"What's the matter, brat?"
Rudolph's voice carried a quiet edge as his hand came to rest atop Jurgen's head, pressing down just enough to sting, not enough to injure, but enough to provoke. It was deliberate, calculated, the kind of gesture meant to test rather than dominate.
"Have a score to settle?"
Jurgen's eyes burned.
For a fleeting moment, the rage surged unchecked, coiling beneath his skin, urging him forward, but just as quickly, clarity cut through it. The intent became obvious. This was no careless act.
He was being baited.
Jurgen drew in a slow, controlled breath. His shoulders squared, tension forced into stillness as he grounded himself, his foot striking firmly against the stone beneath him.
"NO, SIR!"
The response rang out across the courtyard, loud, unwavering, carrying a force that demanded acknowledgment.
Rudolph paused, then exhaled faintly, straightening as his hand lifted away.
"Hmm?… well, you're no fun."
Disappointment colored his tone, though the faint curve of his smile suggested something closer to amusement than genuine displeasure.
"That's a start," he added, glancing briefly at the parchment still in his hand. "At least you have self-control."
The words lingered, not quite praise, not quite critique, something in between, as though he had measured Jurgen and found him… acceptable, for now.
"I can't imagine your personality surviving here, knowing I am in charge of this order," he continued, voice settling into something more thoughtful. "So I assume Lord Nemesio had a hand in this."
A quiet exhale followed, his hand rising to the back of his head as he rubbed it lightly, the gesture casual despite the weight of his words.
"That cunning… good grief."
Without another glance, he tossed the parchment toward Eric and turned, already moving away.
"You're all dismissed."
Eric caught the list cleanly before stepping forward, his composure unshaken as he addressed those remaining.
"The four of you—follow me. The rest are can go. You are to locate KRM and collect your uniforms before assignment."
The courtyard began to disperse once more, the earlier tension dissolving into movement as the routine resumed.
"…My apologies for Rudolph," Eric added as he began to walk, the four recruits falling in behind him. "He possesses a rather volatile temperament."
He did not slow, his voice measured and professional as he continued.
"My name is Captain Eric Inker. I oversee the majority of operations within this division. Should you require assistance, you may approach me without hesitation."
Bubbles hurried slightly to keep pace, adjusting his stride to remain aligned. "So… where are we headed?"
"To my office," Eric replied without turning. "There, I will formally assign your inaugural mission."
"You mean my first mission?"
Jurgen's voice carried a trace of confusion, though curiosity had begun to replace the earlier tension.
Eric allowed a small chuckle to escape.
"Hah… yes, your first mission. Forgive the phrasing, I have a tendency toward formal diction. A habit of the bookish, I'm afraid."
Jurgen remained silent, his gaze fixed forward with unwavering focus as they walked, the rhythm of his steps steady despite the weight of unanswered questions gathering in his mind.
"You and Ru… the commander, you seem to share a certain affinity," he finally spoke, correcting himself mid-sentence as though choosing his words with reluctant care. His tone carried a faint flicker of curiosity beneath its restraint.
"Yes… we do. He is my elder brother. I am Eric Inker Twyford."
Eric's reply came instantly, enunciated with deliberate precision, as though the fact had long been established and required no further contemplation.
A brief flash of surprise crossed Jurgen's face before he quickly composed himself again, his expression settling back into guarded neutrality.
"Then…"
"Yes. He is Rudolph Blutmörder Twyford," Eric answered without hesitation, his voice calm, measured, and entirely unbothered by the revelation. "Although 'Blutmörder' is not a name he was given at birth. I do not know why he uses it."
Bubbles, walking slightly behind, glanced between them, curiosity finally getting the better of him.
"So what does Blutmörder me—"
"Haa… here we are."
Eric's voice cut cleanly through the moment as he stepped into his office, the interruption so precise it felt intentional, as though the question had been quietly sealed before it could fully form. The atmosphere shifted subtly as they entered, the structure of the room quieter, more contained, the weight of authority settling in with it.
Eric moved behind his desk without delay, lowering himself into his chair as the others positioned themselves before him. With practiced ease, he retrieved a feathered ink pen and began marking names onto parchment, his attention briefly divided between them and a broader list of mission assignments laid out before him.
"So…" he murmured, eyes scanning the page.
"Only four of you will be deployed for this mission."
His hand paused briefly near his face as he removed his glasses with careful precision, as though preparing to examine the details more closely.
A quiet breath followed.
"Ah… the only available assignment is an R5 operation. It may prove somewhat challenging for you."
The page turned with a smooth, practiced motion.
"Do not underestimate me."
Jurgen's voice cut in immediately, firm, direct, edged with a restrained irritation that refused to settle into silence.
Eric lifted his gaze slowly, studying him for a moment before shifting his attention across the others, including Bubbles and the remaining recruits. His expression remained measured, thoughtful, as though weighing not just words, but potential.
A deep exhale left him.
"Well… I suppose we can evaluate what you are truly capable of. If my assessment is correct, you should be able to manage it."
He leaned back slightly, hands coming together as his elbows rested against the desk.
"Your first mission as a team will be outside the city."
His tone became more deliberate, structured, each word carrying clear intent.
"Normally, an R6 assignment is considered suitable for beginners of your level, but we will adapt accordingly."
His gaze remained steady as he continued.
"There is a criminal faction operating west of here, targeting and terrorizing the settlers of a village known as Dunkers. Reports have been increasing in frequency."
A brief pause followed as he observed their reactions, assessing rather than simply informing.
"They are called the Blue Thorns, according to the records."
He set the parchment down with controlled finality.
"Stop them. Demonstrate both your capability and your resolve."
Then, slightly softer, though no less firm.
"If the situation proves overwhelming, withdraw. There is no shame in retreat. Do not engage beyond your limits. Understand the difference in strength, endure until you survive it, train in the silence that follows, and return only when you are ready."
The pen clicked softly as it was set aside.
"You are dismissed."
Eric reclined slightly in his chair, the formality easing just enough to feel human beneath the authority.
"And remember… first impressions are always consequential."