"You rarely annoy me, but when you do, you really are annoying, Gill."
Gilbert heard a complaint as soon as he opened the door, walking into the office whose owner was laying on the couch, his eyes closed although he wasn't sleeping. In a second after his words, Gilbert spotted the man; no other but Marvel, yawning to express his long await. Five minutes, to be exact.
"Boss," Gilbert carefully called, sounding hesitant. He waited until Marvel opened his eyes to look at him back as he sensed the need to have a proper conversation.
Marvel's crossing feet inside the shiny black oxford shoes swayed lazily this way and that, his ankles overlapping on the armrest as the couch couldn't afford to contain his tall build. His long and muscular arms under his black suit embraced his chest, entwining above it comfortably. He slowly pulled up his eyelids and finally the ceiling became visible as he put his vision into function.
"Boss, is it really okay to let him in?" Gilbert continued, ready for the seemingly serious talk, although he only got a shrug as an answer. "Are you seriously going to make him stay here?"
Gilbert emphasized. The poor-quality monologue continued due to Marvel's lack of contribution to respond to the questions. At this point, he knew Marvel would hardly listen to anything he said.
Despite being four years older, Gilbert had always been respective toward Marvel as his boss, but according to Marvel's natural performance to pull the strings, he always did things up to his liking, and to a certain degree, Gilbert hated it.
Gilbert was no less than a genius as a person. He used all the capacity of his intelligence to understand Marvel, but to his surprise, Marvel's process of thinking had been every bit as enigmatic as he had feared it would be, no better than arranging mysterious puzzles of different shapes and colors. Most of the time Marvel was calm, but his constant need to erase boredom in what so-called "game" - rough play - made Gilbert frazzled.
"You can't possibly be easy on him, right? I know you have noticed he might be Fillan's spy."
This time, Gilbert worried. Being Marvel's secretary for almost a decade, he knew what kind of person Marvel exactly was.
It had been ten years since he first entered Yerevan's mansion; the same day when the ascendancy and the authority of the Family were fully and legally shifted to the new leader who was just celebrating the seventeenth birthday on the first of January, the name "Gilbert" had been an important figure in the growth of the Family.
He had been the one who knew the most, seeing what others couldn't, though oftentimes, surprised by Marvel's unpredictable way to see things.
Marvel got up from the couch, walking relaxedly toward Gilbert, one of his hands inside his pocket. He stopped when they were becoming close enough, leaving no more than two feet away in between the tip of their shoes. Their gazes were firmly locked, but the conversation didn't continue until Marvel tapped Gilbert's shoulder, causing a stagger in the muscles of the secretary.
"As expected of you, always doing your job seriously. But, how come you can't even remember who is making the decision here?"
Marvel smiled, with that choice of words he did, not allowing the menace to rise, but also not that nice.
"I... remember everything clearly, Boss," Gilbert disagreed, but his voice almost cracked, his eyes almost wavered to afford a steady connection with Marvel's steel blue.
Gilbert knew full well Marvel had always been straightforward about what he had in mind, almost as if he had no capacity to harbor a grudge, though he suspected it was there, perhaps reserved for a certain someone in a certain event.
"It's not like I get mad. Instead, my state of mind has gotten a lot better now," Marvel softly laughed in guilt, tapping Gilbert's shoulder twice before letting it go and turning around. He walked away calmly. "You know I can never be angry at you, right?"
Gilbert frowned at the abrupt change in Marvel's attitude. He felt as if he was given a hollow promise. He was watching that handsome figure in silence, almost weird because there was so much danger unfolding yet.
After a long time, the day when my boss gets excited over something has finally come, Gilbert thought to himself.
Somehow, he knew what would likely happen, but as he had been told already, he wasn't the one making the decision, let alone making it stop from happening, and so he couldn't do much to prevent it.
There was no telling Marvel couldn't have what he wanted. He always got "yes" as an answer from his people to every command, agreeing to whatever he said like he was born with the ability to summon one's obedience.
"By the way, I haven't seen Tanaka today. Where is he, Gill?" Marvel asked and took off his jacket, leaving only a piece of black vest covering his white shirt, neatly buttoned over his broad chest.
"Uh... Boss, what are you going to do to him now? He hasn't recovered since you made his wrist dislocated two weeks ago after a stupid duel you initiat-"
CLACK!!
The doors were pushed a little and there was a man who appeared behind the small gap in between them, causing Gilbert to discontinue his words.
The man appeared to be in his early thirties, actually the same age as Gilbert. His body was undeniably muscular, looking tough and strong, and with the way he styled his hair short and clean, it was easy to tell he was a fighter, a martial artist, a soldier; anything related to physical affairs.
"Oh," the man looked surprised. "Sorry, I opened the door without your permission. I have knocked, but there was no response, so I thought you were not here, Boss."
"Tanaka!" Marvel called out happily for the new member in the room; it was one of the elite bodyguards in the house, Tanaka Yone. "Perfect timing. Gilbert was just talking about you."
"Gilbert?" Tanaka was late to notice another existence in Marvel's office. "Oh... I didn't know he's here."
"Tanaka, show me your wrist," Marvel asked as soon as his expected guest had joined him.
"My wrist?" Tanaka sounded confused, even though he had no complaints about doing Marvel's order. Whatever it was.
Marvel nodded and Tanaka lifted his right wrist hesitantly, still in confusion. Before even seeing it, Marvel rejected it in advance.
"Not that, but the one I broke two weeks ago."
In comprehension, Tanaka turned to his left wrist covered in a black splint. He undid the hook-and-loop fasteners and removed the splint from his wrist so Marvel could see clearly. The swell and bruise there had almost gone, but the bones required more time and treatment to realign.
Studying Tanaka's expression who still could feel the pain, Gilbert took a glance, assuming it would need two or three months to be completely healed.
"Hmm..." Marvel reasoned, humming in a serious tone. "Why does it look worse than when I broke it back then?"
"Boss, it looks much better than two weeks ago," Gilbert rephrased Marvel's shameless comment.
"Even so, Tanaka, good for you, isn't it? You have a caring lover who is looking after you," Marvel ignored what Gilbert said and switched to a different topic.
"Lover?!" Tanaka exclaimed in shock. "W-what are you talking about, Boss?!"
"I'm talking about your lover over there. If I remember correctly, his name is Gilbert," Marvel pointed at Gilbert who deeply sighed and face-palmed, mostly because he wasn't taken seriously by Marvel.
Tanaka, on the other hand, was flustered because his boss wouldn't stop teasing him.
"Recover quickly, alright? I'll be in trouble if I don't have an equal opponent to erase boredom," said Marvel while helping Tanaka put on his splint like he had no regrets.
"Boss, please refrain from beating your subordinates with such an unacceptable excuse," Gilbert hissed under his breath.
"It wasn't actually a beating since Tanaka also hit my face. It was a fair duel," the boss defended himself.
"Whose fault did you think it was? You kept on saying you would fire him if he didn't take the fight seriously," the secretary didn't want to retreat just yet.
"Even so, why my face of all places? It hurt like hell and he pissed me off."
"Boss, I'm so sorry!" Tanaka interfered with the arguments. "I didn't mean to aim your face! I swear! You can punch me for compensation, any part of my body is fine, but please don't fire me!"
"That's unnecessary. Why do you think I broke your wrist, then?" Marvel smiled, his remark made the whole room quiet with gloomy irony.
It wasn't like the bodyguards were weaker compared to Marvel in bodily strength. They just couldn't do anything most of the time because they were more afraid of the consequence than the attack itself.
Gilbert, once again, desperately rendered a deep sigh.
"Boss, why did you even fight your own bodyguard in the first place..."