Two men strolled down the sidewalk of a lively street in the central area of the capital.
"Big bro, you don't need to think too much about it. If the reports are indeed true, I say we pulverize them and come back home." The diminutive young man among the pair said. He jammed his fists together, defrosting the cold air with his determination.
"I'm afraid things won't be so simple this time around." The other, a bespectacled young man spoke. He was slightly under two meters tall with a slender build and youthful charm that every aspiring idol would kill to have.
"Huh? What makes you say so?" The diminutive man inquired, raising a brow, and his brother immediately responded.
"A pairing of you and anyone else would be different but it's strange that HQ would pair us together for a mission like this."
"Huh? How is it strange? Don't we have the best partnership in the whole world?" The petite man leaned closer and inquired with a dumbfounded expression.
"I'm currently taking on only white tagged missions that require the use of my 'Gavel', remember?"
"White tag? What is that?"
"Haaa, Ryuce. For the third time already this week..." The bespectacled man sighed, taking a pause.
"White tagged missions are those that require intensive investigation." He added and a spark instantly appeared above the diminutive man's head.
"Oh, yes, you said this yesterday. Monster related missions are tagged red, right?"
"Hell no, you idiot. Red tagged missions involve subjugating lawless zones, rebel areas and insurgents. Monster related expeditions are classified as yellow tagged missions. " The bespectacled man bickered initially but his voice soon regained its usual tone.
"Heeh? You probably made a mistake yesterday then." Ryuce puffed his cheeks and in response, his older brother shook his head gently.
"No I didn't, you blockhead. And even if I did, this is basic stuff they teach in the pre-academy. How did you even make it past eighth grade?" The bespectacled man paused briefly and cleared his throat.
"Anyways, seeing as I got called in for a yellow tag, it could only mean there's demon grade monsters involved..." He explained, taking another pause.
"And in the worst case, we could be dealing with one of the eleven catastrophes." His voice slumped as he began to ponder about something. On the other hand, Ryuce who initially listened silently soon spoke up.
"Whether it's the eleven catastrophes or apostrophes, I bet they are no match for our ultimate teamwork" He crossed his arms and gave a boastful nod.
"Like I said, things won't be that simple. It's been ages since a catastrophe last appeared here in the continent."
"Oh, is that so? How long has it been, big bro?" Ryuce inquired, his eyes glistening with curiosity.
"Errm, I also have no idea. Probably about forty five years? Or even longer than that, maybe." The bespectacled man said, shrugging his shoulders. Next, his hand reached for the top of his head, brushing his sleek, chestnut hair in a single motion.
"Anyways the appearance of a catastrophe would undoubtedly stir up a fuss among the oldies and higher ups. So if things turn out as I suspect, Corp President would request a meeting with the Vertian big shots to decide on how to proceed. Catastrophes are that big of a deal."
"Oh? As expected of my big brother. You're so damn smart." Ryuce applauded excitedly and his brother's cheeks instantly reddened. Next, the bespectacled man cleared his throat before speaking up again.
"The point is, this mission could eventually spiral into something far more elaborate than you imagined, Ryuce."
"Ahhh. I'll leave all that complicated stuff for you to handle, but…" Ryuce halted as a clattering noise rang out from not too far away.
Startled, they looked across the street and spotted a boy at the bus stop, agitatedly knocking over a waste bin.
Determined to set things straight, the bespectacled man clenched his fist and yelled, "Hey, you there!"
He tried to cross the road but the universe had different plans. A long city bus rumbled to a halt, blocking his path. With frustration soiling his complexion, he waited for the bulky vehicle to take off. And when the bus finally departed, the boy had vanished into thin air.
"Chet." He furrowed his brows and stormed across the street, with his steps reverberating through the pavement. Without a word, Ryuce followed suit, towards the mess of junk and litter in the boy's wake.
The bespectacled man raised the bin and together, they knelt down, picking up the pieces of garbage that littered the snow-covered pavement.
"Kids these days have no manners at all." Ryuce complained, his capelet billowing in the wind.
"You're one to talk, aren't you? You seem to have forgotten how you were quite the troublemaker just a few years ago."
"Hah? I don't remember ever making you do garbage duty though." Ryuce responded, tilting his chin upwards in a daze.
"Yeah, but you got us in far worse situations than this." The bespectacled man wiped the filth off his hands after successfully tidying up the mess.
One could easily mistake him for a pesty eco-warrior but the reality was much deeper than that. He harbored a deep aversion towards disorderliness and all forms of incongruities, a sentiment that always reflected in his choice of attire. This is why he often wore a suit, decorated with the alignment of solar crosses amounting to an even number.
This is the nature of the possessor of the bronze 'Gavel of Astral Imprints.' A man, who attained the position of a General within just three years of becoming an S-ranker.
One of the two leading candidates for the vacant seat at the executioner table. This is the nature of Roman Glurkman.
"Really? Did something like that ever happen?" Ryuce inquired. And Roman shook his head sideways wearing the face of a bankrupt businessman.
"This brat." He said.
"Please tell me, I really don't remember" Ryuce pleaded, however, Roman ignored him and began walking away.
"Well, no. Just forget it."
"Come on bro, please" Ryuce persisted, following behind his brother. And like that, the pair soon dissolved into the landscape, leaving their footsteps trailing behind.
***
He had taken a rejuvenating shower to relieve his day's stress. But the haunting flashes from this morning's incident refused to go away.
With every glance at his reflection, those memories surged back, pulling him into a river of worry.
What was he supposed to do going forward? What if his instincts were mistaken about Ina?— he thought but instantly rejected the uncertainty.
Steering clear of her was all he had to do. But no matter how much he attempted to brush it aside, Beatrice's warning dropped a load of anxiety on his shoulders. His hand, clutching a hairbrush soon began to tremble.
"Ga-hak" Keres wheezed, desperate for air.
Unable to draw his breath, he collapsed to one knee, releasing the hairbrush like it was responsible for his agony.
Twitching, he hastily yanked open the top drawer of his dresser. His eyes darted nervously before locking on a small vial hidden amidst folded underwear. He grabbed the vial and swiftly uncapped it.
The pungent scent of the milky fluid wafted into his nose as he gulped down until the vial was empty. And almost miraculously, his anxiety dissipated, a sudden calm embracing his body.
Although he was still concerned, he wasn't willing to allow the mere threats of a bodyguard ruin his plans.
Right, there was somewhere he needed to be this evening and he couldn't afford any deters at this point.
Usually, whenever he was home alone, he would head to the upstairs living room and play video games. But days like today were different.
He stood up, navigating through his dresser. Then picked out a wool sweater and complimenting denim trousers.
He put on the clothes and headed downstairs fully prepared for the evening ahead.
—