Once I was alone with my colleagues, the Black Widow looked at me with a mocking smile: "Is this what a Luminara does for fun?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. She's not a prostitute; she's a journalist. It was a completely ordinary encounter, but rich in its authenticity."
"Ordinary? She seemed to have made quite an impact on you. What did I say just before she showed up? Cities like this one will make us bitterly regret our lives in Kurokafu. And it's an unnecessary pain that can be avoided. It should be avoided, even."
The Reaper chimed in: "A journalist? Isn't it dangerous to let someone like that get too close to a Kurokafu agent?"
"That's exactly what I thought when she told me what she did. But no, she won't pose any problem to us."
"Good, in any case, it's not our concern," replied the Black Widow as she continued walking. After a few steps, she suddenly stopped: "However, if I hadn't known the right name and she had caught on to us, we would have had to either threaten or kill her. So in the future, be much more careful about the people you involve in your interactions."
She was right—it was incredible that she had been able to read my lips and catch the name I gave her. I'm glad I articulated it clearly because you never know. Maybe that's why she didn't believe me the first time.
"It was impressive that you read my lips just when it mattered," I said sincerely.
In a self-satisfied tone, as if to jab at the Reaper, she replied, "Good thing I'm not someone who blindly follows rules. If I were like you, I would've decided not to get involved, and we would've been forced to threaten or kill an innocent person."
"In life, if you just follow the rules, you limit the damage far more than if you broke them. Even if you broke the rules one time out of ten, the damage would still be much higher than if you followed them to the letter."
"Will you stop parroting what you learn in your brainwashing sessions? It's your humanity that tells you when to break a rule for the best results. But fine…"
"Ridiculous."
"What is this debate even about? Anyway… I'd better cut my stay in this city short tonight. I can't afford to run into her again."
"So you don't care about this woman? No regrets?"
"I'd be lying if I said it didn't sting a little. But it's better to leave while I'm still in control of my feelings. I don't want to get more attached."
"If you need female companionship, there are plenty of beautiful women among the Black Widows just waiting to be won over."
"Never. I wasn't looking for a companion. I just wanted to experience authentic relationships that are different from my everyday life as a Luminara. So there's no point in forming bonds with Kurokafu agents. Besides, no one there is worth spending time with."
"You're missing out on something. But whatever. Reaper? How are you getting back to HQ?"
"A Chameleon has been assigned to me; he's waiting to take me back."
"I don't have the patience to wait for mine, so I'll go with you. Let's all stay in touch in case we need to exchange information."
Our phone numbers during our missions are only temporary. They're destroyed after a week of inactivity. So we exchanged our agent numbers. These were my first contacts.
"Enjoy the rest of your days off. And be more careful with your interactions. Don't let your guard down."
I spent the rest of my leave exploring other cities, this time enjoying the warmth provided by the landscapes rather than the warmth that interactions could bring, for fear of getting attached and becoming unable to work for Kurokafu.
I visited several exhibitions, immersing myself in the local culture. One in particular caught my attention: a modern art gallery. The works on display were an explosion of colors and emotions. There, I met an artist who called himself Bordas, who spoke passionately about his vision and inspirations.
"Every brushstroke is an expression of my soul," he said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"Your work is fascinating," I replied, genuinely impressed. "I've never seen anything so vibrant."
"Thank you. Art has the power to transcend boundaries and touch the essence of who we are."
These interactions with people so different from my everyday life made me realize how vast and varied the world is. Every encounter was a window into an alternative reality, far from the violence and schemes of Kurokafu.
One afternoon, while wandering through an open-air market, I stumbled upon an old bookstore. I spent hours browsing the dusty shelves, marveling at the literary treasures it held. The owner, a friendly old man, shared a few anecdotes about the authors of his books with me.
"It's rare to see young people interested in classic literature," he said, handing me a copy of *Crime and Punishment*.
"I find there's something fascinating about these timeless stories," I replied.
He nodded, a benevolent smile on his face. "Literature has the power to transport us to different worlds, to make us reflect on our own existence."
These moments of quiet and reflection were precious. They offered me a welcome break from the constant turmoil of my life as a criminal.
The contrast between normal life and the one in the shadows of Kurokafu is striking. But this organization, with all its darkness, is my true home. At the end of the two weeks, a Chameleon came to pick me up directly from my hotel room. As soon as I got into the car, I left behind the fictional life I had created during my leave. The Chameleon took all my fake documents and my phone, placing them in his glove compartment.
The return was marked by a feeling of regaining a part of myself that had been left in suspension. The feelings and pleasures I experienced during those two weeks seemed like they had happened years ago.
In the mountains, during inspections, the book I had been given at the bookstore was thoroughly examined. After several minutes, they concluded that it was a normal book, with nothing suspicious or hidden messages. So they returned it to me.
As soon as I arrived, I was summoned to the operations room. I was surprised. A few faces belonged to those who were present in Azplent. And here I thought I was the only one. In the end, Kurokafu is never really far away. There were about thirty of us, and we were all subjected to an extremely thorough search. No devices, nothing was allowed in the room. We even had to change clothes, probably to avoid any hidden bugs.
The operations room was very similar to call centers, but there were no windows. There was a giant screen, with an Argiope on the line, and plenty of "cabins" where we had to sit. At our disposal, we had a noise-canceling headset with a microphone and a screen. A member of the Misumena Vatia assigned us our seats, following a very precise order. No one was placed randomly.
Once everyone was seated at their stations, the large screen lit up. An Argiope began to speak.
"Good morning, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed your vacations. The return is going to be intense or quiet, depending on the field agents. As rumors spread quickly, I think most of you are already aware. In two days, Kurokafu is going to annihilate Azplent, with no mercy. Your role is simple: you'll see a number in your cabin. This corresponds to the number of the Reaper you'll be following. The Reaper you'll be following will, of course, be deployed to the location where you conducted your reconnaissance mission. You'll simply need to answer the Reaper's questions and let them know if there are any traps or other places they shouldn't miss. Since several of you will be in communication with the Reaper, make sure not to all speak at once. Any questions before we conclude?"
Of course, no one dared to speak. Kurokafu doesn't like agents who ask too many questions, especially when they don't have much to do. Suddenly, someone entered the Argiope's room. It was a person in a TRD uniform. They handed a paper to the Argiope and left.
"Since there are no questions, we'll wrap this up."
At that moment, the sound of locks echoed throughout the room.
"Until the operation is over, no one leaves. You have two days to reread your report if you wish, exchange useful information with each other, or simply rest again."
It was predictable. No one seemed to flinch. We are Luminara; whether we're confined for two days or a few weeks, it doesn't change our daily lives.
"Just before we end this meeting, I've been ordered to pass on this message: If, in Azplent, someone helped you in some way, identify them and give as many details as possible so they can be recognized. These people will be spared and, if possible, heard. Depending on their actions, they will be rewarded, in addition to keeping their lives."
In the hierarchy, no one can give an order to an Argiope, not even another Argiope. So this message comes from Kurokafu, the leader. As for me, no one helped me, so it doesn't concern me.
As the hours passed, the concept of time seemed to disappear. I picked up my report to read it again in its entirety. During this rereading, agents with the same Reaper as me came over to discuss. The more we talked, the more I realized that they were much closer to me than I would
have imagined. We didn't even know we all belonged to Kurokafu. And since I was the highest-ranked among us in Azplent, I could very well have executed one of them… What would have happened to me if I had made such a mistake? Would I be considered a traitor, or would that action be seen as an occupational hazard?
Asking myself such pointless questions gets me nowhere. We continue exchanging endlessly.
After some time, the Misumena Vatia distributes our food: standardized and unvaried rations, known and commonly used within Kurokafu. The portions are served in sealed metal containers, easy to store and transport. The meals consist of a type of compact pâté made from reconstituted meat, accompanied by dehydrated vegetables which, once rehydrated, offer a slightly rubbery but edible texture. Each box also contains a portion of starches in the form of a nutritious porridge, designed to provide sustained energy in high-stress situations.
The meals are accompanied by small packets of condiments: a spicy seasoning to add a bit of flavor, and a powdered seasoning that attempts to mimic a more complex taste. Once heated, these rations are served with sturdy plastic utensils, designed to withstand repeated use in various conditions. Most agents seem accustomed to this type of food, consuming it without a second thought for the culinary shortcomings. For us, practicality and nutrition far outweigh taste.
While waiting for everyone to serve themselves, I take a moment to examine the contents of my box, reminding myself that these rations are designed to maximize efficiency and durability rather than culinary pleasure.
Slowly, the agents fall asleep one by one, creating a striking contrast between the initial bustle and the growing tranquility. Some sleep peacefully, their regular and calm breathing betraying a serenity achieved despite the circumstances. Others, however, struggle to find sleep; their restlessness is palpable, their movements hesitant, and their eyes closing with difficulty. Perhaps they are stressed by the situation or tormented by painful memories, echoes of a troubled past that prevent them from relaxing.
I observe them silently, unable to help but reflect on the nature of their stress. Tonight, everything seems to accentuate the underlying tensions, the creaking of the chairs and the muffled whispers in the room amplifying the prevailing melancholy. The contrast between the functionality of the rations and the emotional turmoil of the agents highlights the harsh reality of our existence.
I eventually fall asleep myself.
The next day, it is the Misumena Vatia who wakes me. Everyone else was already awake; I was the only one still sleeping. He takes me to a separate room, and there, it felt like a detention center.
The walls were covered in gray metal panels, dimly lit by bleak fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room was a large plexiglass window, dividing the space into two sections. On one side, there were metal chairs arranged in rows, while on the other side, a concrete table and a chair were set up near the glass. The light emitted by a neon bulb directly above the table cast a cold glow over the entire space.
Through the glass, one could see a rather austere room with bare walls and minimalistic furniture. There were no decorations, nothing to soften the atmosphere. The plexiglass was slightly tinted, giving the impression of being in a dramatic film scene where visitors converse with inmates. The only perceptible noise was the faint hum of the lights and the occasional clicking of security devices.
When the window opens through a small trapdoor at the bottom, a metallic rumble echoes through the room, breaking the tense silence. The Misumena Vatia guides me to a concrete table glued to the window. There, the same Brown Widow stands across from me, with that same provocative aura.
I take a seat on the metal chair, the sound of the metal scraping the floor amplifying the heavy atmosphere. I grab the phone integrated into the window and start the conversation.
"What are you doing here?" I ask directly.
"I'm leaving for Azplent Hideout Number Two in two hours. I came to say goodbye."
"That's the hideout where I was… We don't have any affinity. Tell me what you really want, and why you're here."
"You can be so cold! Were you like this with Julia too?"
I stare at her, my frustration growing at her unexpected presence. Her way of speaking seems almost out of sync with the situation.
"No, seriously. I really came to say goodbye. You never know if we're going to come out alive from this kind of mission. I have to open the way from the inside for the Reaper who will attack the hideout. And I could be caught and killed at any moment."
"I see. Forgive my reaction in that case. If you have a will or something to pass on, feel free to."
"Hmm. I thought we didn't have any affinity?"
"Yes, but we can still do each other favors as colleagues."
"Hmm… I noticed that your hands were stained with ink at the hotel. Are you writing a book?"
"Yes, I'm recording everything. Every detail I can remember."
"Hmm. My last wish, if I die, is for you to mention me in your writing."
"It's already done."
"Oh? How do you present me?"
"As you are, a simple Brown Widow."
"Do I have a distinctive feature?"
"Yes, it's fine."
"It's fine? Alright, I'll believe you."
"The Reaper who was with us, do you have any news about him?"
"He's on a mission too. He should start and finish tomorrow, just before Kurokafu's assault."
"Hmm, I see."
I realize that the Misumena Vatia has remained there, motionless, observing the scene like a guard. It really feels like I'm in a prison, but I understand the need for such precautions.
"How come you're here? This place is supposed to be isolated."
"Oh, you can write about it in your memoirs. The Brown Widows are pampered by the Kurokafu leader. We get special treatment, and as a result, we have some privileges due to our status."
I knew the Brown Widows had advantages, but to this extent?...
"Well, I'm going to go, but I have one last question."
As I wait, she stares at me with a strangely seductive smile. "Are you going to write about this exchange?"
"As soon as I get the chance, yes."
"Haha, don't forget anything, Luminara."
With those words, she stands up and leaves the room. The Misumena Vatia escorts me back to the departure room, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the silent hallway.
END OF CHAPTER