable.
Perun hesitated, then thought to himself, Well… I did receive an advance of ten dollars from Lukman. That should last me three weeks.
Still, uncertainty lingered. But I don't know how long it'll take before the next salary comes.
In the end, he accepted the money and placed it carefully into the small case in his room, as if storing something fragile.
Only then did Perun truly notice it.
Vaelor was wearing the same outfit he'd worn all week—the same white shirt, stubbornly unchanged.
"Hey," Perun said, unable to hold back. "Take this off and wear one of mine."
Vaelor glanced down at himself. "This?"
A faint smile touched his lips. "It's my favorite. I don't see a reason to replace it."
Perun sighed and walked into the living room. He opened his cupboard, rummaged briefly, then pulled out a blue shirt and white pants, handing them over.
"At least give me the white shirt and pants you're wearing. I'll wash them."
Vaelor didn't argue this time.
After settling things, they ate breakfast in silence—cutlery clinking softly, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Soon after, they parted ways.
Perun slung a yellow backpack over his shoulder.
Vaelor paused. "What's that?"
"My makeover stuff," Perun replied casually.
Vaelor headed toward Eagle Eye.
Perun went in the opposite direction—to the shopping complex they had recently bought. Inside, he entered the bathroom, changed his appearance, and altered his demeanor completely. Amid the morning hustle, no one paid him a second glance.
A shadow among shadows.
Later, he arrived at the building owned by Lukman.
Lukman was already there, seated on a couch, staring into nothingness—deep in thought.
Perun entered.
Lukman looked up instantly. "Did you find a way?"
Perun didn't answer immediately. He sat on the couch opposite him and asked instead,
"Tell me—who is the most powerful person on the Florith Continent?"
Lukman frowned. "The High Chancellor."
"And after him?"
"The Vice Chancellor… and the governors of the major cities."
Perun nodded. "And do you know who backs them?"
"Organizations," Lukman said slowly. "But we can't participate in elections."
"Illegal organizations," Perun corrected softly, "yet sanctioned by authority."
Lukman exhaled. "Exactly."
"If anyone wants to change the balance of power," Perun continued, his voice low, "those organizations must fall first."
Lukman hesitated, then nodded. "That's… partly true."
"This is also the plan of the Vice Chancellor and Ricardo," Perun said.
"That's why they're dealing with the Three Families Union."
"Yes," Lukman agreed. "I know."
"For now," Perun went on, "the High Chancellor has sensed what's being plotted behind his back. That's why security has tightened for anyone entering Florith. The Three Families Union is struggling to move their people in."
Lukman's eyes narrowed. "So you're planning to seize authority over the regions they use to enter?"
"But isn't that dangerous?" he added. "Wouldn't that help the High Chancellor instead of us?"
Perun smiled faintly. "We take the authority—but we don't allow them through."
Lukman leaned forward. "And where do you plan to seize it?"
"The seaports," Perun replied.
A tense silence followed.
Then—both smiled.
Meanwhile, at Eagle Eye
Vaelor entered Augustin's office.
Truman was already there. Vaelor greeted him, and Truman returned the gesture.
"Any update on the Minsley and Dr. Morris case?" Truman asked.
Augustin sat behind his desk, looking utterly exhausted. Dark circles clung beneath his eyes—it was clear he hadn't slept all night.
"They were transferred to court this morning," Augustin said hoarsely.
"Officer Brone escorted them after their confession."
Truman nodded. "Alright."
Vaelor caught the unfamiliar name but said nothing.
Augustin straightened slightly. "We have a new case."
His gaze hardened.
"These are high-level orders. This time, you're not solving anything."
Vaelor frowned. "Then what are we doing? Isn't Robert and Jackson better suited for—"
"They are," Augustin interrupted. "But this is bigger."
Truman stiffened. "Who are we spying on?"
"Someone in parliament," Augustin said. "And a big shot."
He paused.
"And an unknown organization."
The room fell silent.
"They're plotting," Augustin finished quietly, "against the vice-Chancellor."