30th January 3068 (Sunday)
A black car stopped in front of Razak's house, and out of it came a man who appeared to be in his late thirties. He had a black briefcase in his hand, which matched the color of the suit he was wearing.
When he walked up to the gate, it opened automatically. This meant that the master of the house noticed his presence and allowed him the entrance.
"Welcome, master is in the underground training room."
"Thanks, Sam."
After saying that, he walked towards the spiral staircase and climbed downstairs. Unlike how most people would expect it to be, the training room barely had anything of this age.
It was a large spacious room with proper lighting and ventilation through ducts.
There was a punching bag hanging at the center of the room, and several weapons like katana, knives, nunchaku, and battle-axes on the wall.
"It's good to see that you are doing well, Mark."
Mark, who was looking at those weapons, was startled when he heard Razak's voice from behind. When he turned around, he realized that Razak just came out of the shower that was behind him.
"...Though I thought you were still working for MRS."
"Yes, I still am. But this is part of the side job that I do for Villous. You know how hard it is to reject his offers."
Razak smiled in response.
Mark was one of the few men that Villous trusted the most. He was his spy at MRS and the source of information about any new development in the magical societies.
"Anyways, let's talk in the sitting room. Do you want tea or coffee?"
"Man… you have changed a lot"—he walked towards Razak—"Though I don't think I can stay for that long. With two jobs, I barely get time for my family."
"Then I won't insist. Did you bring the pair that I requested?"
Considering the fact that he came here with a briefcase, the answer was obviously yes. But what Razak wanted to convey here was that he would like to see the pair himself.
Mark understood that, so he opened the lock on the briefcase and showed him what's inside.
Inside, there was a pair of formal leather shoes. It looked black but had a brownish shine over its midsole.
"Your new battle MMs"—Mark handed the open briefcase to Razak— "Both shoes have been fitted with one MM each, and they have been designed to suit your movements."
"Thank you," Razak said as he closed the briefcase.
"But the way you are now, will you really be needing those?"
"Yes. Unlike others, my goal isn't just winning… And also, there is that guy from Raitoningu clan who has the habit of going beyond logic."
"Says someone who is beyond logic in every possible way"—Mark turned towards the punching bag— "Anyways, now that my job is done, do you mind if I throw a few punches?"
"Please feel free."
After Razak said that, Mark took off his jacket and hanged it on the wall. He then walked up to the bag and started punching it. As he was doing that, Razak walked to the desk at the corner of the room and placed the briefcase there.
"Back in high school, I was a boxing champion... Thought I would make a career in it, but that damn war forced me to choose a different path in life. I don't regret the choices I made back then, but something feels hollow in me whenever I see a punching bag."
Razak paused when he heard about Mark's past.
It wasn't like he was still stuck in his past, but he still blamed it for his purposeless existence. And whenever he heard people talking about wrong choices they made, only one thing came into his mind: 'at least they were given the choices.'
Despite those thoughts, he didn't say anything because he knew what's trivial to him, maybe a big deal for someone else. So, instead of taking the conversation in that direction, he asked something else that was in his mind for a while.
"Have they discovered who was behind the attack?"
Mark stopped punching and held the swinging bag with both his hands.
"No, nothing. The real aquarium employees were found dead in the staff room, and the road maintenance was because they found the gas pipe leaking."
"And what about the van, were you able to trace where it was from?"
"Yes, but we didn't discover anything there either. The real owner of the van was found dead in his apartment. He was a 72-year-old man who lived alone, and since the murder was done through poisoning, we had no means to trace the murderer."
Razak sighed.
The way they were able to hide the evidence proved that it was definitely someone smart, or at least experienced. And by everything they were able discovered until now, it was clear that whoever it could be, was one step ahead of them.
"Were you able to identify the people who attacked us?"
"Local criminals, every single one of them. None of them went out of the city in past 60 days, and neither of them made an appearance on the public cameras. The police report suggested that they were hiding after being discovered as convicts of robbery… Whoever is behind this, planned it dammed perfectly."
Mark walked to the wall where he had left his jacket and grabbed it back.
"...Though now, Nia is taking care of Alice, and the security around her has been made tighter. We are still looking for clues, but there is barely anything reliable."
"That's alright. Whoever is behind this will obviously show up again. Though right now, he must be rethinking things."
After Razak said that, the two of them walked upstairs.
"I am thinking of retiring from my job at MRS soon, probably once Villous announces his candidacy. We will meet each other frequently after that. Till then, see you."
"Okay, see you then."
Mark walked towards the door, but right when he opened it, he realized he forgot something.
"Also, good luck with the ranking matches. Put on a good show for us."
Razak nodded in response after which Mark walked out.