Again, the group of mafiosos walked through the corridors. The tension from before had eased considerably, and Ryan could see from above many henchmen embracing each other, nearly in tears. War had been just a single word away.
If John had pushed even slightly on the Boss's capabilities, they would have gone to war.
If the Boss had not admitted that Ryan had awakened the Voice at that very moment, they would have gone to war.
In the end, John kept the peace at Ryan's request, while the Boss admitted the truth because he chose to. Perhaps he thought the same way Ryan did and saw war as a waste of resources.
Aron led them forward, and soon they entered a region even more heavily guarded than the others. "Many mafia members live inside the base. After all, they would have trouble with the police, the army, or other extremely violent criminal factions." Aron sighed deeply. "A failed mission can bring external punishments far worse than our own. But even so, in many cases, some of them already had complicated pasts and needed protection. And we provide that protection. As long as they remain useful."
Aron then led them into an even more luxurious and heavily guarded area. "Likewise, everyone wants the heads of the operation's leaders." He stopped in front of a door. "This is the Amber section. Everyone here is one of my personal henchmen. Here, my word is law. They even live side by side with me to protect me, and many times we share our meals together. In a way, think of the Amber section as a sub-faction of the Mafia, or even a full faction in its own right if the organization were not already splitting into two major factions."
He sighed deeply before nodding for them to open the door. Two maids opened it gently as they stepped into a cozy, ordinary meeting room. Two sofas sat at the center alongside a small snack table. At the far end of the room there were even a few armchairs facing a fireplace, with a bookshelf standing beside it.
But what caught Ryan's attention most, without question, were the maids. He looked openly at a blonde maid with green eyes. Yet instead of a youthful flush, his expression was cold and detached.
John and Aron were surprised.
"This is the first time I have seen a woman inside the Mafia..." he remarked, turning toward them. The two did not respond, simply settling onto the sofas without answering Ryan. "There were no henchmen or even upper echelon members belonging to the female gender."
"Sit down," John suggested. "Aron does not usually take an interest in just anyone, so I believe it is better to focus on that for now, Young Master." Ryan nodded, stepping forward and taking a seat.
"So? What did you want to talk about?" Ryan said, making Aron adjust his glasses.
"There aren't enough fingers on a hand...." Aron said mysteriously. "For so many things I want to discuss with you. But for now I want to focus on what matters most." Aron took a deep breath.
"You are going to be without the Alpha Helmet for quite some time, so you will be focused on the Manhattan Café and its operations for a long period." He said it without surprise. "With that said, there are three things to address."
Again he raised his fingers and began counting. "First: I want you to learn more about the Voice, so that when you return to the Unnamed Game you will have an advantage and can come back whole with new, useful information. Second, I want you to carry out some missions during this time. The Mafia is short on manpower, and even in the battered state you are in, you can still be of use. And third, we need a teacher to instruct you on the Voice."
Ryan frowned deeply. He could understand the first two. But the third came as a shock. "I have already awakened the Voice, right? I think I just need to practice a little to get the hang of it. Calling in a teacher seems excessive, don't you think?"
"No, actually, especially in your case. It is absolutely necessary." Aron said, crossing his arms. "You have not yet understood, but we call it the Voice because it allows you to communicate something, an emotion or thought from the internal world, to the external one." Aron gave a dry cough before continuing with a story:
"You know, Ryan, when I was around ten years old I took a trip to a cavernous region and ended up getting separated from the group, left in the dark with nothing but bats for hours on end. Until misfortune struck, because it started to rain heavily. So heavily that it flooded the cave I was in." Aron recounted, tears in his eyes. "I was scared, cold, and soaking wet while more and more bats closed in on me from every direction. I was afraid, Ryan. I thought I was going to die. The darkness was terrifying."
He then paused, cleaning the tears in his eyes.
"Do you understand my pain, Ryan?" He stared at the boy, who raised a hand to his chin with a somber look. Even so, Ryan answered honestly.
"I can understand it to a degree, but you were a child back then and today you are an adult. So it is hard to feel genuine empathy." Aron nodded in agreement and then said:
"But what about now?" Suddenly, his eyes sank into an endless void.
Suddenly the light seemed to be devoured as the beating of a myriad of wings surrounded Ryan, striking against him every so often as he tried to protect himself. Simultaneously, water rose to his neck, threatening to drown him and soon would, climbing a little higher with each passing moment. Ryan began to panic. He tried to swim, but his body was so small and weak. He tried to cry out for help, but only the shrieking of the bats could be heard closing in around him.
That was Aron's Voice of intimidation.
When Ryan came back to himself, he looked at Aron differently. "Now I understand." Ryan buried his face in his own hands. "Your words are not enough. Your body language is not enough. But the Voice, it is the perfect language. I could feel what it was like to be you."
"Exactly." Aron said with a smile. "The most common Voice is the Voice of intimidation, since everyone has been weak and powerless at some point. Exposing that trauma to someone who is unprepared for it is like a horror film. It serves as a powerful mental attack against non-awakened minds and even awakened minds, which must be careful depending on the opponent."
He then smiled broadly. "But that is just the beginning." Aron continued. "You can also learn other Voices, such as those of disgust, anger, and contempt, as well as the Voice of Euphoria, of love, and of friendship. Just as you can intimidate, you can make friends instantly, or cause someone to fall in love at first sight." Aron swallowed, visibly excited.
"You can communicate anything through the Voice." Aron leaned forward on his hands. "That is why I want you to have a teacher, especially with a talent like yours."
Ryan briefly weighed his words. "But couldn't John do it?" he asked, to which John himself shook his head.
"Unfortunately, Young Master, this is an art in which I never had much to show for myself." He said, embarrassed. "As for young Aron, I have heard a great deal about him in this particular area." John said with respect and reverence.
"Indeed, I am very talented, and that is precisely why I cannot stand to watch such great talent go to waste. I long to polish you into the diamond I know you are." He said with a mischievous smile.
"But how could you teach me?" Ryan asked. "I had to go through a calamity to awaken a single Voice. I can even picture myself enduring some form of hardship to awaken the others. But feelings like euphoria? Friendship? Love? Those do not seem like things that can be taught."
"That is exactly why having a good teacher matters so much." Aron said. "Awakening a Voice depends on the right day and the right moment, which makes it very difficult to awaken any new Voice at all. Unless, of course, someone behind the curtain helps you along. With that said, just say yes. And I will be that person."
Ryan stared at John with uncertainty for a few moments. Ryan knew why Aron was obsessed with him beyond mere talent. Ryan was the greatest representative of the faction his father had left behind. If he and Aron started getting along well, the factions would begin to unite in a more stable way.
It was the male equivalent of a political marriage.
But then again, it was not a bad offer.
"Alright, what do you need me to do?" Ryan asked, to which Aron laughed in amusement and called for some papers.
"I was already going to ask you this before. It turns out that as Manager of the Manhattan Café, you carry certain responsibilities when it comes to gathering and selling information. Espionage, in broader terms."
He then slid the documents over to Ryan. "In one week, an Army Major and a big tech company CEO are coming to the Manhattan Café to discuss matters that are, until now, unknown to us. The meeting is scheduled to take place at three in the afternoon, in one of the private rooms. Soundproofed and with no cameras. What happens in there stays in there." Aron sank back into the sofa. "Unfortunately we have not been able to plant an infiltrated agent inside. In other words, even we have no idea what is going to happen in that room."
Ryan and John both frowned, then exchanged a glance before responding. "This much is obvious," said John. "We built a perfect business for this and put in a great deal of work to earn the public's trust. We cannot break our own rules or we will be shooting ourselves in the foot. If it is a private room, then it is private. We will never know what was said in there, no matter what."
"Tsk! You say that because you are old, John." Aron shrugged. "True, we have no way of directly knowing what happens inside. But these people always bring companions who do not go in with them."
Aron pushed another paper forward. "Given the time of year, the CEO's daughter is accompanying her father to learn how to eventually take over the business. But she will not enter the room. She will wait at one of the regular tables, drinking coffee alone while she waits for her father to finish his affairs." Without pause, Aron pushed yet another paper forward. "The Major's son will also be accompanying his father. Their situations are similar. Parents want to show what life is like in their world, but there are things they cannot show due to sensitive content. In the end, the children are left alone and bored while they wait. And that is the opening we are going to exploit."
Aron then clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention, and all of them straightened up. "Like watching a film, as soon as the CEO and the Major step out of the room, they will complain or boast about what was said, to their children. The context will come through in fragments, of course. But it is something." He then fixed his gaze on Ryan and said:
"With that in mind, your mission is simple: For now, just befriend one of them, or even both. Build a friendship genuine enough that they will not hesitate to complain about the unfairly high expectations their parents place on them... and in doing so, they will accidentally end up spilling the top-secret details of the cutting-edge military technology they are developing."
Ryan swallowed hard. "You are the only one we can count on. You are perfect for this mission." Aron said. "Can I count on you?"
Ryan pressed his lips together, pondering in silence. He then took a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Of course. A mission given is a mission done."