As much as Adrien admired Benita's simple style and commitment to the Hired Gun uniform, he couldn't let her be caught walking around the streets of Helsing as she was any longer. In this city, with the constant eyes of the old money folks and their cliques of vicious socialites who would tear down any substandard woman caught in the circle of their kind, he couldn't risk exposing her to that kind of life. He did promise to teach her, but some things that were usual in his life were not meant for Benita's gentle soul.
The first impression one made in their debut into society was by the way they dressed, who their guardian was, and the arsenal of money they had at their disposal. All three had to present to make a decent debut. Benita so far had only two of those; the backing of both Adrien, her godfather, and a fat bank account. However, Adrien doubted anyone knew of her salary, except, of course, those who paid for her services.
Something had to give, he thought to himself as he studied her form up on the dressing podium. She had a lovely, tall and slim figure, and hair was short enough for the current trends. Perhaps a few waves in her hair would make her more suited for society, but then again, her pixie cut on its own made her a darling in his eyes.
He looked through the catalogue of clothes coming from his sister's recent collection, but every piece of clothing advertised was a bit too raunchy for Benita, filled with laces and silks that sought to expose the female body in all the right places.
"Catherine," he called, the seamstress scurrying over to his side.
"What do you think would best suit Benita? I want her to make a proper debut in front of Ms. Orson today, so please, what are your thoughts?"
The seamstress gave a quick glance at Benita, going back to face Adrien with a humble bow.
"She has lovely honey skin with a tan most women would pay for. I think, instead of trying too hard we should simply dress her in basic pieces."
The seamstress went over and picked a blue long-sleeved blouse and a pair of white slacks. She hung them up against Benita's body and said, "I think this would work well with a pair of dress shoes and pearl earrings. I will also add a few hair clips from Lady Jane's recent collection. Is this satisfactory, young master?"
He nodded, "And please, do her make-up."
The seamstress nodded.
That sorted one thing out. Benita's formal debut in front of Clementine would matter most if they were to stay on track for the mission. Despite the warm welcome, Clementine barely considered Benita to be a human, but merely an object of study and curiosity. And, knowing Clementine had plenty friends to spread the news of her new object of study, would spread out rumours of Benita's rough and improper style and behaviour, a mere tool to be used. Adrien wouldn't let that happen and was careful to monitor every inch of Benita's look as soon as she appeared out of the dressing room.
He was satisfied with how she came out, her face slightly brighter and clothes with a subtle edge that made her stand out.
Benita took firm steps towards him, walking with an air of confidence and entitlement. She stood proudly before him, pinning her hands to her hips, and asking, "Do I look good?"
"Good enough," he answered curtly. "We'll have to build you a proper wardrobe and sew a custom dress for the ball. Though I think a suit would be better. Regardless, you must remember that whoever you meet isn't your friend. Don't tell them anything they don't already know about you and don't engage in conversation about politics or socio-economic problems, understand? Keep it shallow and simple."
"I'm not dumb you know. I can have an intellectual conversation sometimes. See! I even know the world intellectual," she smiled, admiring her reflection in the mirror. But Adrien was not having it.
"I never said you're dumb. This is an instruction. You're from Kune, and by default they might ask certain questions about what happened. These kinds of people don't care about your feelings and they're not sensitive to the problems we face. It's better if you just act shallow. Spare yourself and enjoy Helsing."
"That doesn't sound enjoyable to me."
"It's not. But when you're arm in arms with a Vernon, people will find all sort of ways to serve you and make you feel welcomed."
She shuddered at the word, her mouth pruning which caught Adrien of guard. Perhaps he sounded a bit cocky, but he thought he was right. Business with the Vernon's was good, and business with something affiliated with them meant a get rich scheme.
He checked his pocket watch, noting that it was almost noon. Clementine must have already set out the treats for tea and was probably waiting in the garden. He quickly fixed the collar of her blouse, inspecting her one more time.
He could have sworn she looked a little like him, styled in his manner of clothing with branded clothes from head to toe, all from the same designer.
"Shall we?" Adrien said, holding out his arm to her. She gladly took it, and they walked down the halls of the manor and out into the garden.
Across the field of flowers, in an open piece of land sat Clementine, beneath a tree drinking tea.
"Remember," Adrien voiced blandly. "Don't tell her anything people don't already know."
"Got it!"
"And don't choke up. If there's a question she ask's that you don't like, you don't have to answer. You can just politely ask her to move on to the next question."
"Got it!"
He turned to her with furrowed brows, "Are you really getting what I'm saying?"
"Yes," she laughed. "Trust me, I'm smarter than you think."
"That comment is concerning," he sighed. "Anyway, good luck Beni."
He brought her to the table, greeted Clementine and immediately rushed off. He trusted she could do it on her own. Either way there was no way he would stay to listen to their conversation. This was the chance he had to tour the manor and plan the theft of the pearls. But, until he had things all figured, Benita would have to act his distraction till he found a way to get the pearls. He believed she could do it.
*
Benita silently watched Adrien walk back into manor, casually strolling in as the maids went to his side and followed suit. Only the heavens knew what he'd do to them just to get the pearls, but, that was none of her concern. Benita had to stay solely focused on Clementine. It should have been easy, her two subordinates where well on their way to Saiba to meet the Khans, and Adrien had already figured out the locations of half the gems. It should have been easy, to focus on Clementine's creepy cat smile and piercing eye's that never left her for even a second.
Her eyes were the kind that were dead set on crawling into her mind and nestling in her deepest darkness just for a thrill. Bone chilling of course, but not as frightening as Alora's when she woke up.
"Thank you for agreeing to the interview Ms. Kane," said Clementine.
Benita nodded.
"I hope to take things slow so I can get detailed answers. For now, we can set the pace to a question a day and discuss the topic of the questions over the course of a few hours if that's okay with you."
Benita nodded.
"Good. Shall we begin?"
Benita nodded.
"Let's discuss the current model of your revolvers, the Arlecchino M89. What's something you love about them."
Benita took a deep breath and calculated the curated answers she had stocked up for when any client asked. "I'm the first user of the model and its design was specifically catered to my skills. I guess that's what I love about them, they were made for me."
"In what ways?"
"I don't like to prolong killings. I believe in a quick kill and would like to spare my victims of the agony. That's why it's modelled M89. The M stands for mercy, the eight infinity, and 9 my date of birth. M89."
"Really? I heard it was the gun used by the man that saved you from Kune. Word has it that you admired him so much that you wanted to use his model gun."
The classic story of her salvation from the Kunen government. Whoever made that story up must have had too much time to cook it as it was riddled with lies and inconsistencies.
"Well, that's also one of the reasons I love it."
But Benita didn't see the harm in playing along with this story.
"My godfather saved me, raised me, and made me who I am. Having these guns is like having a piece of him with me wherever I go."
Clementine chuckled, jotting down her words. "You make it seem like he's dead."
"Well, when you've seen one parent bite the bullet, you can't help but hold onto the one's you have left."
Benita thought she was going a bit too deep into her answer. It was common knowledge that she was an orphan, but she couldn't explain why she said that to Clementine. For all she knew, she was stranger milking her for answers to her own problems that could turn in a ball of devastation. It was best she shut her thought and stick to the answers she was sure of.
She took a deep breath and said, "I understand you're doing research for your Arms Dealing class, right? Can we move on to a more relevant question."
Clementine nodded, pinching her pen tighter between her fingers.
"An important consideration in arms dealing is the relationship of the gun to the user. It must perform its function according to the specific needs and convictions of the users. What relationship do you have with your guns?"
"For me, the Arlecchino series was made so that guns be used as an ornamental piece used by the elite class. They had no real purpose and were quite difficult to use but were elaborately decorated with jewels and made from weird material. Due to that connotation, the Hired Guns began to request for more models to be made with actual use. People wouldn't take them seriously since they thought they were simply being flashy, but, turned out to be the opposite."
"I see," Clementine said jotting it down.
"M89 was made to fire a rapid succession of bullets while relying on the built-up momentum of the previous rounds. The faster the user can load in bullets, the more powerful each shot is. In other words, their built for speed, so I can kill fast and painlessly."
"Can you describe the events that unfolded when you first used it. Tell me, who did you contract with and how did the kill come about."
Benita had long tucked the memory away, but the more she thought about her guns, the more they came flooding back in.
"A pin was put on ten high school teachers at Milton Boys College, here in Alegria. I snuck in disguised as a first year and carried the gun on my thighs like I still do now. They didn't take issue since a lot of the students carried decorative guns, so I was able to carry them around. After attending a week, I found myself in a gym class with five of the teachers who were assessing our physiques. They asked us to do some odd things and kept, well... there's a reason they were on the sexual offender's registry. Anyway... When they got close enough, I pulled my gun out and fired all six bullets into the air. Obviously, a stampede began as everyone tried to get away. The teachers to ran the fire alarm, but I quickly loaded the gun and shot straight for one of them. the bullet went through three teachers actually and they all died instantly.
"Since my cover was blown. I chased down the rest of the teachers and finished the job, then ran away. Turns out the person who paid me was an ex third year who had been repeatedly harassed by them. But upon speaking up us for himself, parents signed a petition to kick him out of the school for almost ruining the teachers careers as they were apparently really good at teaching."
"I see."
"Anyway. The actual shot wasn't gruesome. I've learned how to make precise shots that don't leave a mess, but I was shocked at how clean the bullets went through. There was barely any blood. It was like they just passed out. I later learned that when the bullets gain more power, they burn. Hence, burning close any blood vessels preventing bleeding."