The door to the past (3)

The door closed with a slight creak of the handle. I immediately felt Edwoyn's gaze settle on my shoulders. There were a thousand questions in his eyes, but he hesitated to ask them. I decided to take the lead " I can guarantee you that she will come back with an answer. However, do not speak to her without my permission. You wouldn’t want the truth to slip away from us when we're so close, would you?"

"Sorry, I was a bit lost. It’s just that I know nothing about these illegal weapons. By the way, why are you interested in them?"

"I check from time to time to see if they resurface on the market. We’ve had quite a few problems with these stupid weapons, and I wouldn’t want it to happen again. Anyway, it’s none of your business."

"I see..."

We waited in deadly silence for the employee to return. Edwoyn tried various tactics to hide his discomfort, without much success. Luckily for him, the woman returned quickly to save him from the situation. Though she hid behind a mask of professionalism, I could detect an anxiety as evident as Edwoyn’s.

"My boss proposes exchanging this information for another of equal value. It’s non-negotiable," she added without flinching. "Do you still want to acquire this information?"

What kind of new transaction is this, out of nowhere?! Since when do intelligence agencies resort to such schemes to extort information from their clients? How indecent!

Everything was supposed to be purchasable with money, be it Life or Death. Our mercenary work was proof of that. Unsurprisingly, her response had deeply upset me. What did she mean by "information of equal value"? Even a fraction of what I held could cause a national catastrophe if released. It could reveal my identity, that of the prince, and trigger a manhunt that would involve the entire royal army. Only a fool would jeopardize a peaceful life!

I wasn’t naive; my information was worth a hundred times more than hers, and I hated the idea of losing out in this exchange. I had to be very careful about what I said to minimize the damage.

As I hesitated, the prince's lips approached my ear stealthily: he suggested a brilliant idea that would never have crossed my mind.

Where did he get this knack for manipulation? Had he finally decided to see the world as I did? Was he trying to understand me, or was he doing this solely to satisfy his curiosity? Spurred on by this good news, I repositioned myself in my seat and played my best card.

"Information of equal value? Here’s one: I’ve heard that the Killer Wind has recruited new members and that they’re going after the 'top tier' people of this country. If you don’t believe me, just wait to see the faces of their victims on the news. The prince was only the beginning. However, know that by then, it will be too late for you because my information will be worthless!" I sang.

Now, it was her turn to be embarrassed.

You’re not as useless as I thought, Nathan.

Such a rumor would make us look like the direct competition of the Revolutionaries. The high-ranking nobles would feel threatened, and the entire court would be scrambling for more details without caring about the cost.

The redhead marveled as if the man of her dreams had just proposed "You said…! Where did you hear that!? Information about them is so rare, I’d even say… non-existent! This has to be a lie, it’s impossible…!"

"Is it a lie if no one can prove otherwise? The Killing Wind is making headlines right now, use your instincts! You won’t fool anyone if you sell this information as a mere rumor…"

"You’re the devil incarnate," she retorted in a grave tone.

"So, do you accept my information?"

"Hmm… No. It’s far from enough. I want to know if you have a concrete way to join this organization. After that, I’ll reconsider my prices."

What nerve! She’s still not satisfied? She really doesn’t want that tip, does she?

"If I had any idea, I would have already sold you that lead, don’t you think?"

"Argh! Why does no one ever know anything when it’s really important? Don’t they ever need to advertise for recruitment?" she fumed. "Never mind. I’ll accept your first piece of information."

"Y-you want to become a mercenary?"

Edwoyn’s question seemed so spontaneous that it could only be sincere. I couldn’t believe it, but his naivety had just broken down the defenses of the most cautious ginger.

A glimmer of hope sparkled in her ocean-blue eyes as she confided "Whether it’s their missions, their worldview, or their professionalism, the Killer Wind has always inspired me. They’re one of the few organizations that invest their money in just causes. I admire their audacity; no one had dared to bring order to the monarchy before them. At least not so directly. You’d have to be crazy to risk your life like that, right? And yet, they do it every day!" she enthused, seeing Edwoyn nod in agreement. "In ten years, nothing has leaked about their identities! It’s like they don’t even exist...! I would have loved to contribute to their cause, but the only thing we know about them is how to send requests."

"Have you tried that?"

The woman bit her lip. "I have, but I didn’t expect much: they only carry out a tiny fraction of the requests they receive, usually the highest-paying ones. They must be bombarded with as many letters as Prince Nathan was, can you imagine?"

At the mention of his name, the boy’s surge of kindness was cut short. Damn, this conversation was becoming ridiculous! The information agent was no longer objective, and my info about the royalty was still pending.

Poor thing, you’re so far from meeting the minimum requirements to even hope to join our organization! That’s precisely why we’ll never recruit strangers, thank goodness!

Our intention had never been to win the hearts of the citizens; on the contrary, we wanted to spread fear. However, fate had decreed that the Killer Wind would win the people’s admiration, just like the late prince.

"Your information will suffice," she resumed in a defeated tone. "The Gasencourts have many enemies, but none would have succeeded in reaching them while they were alive. Rumor has it that Elsmont and Robert Gasencourt caused their own downfall: they supposedly used magic to create a super-army, but their ambition pushed them to cut corners. They allegedly tested this experimental magic on themselves, which made them gravely ill. That’s the most solid theory we have... Whatever they were up to, it wasn’t without involving the Court’s magical research sector. If you want to know more, you should look into their activities; they’re keeping a very low profile..."

The Gasencourts... What a selfish bunch, obsessed with power. This completely absurd theory was fitting for their reputation. They were certainly capable of pushing the boundaries of magic to the point of causing their own demise. Perhaps they were seeking immortality, absolute control, or perfection? There was no doubt that it was every noble’s dream. Even if the lead the waitress was offering seemed lacking, we couldn’t afford to ignore it.

My fake brother implored the ginger, whose hands he had taken hostage "A super-army? What you’re saying makes no sense: why would they get personally involved when they don’t fight on the battlefield?"

Edwoyn was clearly not ready to consider that the rumors might have a grain of truth. It’s hard to believe strangers who disparage your family. But for such a high price, it’s difficult not to believe an intelligence agent.

"But how would I know? You should ask the queen herself! I’m just repeating the information that’s sold to me, sorry if it doesn’t suit you!"

The naive woman had just decided that she had invested too much emotionally with us. After giving my partner a scathing dismissal, she reverted to her neutral facade. I admired her ability to switch from one emotion to another with disconcerting ease.

"So what you just said might be completely false? My fam—"

"Edwoyn. Enough. We got what we came for. Have you finished your meal?" I observed. "Then let’s go."

Edwoyn tensed suddenly. All these strange unspoken words intrigued the ginger.

I knew I should have silenced him! We really should leave…

"Maybe yes, maybe no… Just as we have no proof that you’re telling the truth. Who knows if you’re the ones at a loss?" the ginger suggested to Edwoyn with a challenging tone.

She and I entered into a second round of our stare-off. We tried to read each other, without success. Sure, we were both hiding a lot, but on the other hand, we owed nothing to anyone.

"You have much more to lose than we do. Thank you for your time."

I placed some coins, including the infamous tip, on the table and stood up abruptly. Knowing he was at fault, Edwoyn followed me without protest. He threw one last afflicted glance at his plate, but that wasn’t going to make me feel guilty.

The information agent remained poised until we reached the door of the boudoir. As we descended the stairs, we caught the attention of Suzanne, a cream-haired employee cleaning the counter.

"Thank you for coming to The Breeze of Renewal, we look forward to seeing you again!"

"G-goodbye...?" stammered the prince, caught off guard by her friendliness.

"Don’t waste your time with employees; they’re only courteous for tips. You must understand that you can’t earn the friendship of everyone you meet. That’s not how things work in the city. If you’re kind and naive, they’ll take advantage of you until the last fif."

Friends are just hypocrites who want to be in your place. It's just an additional weakness and a betrayal waiting to happen. Don’t think that family is any better!

Disturbed, the boy didn’t know how to respond to my warning. For the next half hour, he remained very thoughtful, probably reconsidering all his previous interactions with black market vendors.

How could someone be so easy to fool? Were the effects of his years of social isolation remediable? Here was a new point we would need to work on together…

On the way back, I thought about the second employee, that Suzanne woman. Had she been hidden upstairs from the beginning? Was it her break at that time? Whether it was her or the cooks, no one had bothered to lift a finger while a fight threatened to break out.

Everyone stuck to their role, and the receptionist clearly had to handle the mishaps between clients. How pitiful! Our organization didn’t impose fixed roles: we took turns cleaning, studied all requests and victim profiles together… Justine preferred to handle the cooking and shopping in town.

As for me, I always requested the right to interrogate the captives in the basement. For hours, under the dim light hanging from the ceiling, I had explored the human psyche. So many different personalities, yet the same reactions driven by despair. The same breakdowns and the same cries for mercy.

After a certain degree of suffering, they all became irrational and noisy.

On my torture chair, they transformed into puzzles, little treasure chests with combinations I had to crack. Once the lock was broken, they revealed their hideous nature. That was when the possibilities opened up: I had all the time to dismantle their minds with my secret weapon, then reshape them and observe feelings pushed to their extremes. Feelings whose usefulness I would never understand. Thus, I could return to my room with the satisfaction of having harmed those who deserved it…

Being a mercenary was the good life!