Glancing at her, Kaufman wasn't even sure where his sight ended or started: on her bosom, legs, or hips. “How I look doesn't matter to me. I chose the life I had to make and the power that makes sense to me. Shame it stinks of lies and doubts, but such is life.”

  “Such is life,” Margaret repeated. “A lot of us do think slower or closer than that, dear Kaufman.”

  “Hm. What happened in that cave will remain hidden in history, and you know that. Though I may not like it, it doesn't matter if someone knows or you like to pretend it was different.”

  “I don't think about it at all. How is Heidi?”

  “Good... She is as good as any brand-new Director of my library can be. Well, sorry, there has ever been me and her, so the expectations are low indeed. Comparisons are an evil thing.”

  “You have quite a play with words, as usual. You haven't changed at all, Frederick.”

  Taking another deep sip of the wine, Kaufman found the bottom of the third bottle. He reached out for another bottle, much to his abysmal, low mood. Their history was interesting, to say the least.

  “Look who prefers disasters!?” Kaufman said to her and showed the empty bottle in her face.

  “I am sure you did this to yourself.” Margaret shoved it away, speaking without a change in her expression or voice.

  “Still cold as ever. No wonder. What happened had to happen, and separation is a nice, great move. I learned that from the expert,” Kaufman scoffed, offering the empty bottle to the window.

  Margaret acknowledged it with a nod, followed by a sigh and a slight adjustment of her chin. “I left you because I wanted to. Of course, if you are talking about what you mean. If not, forget it. Anything less is unimportant for me; you should feel the same.”

  “Tell that to Heidi!” Kaufman uttered these words with force and no shame, regardless of the consequences and wrongdoings. He wasn't a good parent either way. Again, he learned...

  “I am sure her time under our tutelage went well for anyone, her included. That is what matters, and anything less is....”

  “... is unimportant, right? Right. Right! I heard it hundreds of times before. Yet she doesn't spare any good words about her fake mother, let alone a real one. What does that mean to me, as a father?”

  “That you fucked up and found out? Either way, we cared for what mattered. I have no idea about the rest, so how about getting to the real topic, before we tell Richards our life story?” Margaret voiced her concern since Richards was standing close behind her. She didn't mind him because shoving him away was unnecessary and almost harmful. He was supposed to be her Butler, and he dealt with Kaufman out of her courtesy and personality.

  “I am not interested.” Kaufman barked the coldest words he could mutter. Such words to a beauty that hadn't changed in decades were like arrows, and she didn't seem to like it. His words pointed to a woman he loved in the past, though it was in a different era and of a different partnership. It wasn't the end they wanted, and Heidi wasn't even Margaret's primary concern. It was Kaufman's problem that he liked to overlook.

  “I figure you would be like this. While your unwillingness to cooperate is my concern and hope, there is more to this than you know.”

  “Talk about the recruitment was a farce. That's great. I would expect nothing else from a bunch of important fools carrying silly banners.”

  Margaret found his words the least bit forceful, so she tried to ignore him and continued talking.

  “It's about something recent and great. There have been reports that Fain wants to do and touch. It is for most Rank 8 Walkers. You included, so take this for a word of wisdom and not like an old fool.” Margaret said her part, moved her legs sideways, and gracefully walked away.

  The only thing that remained on the table was a small letter. The kind that might look small, yet told a surprising story, or, unless one dreamed of reaching the skies, it might be a terrible disaster in a small form. There were only a few who had the privilege of receiving such a letter from Fain, and it was indeed a letter from the devil himself.

  Kaufman saw it that way, since very few people in the entire world could pressure a Rank 8 Walker into accepting concessions or a work assignment. Kaufman wasn't shocked, since if and when Fain wanted to contact Rank 8 Walkers, it never started or ended well for multiple people. Blood got spilled all the time because of it.

  Kaufman looked at that small letter with contempt and almost tore it apart. A single glance to the side, aimed at Margaret's leaving rear, stopped his actions. A look wouldn't hurt anyone like him, so he let her go where she wanted to be, as if it ever mattered.

  At least she wasn't someone worse; Kaufman couldn't even imagine what Fain would say to him at the moment, or if he dared to go and want something out of him. Kaufman didn't like being used for nefarious reasons, but... what of the other reason? There were countless of them, and a couple of them should be fine.

  Although reluctant, he believed compromises were what a smart man would do. Richards thought the same and followed Margaret behind, wondering what was in that letter. He had no idea.

  Even the frustration caused by Kaufman's stubbornness left him with doubts and questions about a few decisions, yet Richards couldn't blame him. He was a weakling, a Butler even, and being in this room was already a pretty likable honor. Now, he knew it was futile to think about it further, because while Kaufman might be like a frail old man, he still held onto old convictions and thoughts of the past. It was a fine chain indeed, because everyone had some responsibilities to fulfill or be forced to do.

  Kaufman watched her back on quite a few occasions, and not every time was the same. A few were bitter or even hot. Knowing the exact number wasn't in his mind, though he believed Margaret knew such times herself. She was the one who was forceful, so vivid and blazing like a charming fox.

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  Moaning and almost leaving his chair, Kaufman gave up. “Ahh... Whatever! It's not like she is willing to care. Heidi isn't even her blood. It is time to me... with me... She is... whatever at this point. Heidi is... what?” His hands shook in trouble, and bottles started to float around him.

  He watched his , looking at him through the bottom line of a weird dimension. “What are you looking at, hm? These bottles aren't for you!” Kaufman demanded.

  a sharp voice called, coming from a single-eyed snake that was ethereal like a surreal ancient dragon, eel, or a very brutal anaconda.

  “Judging me... eh?”

  

  Waving his hand at it, Kaufman grabbed a bottle and took care of its imaginary contents. As for the piece of paper, it flowed forward and soon opened up.

  It had only a few lines of text, which formed a special message, coordinates, and riddles for a few who could understand something insane.

  He read it a few times just in case, as if his eyes would trick him, or that snake would eat it. It could; it often did so out of spite. Placing his other hand across his mouth, an inaudible “Fuck.” moved under his mouth.

  As Margaret left for other important matters, most Butlers moved to different tables, and the Academy officially entered the fray. It had a very special position, a reputation, and a selection of Walkers that was the best in the world. For them, looking at results wasn't even half of their assignment. It was less than a tenth of their desires for coming here, since their real deal was at best the talents available, or... not.

  Nevertheless, the talk about a 99-girl lingered around the room and became the center of attention. Many wondered where she went with her guardian and what might happen to him, or her, or if she was even fine after Awakening and attaining quite a potent Rank 1. It was impossible to disguise it, as that sword was pretty darn obvious.

  Anyone qualified will soon have much more information about her. Most had no doubts that the Academy, and Margaret, the current Judge, would be very interested in Celeste. She was a big shot, yet she wasn't very old. She was of a similar generation to Yondu, meaning she was in her late sixties. Of course, her Rank 8 was no surprise to anybody.

  There were a lot of people interested in the Academy, no matter where one looked. Margaret became a center of attention, and many forgot about the youths.

  Kaufman thought she was very funny indeed, yet the moment he saw the letter, his spirit sank.

  

  “Shut up... for once.”

  Kaufman sighed and crumbled the letter in his fist before tossing it up for the snake to eat. “For fuck's sake...”

  It enjoyed it, then began to hiss in wonder and eye the bottle.

  ***

  Further away, Richards followed after Margaret. “Is it fine to leave him like this, my lady?”

  “What are you getting into? Do you think dealing with Rank 8 Walkers is a simple Tuesday? He is familiar to me, like a clear lake. He knows me and knows what matters.”

  “I doubt that. I mean... It is better than dealing with monsters, but Kaufman has his reputation and unmistakable unclean matters at hand.”

  “The Academy has its own matters and hands. Or... have you forgotten about me?” Margaret smiled at him, stepped forward, patted his chest with her palm, adjusted his tie, and looked at his eyes. “What do you fear the most, Richards?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Lies.”

  “I was dealing with Kaufman for a long time. He turned even more unpredictable when that kid Gale came over and... well,”

  A hand clutched his neck next, ceasing further words. Margaret frowned, caressing his neck. “Gales... Why does he care? What's the point in such power struggles? He should come to me and beg for mercy.”

  “He might,” an old butler lady said behind her. “Kaufman will get it.”

  “Who asked you?” Margarated snapped at her and released Richards, who stood as if nothing had happened.

  “Why not ask?”

  Margaret stepped into his personal space, grabbing his chin and part of his face. Lifting his head only a little bit, she was like a reaper snatching for a life. “I don't care what happens either way. The Academy has its rules. You do. We do. I will follow Fain. Trials have their own rules, much like a law. Understood?”

  “B...”

  “But who cares about some orphan nobody who came lapping for breath out of nowhere? Whatever the case is with him or his parents, they are old and foolish. So what if his Rank 0 came up ten years ago? Do we have clearer verification for such claims? Do we understand each other, him, or all Emblems?” Margaret patted his face with her other hand, making him realize how little he was.

  Dealing with his boss was never easy. Many Walkers understood this fact, or quickly came to understand it through scrutiny and learning.

  Releasing her grip, she let Richards off with a low scolding since they were in public.

  Richards had no idea, curses in his mind, nor time to care about further consequences. This person was difficult to work with, and it seemed he underestimated her interest in history, as well as Gales and Kaufman's work and intentions.

  He made plenty of reports, yet Margaret was never like this, so what changed? Kaufman did... this room.... and matters of that paper?! As for his other ideas, it was like a trial without an end in sight. He knew details about

  Viktor Gale, but William was another matter altogether, as many details about him turned into dust Outside.

  His talent might forge doubts, fit into a weird history, and intrigue the Parties of the Academy because Richards doubted his personality a little. If the talent were extraordinary, perhaps he would think something else.

  Still, his disappearance and the fate of his parents were sensitive even after all these years, unlike in the Federation, where Divisions didn't care for that. Even the Yondu Division moved on, even if their former backbone battered everything, including their reputation and pride. That's at least what had shown on the surface, or how others saw them to be.

  Before anything else, William had no idea what the Academy did or thought. Mi-Yung didn't know it as well, and she wasn't aware of what to judge or doubt about that place. Her reach over it was irritating and problematic these days, so out of every issue, the Academy was the least under her wisdom.

  Six weeks passed, and numerous new or old investigations came to light, in eyes and memories alike. There were wonders and suspicions in some people, as well as something else shifting with the Academy. Back then, Richards wasn't part of it, so he had no idea what truly mattered to someone like Margaret, or Mi-Yung, or what went on with this neat, little old family drama.

  William's reappearance sparked these reasons, yet Mi-Yung was the one who discovered him and never let go of him. She disregarded the Academy as a whole, and even the Assembly didn't manage to do much. This left two very powerful forces in a state of helpless wonder, and many people wondered whether they should force Mi-Yung to yield or force her to her knees.

  In the end, one figured it was better to do it, while the other waited and remained patient. Guesses were useless. Hearing Margaret's unwillingness, Richards had no choice but to set this matter aside and work behind the scenes.

  He made his move on William because of Margaret and to see his reaction. It was less about recruitment and more about hidden reasons. That was a simple plan that might get complicated in this room and in that bunker and chair.

  Was it about revenge? That didn't seem the case to him because Margaret showed no suspicious or historical significance. She was no Gale either, but part of the West Party. So for the time being, where he tried to look between the lines, he felt Mi-Yung was one part of the riddle, while William was a key. What was the door, or the path?

  This left the Awakening less impressive, while the Examination should be much fiercer. The Academy would never force recruitment. If someone refused their offer, it was their shame. It was a very restrained organization where getting inside was hard, and remaining there was sometimes even more complicated, or straight-up impossible.

  Margaret showed half of her colors and very much hoped for something to cleanse this room. Since she was like that, Richards took note of the incoming numbers. William's turn was coming soon.