The man didn't answer immediately.
Lucien didn't press. He stayed where he was, watching, letting the silence stretch until it started to weigh on the other man instead.
"I don't know what you think this is," the man said finally, voice lower now. "I don't ask questions. I get told where to go, what to clean, and I do it."
Lucien's gaze didn't shift. "You were told to clean that?"
The man shook his head quickly. "I don't know anything about him. Just that when he calls, I come. Clean it up, make it disappear. That's it."
A pause.
"He doesn't miss," he added, quieter. "You're not supposed to be here."
Lucien looked at him for a moment. Then he looked at the warehouse door, still slightly ajar, the same way it had been since he arrived.
"The board," he said. "The informant routine. The woman at the waterfront. All of it fed back to whoever runs that facility."
The man said nothing. Which was its own answer.
"How many have you cleaned up?"
The man's jaw tightened. He looked at the ground briefly, then back. "Enough."
"And the ones who didn't make it to the warehouse at all. The ones who turned back at the board or the alley."
"They just left. Nobody follows those ones." He paused. "Only the ones who get to the end."
"The man who runs that facility," Lucien said. "Who calls you?"
The man's expression shifted in a way he clearly hadn't intended. Just a fraction, just for a second, but it was enough.
"I told you," he said, steadier now. "I don't ask questions. A Den Den Mushi rings, I come, I clean, I leave. That's the arrangement."
"And the arrangement pays well enough to keep you from asking why a Major is killing a teenager."
The man said nothing.
"Right," Lucien said.
He pushed off the wall and straightened, coat settling back into place over the wrapped forearm. He looked at the man once more, steady and unhurried.
"That's enough," Lucien said.
The man didn't respond. He stepped back after a moment, putting distance between them without being told to.
Lucien didn't watch him leave.
He stayed where he was as the light shifted over the water, the horizon sharpening as the sun rose. The docks picked up again, movement settling back into its usual rhythm, like the night hadn't left anything behind.
Germa had been what he expected.
And not.
The technology was real. Clean. Integrated in ways he hadn't seen before. Not just tools, but systems built into people until there wasn't a clear line between the two.
And then there was everything else.
Too controlled. Too deliberate. Like the entire place had been arranged to function a certain way, with no room for anything outside it.
Lucien looked out over the water for a moment longer.
He could leave.
Nothing here tied him down. There were other islands, other places, and most of them didn't involve walking into something that had clearly been built with purpose.
His gaze shifted back toward the inner streets.
Or he could stay.
The reasons that brought him here hadn't gone anywhere. If anything, they had only gotten clearer.
Lucien exhaled quietly, running a hand through his hair once before letting it fall.
"…Right."
He pushed off the wall and headed back toward the lodging.
Not quickly. Just enough to put distance between himself and the docks before the day settled fully in.
The kingdom didn't change.
Not really.
The same measured movement. The same controlled rhythm. Only now, Lucien moved through it differently. Less visible. Less direct. Watching without stopping, taking in what people carried, how they moved, where the patterns held and where they didn't.
He didn't go back to the alley.
Didn't need to.
The colosseum stood out.
Not because it was hidden.
Because it wasn't.
Noise carried from it, louder than anything else in the city. Not uncontrolled, just… allowed. People gathered there without the same restraint, watching as fighters stepped into the ring one after another.
Lucien watched for a while before moving closer.
The fights weren't clean.
Different from the warehouse. Less precise. More variation. But the same idea underneath. Technology layered into movement. Reinforcement where it mattered. Tools designed to shorten the gap between decision and outcome.
Interesting.
"You need ten consecutive wins before anything changes," someone said from behind a counter. "No losses. No medical here. You handle that yourself. Understood?"
Lucien gave a small nod.
Names were written down. Details noted without much interest.
He didn't look at the others signing up.
He was still watching the ring.
He pushed off the wall and headed back toward the lodging.
Not quickly. Just enough to put distance between himself and the docks before the day settled fully in.
—
The kingdom didn't change.
Not really.
The same measured movement. The same controlled rhythm. Only now, Lucien moved through it differently. Less visible. Less direct. Watching without stopping, taking in what people carried, how they moved, where the patterns held and where they didn't.
He didn't go back to the alley.
Didn't need to.
—
The colosseum stood out.
Not because it was hidden.
Because it wasn't.
Noise carried from it, louder than anything else in the city. Not uncontrolled, just… allowed. People gathered there without the same restraint, watching as fighters stepped into the ring one after another.
Lucien watched for a while before moving closer.
The fights weren't clean.
Different from the warehouse. Less precise. More variation. But the same idea underneath. Technology layered into movement. Reinforcement where it mattered. Tools designed to shorten the gap between decision and outcome.
Interesting.
"You need ten consecutive wins before anything changes," someone said from behind a counter. "No losses. No medical here. You handle that yourself. Understood?"
Lucien gave a small nod.
Names were written down. Details noted without much interest.
He didn't look at the others signing up.
He was still watching the ring.
************************************
Remember 1 Chapter For Every 50 Power Stones.