Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The employee struck again and again, never stopping.

It could be defined as hacking, or perhaps stabbing.

In the corner of his chest was a medal, showing the whole world his rank. It was a sign of the sacrifices he had done. It was an acknowledgement to the losses he had suffered.

What had once shined as joy and vigour in his eyes had now dulled. The gleam of hope had already vanished.

What was the meaning of this war?

Was it the interests of multiple Wings clashing against each other? If so, were the interests of the many employees who were fighting for their Wing part of them?

If you truly want to reach your goal, you shouldn’t let your employees hold you back. If the sacrifices must be made, then see them as losses that were a useful resource for your cause.

And yet, it would be nice if they were.

For this employee, there is no desire or wish he seeks anymore. Not as he destroys and slices the hearts of his enemies. Not as he drags his weighing arms along with him. Not as he lets them crash down on the mountains of bodies.

The passion he once showed whenever he saluted has left no trace upon its leave. It was only a short time ago, yet, for this employee, the memory seemed to be from long, long ago.

His mind, battered and torn from the many weighs of regret, left him no solace.

For the only solace was the simple solution he told himself. That burying his emotions amidst the bloodshed was the right thing to do. Or so it seemed.

Very well.

It is for your own sake, is it not?

Then it is the right thing to do.

I wonder if things would be different had you done the same thing. Or if you hadn’t. If you had spoken up about it… Have you ever done something for your own sake?

If you let your passion clash with an undeniable truth, with the gore and pain of war, it is expected for it to cause you harm. It is expected for this employee to lament in his mind and for his expression to remain hopeless.

Manager. It is you who should find a way to work with it.

…

“Dante. You seem a little confused. Is the new mechanic of Uptying the Identities that much of a conflict to you? Faust can explain it to you again.” Faust’s words brought the Manager back to reality. They simply shook their head, trying to get rid of the images they had seen. And the voices they had heard.

<Uh… a bit. But it’s okay. I think I can get the hang out of it.>

Faust looked at Dante for another while before nodding slightly. Whatever she wanted to say, she decided to keep it to herself.

What a strange thing that was. Dante wasn’t sure whether they should mention it to Faust. After all, she hadn’t said that a voice would appear and tell them a story.

Chapter Text

 “Please, come forth and state the corporate entities that were involved with you in the war.”

The words of the presiding judge were precise and sharp, not allowing any excuses from the employee.

“…… F Corp. as well as E Corp.”

The presiding judge let time fly amidst the court room, as if expecting another answer. Or perhaps a continuation to the list. Yet, the judge was met with silence.

“… Any others you forgot to mention?”

Annoyance struck the employee upon the realization that there was an expected answer that had to come out of her. One that would have her in danger.

“… The old L Corp.”

The presiding judge did not seem surprised by her answer.

“Know that what you’ve just testified is a sign that you fought alongside the culprit of the war, of the one commencing it. Do you admit your words holding truth?”

“Your honor, I was but following G Corp.’s orders as a loyal employee-!”

Even if what your manager orders seems wrong, it is expected to follow it precisely and with care. You will never know what plan they had in mind, or what freedom they searched with their doings. So, until you know the truth, follow.

“Manager Outis.”

Irked that the employee had spoken out of turn, the judge lifted a hand as a sign for her to refrain from interrupting.

“… Manager Outis. The war has come to an end. It was your side that won. Your Wing obtained what it sought: energy from the byproducts of the smoke that could last decades in its use.”

“By all means, this court is not held to hold you responsible, less to punish you. Do you understand?”

“As if.” Was the only thought the employee had upon the judge’s words.

By simply winning the war, G Corp. had not spread its influence to the whole City. For that is not how it worked.

Rather, a problem arose: Seeing how the war involved the inextricably linked interests of several, if not most, Wings, the victor needed a justification.

That alone resulted in an easy solution. The most obvious move for a company is to appear as innocent as can be in the public eye. And for that, reprimanding an easy target was the way.

“… As such, I will be thrown to the wolves.” Was the right conclusion she took.

“… I understand, your honor.”

Was it not you who suffered such end? Was it not you who took the blame, not only by her words but by your own thoughts? Was it not you who made yourself responsible? Who punished you?

It is easy to conduct the blame on the weak, much more so if you think yourself as the weakest. Only the truly vile people find pleasure in seeing them struggle and cry in agony. And only the desperate find peace in seeing themselves struggle and cry in agony.

Manager. It is you who should watch over it.

…

Once again, the voice rang out to them.

What was the goal behind it? What was the meaning of the words spoken to them? Why did they have to look at these stories?

Shaking their head in exhaustion, the Manager looked at Gregor before looking to Outis.

The words of the voice had no real meaning for their stories, right? It only spoke of what happened there, not of what was happening or will happen, right? Thoughts were running rampant in Dante’s head, no answer in sight.

It was a simple voice that brought them back. A simple move from Mephistopheles.

“Dante, lead the Sinners outside. It’s time to refuel the bus.”

Chapter Text

“Damn it. I ought to say something soon…”

The employee muttered to herself, biting her lip till it nearly bled.

For a long time, her heart had filled itself with frustration. One that seemed to grow with each passing day.

Her director, the one she worked under for some time now, was pushing unrealistic goals onto her, ones she could not hold up with forever. To make matters worse, her coworker’s temper was unsuited for this Association’s line of work.

“Ugh…”

While nursing an opened wound, the employee could not hold back a groan. Perhaps there was more behind it than a sound made out of pain.

Many people in the City could sympathize with her woes, all of which were gathered with the experiences she had in the City.

Even after she managed to acquire her Fixer license, the jobs and chores she took on were odd and seemingly the lowest kind of work she could do. It all seemed inefficient and unreasonable for her, a Fixer of the Shi Association. 

And yet, those lowly duties were by all means no easy task. Even if it should be.

It was clear for every Fixer that their hands would get dirty with blood, it was a silent understanding, but even then, there were things they’d rather avoid. For their own good.

For most people, the first time they have blood on their hands is the time they realise it will become a constant. At one point, they grow tired of seeing it every day, trying to wash it away. Yet, if your work calls for it, you should push away your morals and do as you must.

And it was this employee who had to complete these undesirable tasks.

Perhaps that was the reason she had been able to join the Shi Association.

It was after she woke up in the hospital bed after a life-threatening mission, one she had barely managed to get out from with her life, that she found the recruitment letter at her bedside.

“… Though I had never expected to meet the director like that…”

She flinched slightly when a loud voice was heard from the other room.

“- I said!!”

The voice was full of raw rage, something the employee had never imagined hearing from her director. It was astonishing how loud her voice could be when she decided to show her hatred soul.

“Are my juniors not in enough agony? And thou wish to order such ridiculous issues nonetheless?”

The employee, struck with curiosity, carefully pressed her ear against the door. The voice from the other room became clearer.

“’Tis against my every will and wish to reprimand my good men, ones who fight with a heart full of rage. Dost thou have any idea how much it tortures me to give them empty words of praise!?”

“…”

The employee’s mind swirled with irritation at her directors’ words. And yet, it gave way for different thoughts.

She took quiet steps back towards her quarters.

“I believed myself to be quite the experienced Fixer by now. I guess I was wrong. I haven’t changed all that much.”

It was a conclusion the employee had just arrived at.

“… Fhuu…”

The employee let out a deep sigh. This cycle would not be broken for a while.

Her words made me remember you. Because you knew of the struggles in the City. You had seen it with your own eyes, like any of us. And it was you who tried to make a change, despite everyone telling you it was not possible.

How much are you able to push a bleeding person into battle before they break down? How much are you willing to tell them to drag their dying bodies till the enemy is defeated? How much are they willing to bleed?

Manager. It is you who should decide what is best.

…

It was the third time that Dante had heard the voice. It was again after Uptying an Identity of the Sinners. At this point, they were sure it wasn’t just a coincidence of sorts. No, it must be something activated by it. And Faust may know about it.

Unsure, the Manager decided to approach the stoic woman. It was her who explained everything to them, after all.

<… Uhm…. Faust? Can I ask you something?>

The woman looked at them before nodding lightly. “I will answer your questions, Dante. What is it you wish to know?”

The Manager hesitated for a second. They couldn’t just outright say that they heard voices. Who would believe them? It had been just for a little while since they all embarked in this bus together, and no one really seemed to get along quite well.

<… Do.. these… Uptied Identities have something… special about them? Maybe?>

It was unsure whether Faust really heard the nervous ring in their ‘ticks’. If she had, she wasn’t letting it show. She simply nodded.

“Of course they have, Dante. For once, as you might have seen yourself, the power balance of the Identities heightens whenever it is Uptied. However, that is just a small thing among much. If we want to take into consideration-“

<I think that’s enough. Thanks.>

It was better to cut her off before she spoke about things Dante did not understand yet. Apparently, though, the voice was not something she had thought of. Or mentioned.

So, then, there is no harm in it. After all, it’s just a voice. It couldn’t possibly have some influence in the real world, right?

Chapter Text

“Gh-! What did I say?! Thrusting is useless when you do it in the enemy’s face!”

The smaller employee swiftly dodged the long blade her opponent swung at her head.

Even if not enemies, there was a brutal violence behind each move; even if they were not training, words of advice were given to the other.

This display was a regular occurrence between the two, which was the reason why no one saw the need to step in. It was better than to deal with the brittle temper of the man.

What may seem like a little, regular fight between employees or even friends can develop into something more. It can deepen into a hatred, a loathing or a natural instinct to hurt the other. When the line is crossed, there are few who have enough insight to step backwards.

“Hey-! Ouch, why don’t you keep still?!”

The employee had no reason to shy away from yelling and complaining. His blade swung in many directions, yet it never seemed to hit his opponent.

“You’re an assassin! Assassinate! Just how did you manage to join us?!”

The ginger employee seemed to get fed up with his lack of skill and his complaints, continuing to dodge his attacks with no major difficulty.

“… You…”

There was a stunned silence coming from him, even if only for a moment. He knew her words, the way she insulted. And yet, he always managed to gain more anger and hatred with every conversation he had with her.

“If there are no witnesses, it’s considered an assassination. What else is there?!”

It was her turn to seem stunned, her silence prominent in the air. Her eyes were wide, looking at the other in shock. She was never one to underestimate the bitterness or hatred people could carry. Given that, she must be shocked because-

“Wow. To think you’d ever say that aloud…”

…

She must be stunned by the employee’s incompetent answer.

She pondered over his words for a moment before gritting her teeth. Throwing her hands in the air, she turned away to walk off in frustration.

“You want to know something? I’m done with this. I’ll talk with the director.”

“Oi, wait a second- hey!”

Despite his words, the ginger employee ignored him completely and disappeared from his sight. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. He looked up at the sky, uttering to the wind his own feelings.

“Tch, as if I don’t know I’m not fit for this work… yet I need to earn my keep somehow…”

This employee has his own pile of woes, his own regrets and wounds.

Just the way you had. And yet, you never thought of talking instead of acting.

There is sometimes a subtle and fragile line between hatred and care. What once seemed like an act of care could be an act of hatred, and what once seemed like an act of hatred could be an act of care. If you want your connections to work, you need to express yourself without subtle meanings, Manager.

…

It was almost becoming something they could get used to. Getting Identities, Uptying them and getting told a story based on the Identity. And it was always the same voice.

Although their memories weren’t the best, admittedly, it was still clear that the voice was… giving advice. In a way.

But, was it really? Dante could never really tell whether it was advice or reminders.

As they sat in their bed, they had enough time to ponder over this new story.

There was always a part in the end, the whispered words, that… didn’t fit the story. Nor the message. Was the voice still talking to them? It had to.

<Ugh…>

The Manager held their head. It hurt to think about so many things when they couldn’t remember anything from the City. Or anything in general. And asking Faust was more difficult than they anticipated.

Telling themselves that they could think about this story later, when the first rays of sun hit their face, the Manager closed their eyes and rested their mind.

Sleep would solve their current problem: the headaches.

Chapter Text

There was one thing that always stood out about this employee.

She was one that expressed joy with laughter, someone that enjoyed listening to silly jests. More than anyone did.

And yet, now was not one of these times, for the true nature of this employee wasn’t bright smiles or laughter.

There is no real harm in hiding your true self, if you deem it a safe thing to do. And yet, with time, your sense of safety might corrupt into the need to mask yourself. There are many who like hiding behind a mask for fear of being rejected.

Giving others kind smiles, treating them with friendship… this was but a way of easing her heart.

It was a way to make taking lives easier.

The employee was a master with her blade, letting it swing in a swift motion. Before anyone can notice, her sword parted the body of its victim.

During the ordeal, there was no expression on the employee’s face.

No joy, no sorrow, no regret. There was no smile to give, no tear to shed.

However, the moment the employee will meet her colleagues, she will paint her face.

She will laugh and she will jest, as if there is no woe to her heart.

Without a doubt, no one knows.

No one sees what the employee looks like when she is on a job by herself.

With time, you requested to work on things by yourself. I didn’t think any of it at first; you were as cheerful as ever. I realised too late what you had really felt.

It is not exactly wrong to hide your true self behind a mask; to conceive other people of who you really are. For something to work, oftentimes there is a need to walk on neutral ground to appease as many people as possible. Manager, you should be careful of what you want to show.

…

It was harder to focus on the story of these Identities when it was almost time to fight. Of course, the Manager hated to Uptie them moments before the fight started, but sometimes, there was no time to do it beforehand. Like right now.

They didn’t know whether to focus on the new information, on the words whispered into their ears (which… their head didn’t really have ears, as Dante noticed) or on the upcoming battle.

Sure, these… strange creatures weren’t exactly hard to defeat, at least not in a sense of impossible, but… with how the team was supporting each other… there were more deaths than the Manager really wanted.

Which was why everyone decided to rest for a few seconds and discuss the next move before charging headfirst into battle.

But, in reality, Dante wasn’t even included in the discussion. The Sinners were mostly talking to each other (with Outis and Ishmael taking initiative). That was it. Dante wasn’t asked. They knew they weren’t the best Manager (hell, they couldn’t even remember anything before waking up in that dark forest), but wasn’t it their job to lead these employees? Wasn’t it their job to discuss plans, reassure the others and instruct them on what to do?

Right. The voice.

Didn’t the voice in these Uptie stories always give advice? How could Dante possibly follow that advice when no one was listening?

However, who could tell whether that voice was giving good advice? Sure, nothing sounded too ominous or menacing, but it didn’t mean that no one would be affected by it.

So, in that regard, shouldn’t Dante-

“Dante.”

Faust’s stoic voice brought the Manager back to the present. Quickly, they directed their gaze to the Sinner.

<Ah- yes? Oh, right, the plan->

“Some Sinners need healing before we go into battle. You should turn the clock once again.” Faust didn’t even let them finish, instead opting to tell the Manager her intentions. Faust wasn’t really someone to ask for opinion anyway. It wasn’t surprising.

Dante was reminded again by their prior thoughts.

Perhaps they were more useful as some sort of… nurse or doctor, then. If no one really asked for their opinion (for a good reason).

Dante didn’t want that. The thought of being only here to revive them again and again… depressing.

With that said, they closed their eyes and focused on the star again.

Chapter Text

The employee had nothing left anymore. Too much was lost. Too much was abandoned.

She had lost her right eye, her colleagues, her workplace, her trust and her hope. Many more things could be listed.

... Many more things had vanished.

It was not the outcome I had intended.

“The job here is done. I will return now.”

The employee reported in a short manner to the transmitter before placing it back in her pocket.

Through the eye she had left, she observed the scene before her. A dead person, split in half, lied on the cold pavement floor of the Backstreets. The body was flooded with a blue light, blinking and flickering in the alley.

“Do you know…?”

The employee began asking someone who couldn’t reply. Not expecting an answer, the employee continued all the same.

“Do you know when Faust’s efforts will be recognised?”

… There was no one to acknowledge her laments. There was no one to lend her an ear.

“When will I be free of the stains from the Wing I had worked for?”

There was one thing she hadn’t lost. It was her tie to… the fallen Wing. To the old… L Corp. The fact that she had worked for the company I had formed…

“What reason is there that I am still alive? That I survived that living hell?”

No answer was given to the employee.

“Does anybody need me? Is there a place where my help is needed?”

Still no answer was given to the employee.

“Was there anyone else who survived the burial? What meaning lied behind those shining night and gloomy days?”

There lies more reason behind it than you could imagine. I could tell you. And yet… I shouldn’t. Not yet.

The employee let out a sigh. It was a loud sound in this silent place.

“… There is nothing I can know. Nothing Faust can know.”

The employee left the small corner of the alley.

... Perhaps I could have-

…

The Manager stared blankly at the wall while they were taking yet another break. It was one they needed after witnessing Aya’s death. After Hopkins had betrayed them.

While the other Sinners were discussing (or rather arguing) over what steps to take next, Dante took the time to think over the new story they had received.

It was definitely an Identity of Yuri, no questions asked. Faust did look like Yuri there, after all. And she had also worked for… that Wing. L Corp., if they remembered well.

It brought questions up. Till now, the Identities didn’t have much of a  connection to anyone they met (besides those bug soldiers, and even then it wasn’t really such a strong connection). And yet… this Identity… portrayed Yuri. How could that be possible? Dante hadn’t thought about the possibility of some Identities resembling directly people they met. It was baffling.

As much as they wanted to know more, it was just too complicated to understand right now. There was too much information that they had to think about and digest. They couldn’t just ask Faust (especially since she would explain it in a way Dante wouldn’t understand).

But that wasn’t all.

This time… it had felt different.

There had been no observation about the Identity. Not a direct one, at least. And there also had been no advice at the end.

The whispered words have been… different.

They had sounded strained, unsure and hesitant. As if whoever was telling them the story was having problems doing so.

They tapped their fingers against their arm, thinking over the story again.

Right, the voice had said something peculiar. What was it again?

Something about… Hmm… It was about-

“Executive Manager!”

Dante almost jolted at the loud voice yelling for them. Once they turned their head, Outis looked at them with an annoyed look.

“This Sinner won’t comprehend what needs to be done! Do I have the permission to give him a lesson?”

“You ain’t going to give me a lesson, lass. I sure as hell won’t listen to some snarky ass person who thinks she’s better than everyone else.” Heathcliff was quick to reply to her, gritting his teeth while doing so. It seemed as though he was about to kill one of the Sinners again.

Dante almost let out another tired sigh. Perhaps they could try and explain in just what pain they were whenever they had to revive someone? Maybe?

The Manager quickly gave up the thought though. It would be useless against these people. At least for now.

With a silent reminder to think about the new information later, they walked towards the group that was waiting for them.

Chapter Text

“Hehahaha!”

The employee laughed loudly. From the tone alone it was easy to tell he had the thrill of his life, as gory as this was.

“Next one! Keep them coming!”

His gun kept blasting bullets ruthlessly at his targets.

A wide grin adorned the face of this employee, not showing any disgust at the blood that splattered on his face and clothes. He kept firing bullets as if his finger was glued to the trigger.

There is nothing wrong with acting careless sometimes, as long as you know you can handle the outcomes. For example, there are many people who have toxoplasmosis, and yet, not everyone will act out in dangerous situations, no matter how much they may wish for risks.

“Ammo’s spent!”

As the gunfire seemed to cease, the employee threw the empty gun directly at his enemy. The hot metal of the gun quickly ignited their clothes.

“If my paws won’t plough through the grass, then I’ll just struck with my teeth!”

Quickly, the employee unsheathes his knife and dashes. Hopping towards them like a rabbit, he tears the flesh of his foes till only rests of their bodies remain.

“Damn… I’m loving this suit! I feel stronger already!”

The hearty laugh and his gleaming eyes suggest that he had become intoxicated with the suit. However, even if the bloodshed doesn’t seem to be any concern to the employee, he seems to be fine. The job is done, so everything must be fine.

I remember working with R Corp. for the first time. The Rabbits always seemed to have a love for fight, as if there was a voice calling to them. Since they mostly did their job good, there was no reason to stop working with them, no matter how many employees we might have lost because of it.

I shouldn’t need to say this, but there are times where it is necessary to take a few risks to ensure that the mission succeeds as wanted. With your line of work, it will be useful to remind yourself of what you can risk and what you can’t. So, Manager, do not rush into things you can’t handle.

…

Did… the voice really need to say this? Just after what has happened?

They were all back on board of Mephistopheles again, just after they failed to retrieve the Golden Bough. Just after they had witnessed the death of Yuri.

Vergilius had been quick to chew out the group, including Dante. But, after all, it wasn’t like Dante had really done anything there.

And there was the thing with Gregor’s mother. And whatever Hong Lu and Yi Sang had with the other two people. It was too much to handle, especially with the information they were now provided with.

So, Dante sat on the bus seat, their head in their hands. This… felt all so depressing. So hopeless even.

Directing the Sinners in battle was complicated (mostly also because they didn’t really listen or cooperate with one another), there was the thing with the Golden Boughs, their lost memories, the voice and now they had an enemy? It was just too much to handle at once.

They wanted to ask Faust about things, but she was busy talking to Vergilius. For whatever reason. The other Sinners were mostly silent, though it was pretty obvious that Rodion, Gregor and Sinclair were feeling sorrow after Yuri’s death.

Of course they did, they promised her to ask Vergilius for a place in the company. They promised her that she can teach Charon how to read a map. They promised her hope for the future.

Of course, Dante had somewhat seen a few deaths already (or rather, Aya’s death and the Sinners), but those didn’t feel that… impactful compared to Yuri’s.

Yuri’s death was one that had crushed their hopes.

They’d been so close to the Golden Bough, and now both things were lost. How could they recover from that blow? It seems that this would happen more often in the future. They had to be ready.

And then there was the voice again.

Apparently, they had been working with R Corp. Dante didn’t know much about that, mostly just that it was some army or at least soldiers that were trained for war and other conflicts. Sounded dreadful.

It would certainly be useful to know a little bit more about R Corp. And yet, Faust was busy talking to Vergilius and they doubted that the Sinners would really like to talk. Not all of them seemed as social as Don Quixote or Rodion.

However, Dante had an idea.

They carefully stood up (not entirely trusting Charon’s driving skills yet) before walking towards the group of the Sinners, specifically Outis.

Once they stood beside her, they cleared their voice.

<Uhm… Outis? I’d like to ask something.>

It appears as though she was a bit surprised, but she was quick to come to conclusions.

“Is it because of the horrendous performance of the others back in the facility?” There was an audible ‘hey!’ from Heathcliff and a few glares from Ishmael, but Outis ignored them.

“Clearly, they need more training. If I may suggest, I alone suffice to-“

<No, actually, I am a bit curious about R Corp. Do you know anything you can tell me about?>

She seemed a bit dejected by their words, but quickly recovered and maintained her professional appearance. Actually, she seemed a bit satisfied.

“Ah, of course. I know a bit about it. I’d be happy to explain what I can. So, firstly, the gist of R Corp. is to-“

Dante would regret listening to the whole rant about the Corporation, but it provided much information (as confusing as it sometimes was).

Chapter Text

It all started because of simple curiosity. And so did the notes.

“The architecture of R Corp. is by far strange. Most of the time, a Nest bears similarities to the ones in its vicinity, and yet, I can’t point out any similarity between the buildings from R Corp. and its neighbours- J Corp., S Corp. and T Corp.”

“More so… its design seems to resemble W Corp. more than any other. I tried finding answers in the City or the Library, yet couldn’t find anything. It seems like no one really knows why.”

“For that, I write this journal to find and document the answer.”

There are many people who like to write things down into a diary or a journal. It can be because of professional reasons, like this employee, but also because of personal reasons. Remembering moments from the past is something of value for most.

The employee took a moment to ponder, looking at her journal.

“… There had to be an R Corp. before this one.”

It was a conclusion she was certain about.

The employee began wondering what Singularity the old R Corp. possessed, and more importantly, why they had to close.

To find answers, she had to trace its tracks back to the past.

“Ngh…… to find any answers…. I will need to find any information about the old R Corp.”

The employee trusts herself to find a lead to her goal, for she is sure she will find what she is seeking.

I could tell you what it is. What the old R Corp. had as a Singularity and why it closed.

However, now is not the time to discuss it. Maybe another chance will show itself to talk about it.

“Agh… Alright. N-Now to the next location…”

Right now, we should focus on the employee who swallows her painkillers without the need for water. She will tell us enough.

Perhaps I should have started to take more pictures while you were still smiling. I wonder if that could have helped you or if you would have drowned deeper into your sorrow.

It is quite easy to forget about important things, especially if there is much information to hold at once. It is also easier to remember and connect things if you write them down, so that you or your employees can always make sure to be informed. Wouldn’t it be wise to write things down, Manager?

…

The Manager was sitting at their desk, rubbing their head as they wondered over the last things that have happened so far. At least now they had time to think about everything, considering everyone was dismissed for the day.

It didn’t take too long for everyone to get over Yuri’s death (if all, the majority was sour that they weren’t able to retrieve the Golden Bough). Gregor still seemed a bit sorrowful about her death though. If Dante had to guess, it probably reminded him of his family. More so because of Hermann.

Thinking about the advice they were just told, the voice had a point, admittedly. So much information was being given every time they decided to Uptie a new ID; it was a bit confusing to keep track of its every word.

Yet, write them down? They couldn’t just keep stacks of papers in their office, right? It would get a bit too messy over time, so they decided to push that advice to the side.

Asking Outis about R Corp. had brought little. It seems that she was more knowledgeable about their battles and (mostly) how they fought than anything that happens inside of R Corp. They should have expected that, really.

With a little ‘tick’, the Manager drummed their fingers against the table. They didn’t need rest, not really, but it was always good to rest their body after a day. It wasn’t so easy to get used to all the pain. And the constant thoughts and questions they had weren’t really helpful either.

<… I wonder if I could ask Faust…?>

It was something that they asked themselves often. She was the one holding knowledge of almost anything they could think of (which wasn’t much, honestly). Asking Vergilius would be a bit of an inconvenience. And they would be asking Faust indirectly anyway.

And yet, it was nighttime. She was probably already asleep.

Dante sighed before shaking their head.

There had to be a better way to all this mess. They couldn’t just be constantly wondering about every piece of information this voice was telling them. If only they still had their memories… maybe then it would be easier…

<Perhaps I should just ignore it for a bit…?>

It didn’t seem like a bad idea. After all, what did it help to wonder about questions they had no answer to? And they couldn’t just ask Faust all the time. She would get suspicious anyway.

Right, that was another problem.

Dante had forgotten it completely, but they hadn’t told anyone about the voice. Hell, they weren’t even sure if Faust knew what was happening. She seemed to know much, but, wouldn’t she inquire about the words that were said to Dante if she knew someone was talking to them?

Or perhaps she knew already what the voice was saying?

They still hadn’t figured out how much Faust knew and how much she didn’t know.

They couldn’t just tell the other Sinners, too. What if they thought they were crazy? It wasn’t like they were that close anyway. And, admittedly, they didn’t really want to be disliked already.

Giving up for today, Dante sighed and moved towards the bed. Outis insisted on keeping watch tonight, so they could ‘rest’ for today. Perhaps it would be of use.

Chapter Text

This could only be defined as hell.

Even if the arena was quite large and the sky could be seen above.

All this stench of blood and dust flooded through my body till they reached my lungs, filling them to the brim. Through my heavy breathing, I could only perceive everything in a haze.

It was a hellish place. One that was filled with the sounds of boots dragging themselves across the floor. One where fists were striking guts, faces, sides, chests, everything that was made of flesh.

And there were countless me and myself.

There are other ways to feel like there are countless forms of yourself than simply staying before your copy. In some way, a few people would rather discard a self that bothers or is perceived as unnerving to the person. And sometimes, people cannot get away from the many selves that reside in one body.

This place was called the Hatchery.

If someone wants to be deployed as R Corp. combatants, they must all go through the Hatchery. It was a must, not something done out of willingness.

And within the Hatchery are innumerable clones that are me. We battle for survival. Like vermin we crawl around and fight to survive, as if this cage was too small for all of us.

The most exceptional specimen should be chosen. The one who manages to acquire efficiently the combat experience inside here.

Alas, it matters not who the original one was.

‘I’ am whatever vermin manages to survive.

And after the selection process was completed, I was hatched.

I had to undergo a special procedure so that my bioelectric signals were adequate to operate a massive exoskeletal suit.

There is something important: Surviving the Hatchery did not mean the end of the struggle.

For afterwards, the exoskeletal suit continuously drained my life energy.

The bioelectric induction procedure was only meant for my energy to be made transferable to the suit. It was something my assigned team accepted.

The feeling was unpleasant. Because of the process, my comrades and I suffer from constant fatigue.

Everyone of us used our own funds to fill ourselves with caffeine and sugar. If I were to guess, I’d assume we were all in agreement that wasting our own money was more alluring than returning to that hell that was the Hatchery.

Moreover, were I to not meet our expected combat performance goals, I would be sent back to the Hatchery.

And I would yet again fight an endless array of me and many more of myself.

It is the same reason I still cling to this hardened wristblade when I could have chosen a bulkier weapon, like my comrades.

Because this blade was what had kept me alive.

The feeling of knowing there are more I’s than anticipated can be… disconcerting. After all, perhaps that self was simply a failure. Perhaps you were a new chance, a new beginning.

It can be difficult or troublesome to know there was or is another you, one you never perceived yourself as. It can be a façade, a past, or simply a decision to change that can lead to people remembering a you that doesn’t exist in your story anymore. Manager, perhaps this new form of yours is a new beginning for you.

…

There was the voice again. Perhaps, one day, Dante would miss it if it were to go. Perhaps not.

In any way, they decided to do what they’ve pondered over yesterday: to ignore the voice for a bit. There were more important things to worry over than some voice in their head (which sounded wrong).

It wasn’t going all that bad in the bus. Although the Guide didn’t seem all that pleased with the failed mission, he wasn’t putting down the Sinners anymore. The threats had also subsided for now.

A few Sinners even began talking to each other, though it was mainly Don Quixote, Rodion, Sinclair and sometimes even Gregor doing it.

As far as Dante could tell, they were slowly figuring out how to fight with the Sinners. It wasn’t much. Barely anything. Faust had to help them a bit, admittedly. But one day they would figure it out.

Trying to stay optimistic wasn’t a bad decision, and it didn’t seem like the Sinners couldn’t get over the mission. If all, they were holding up pretty good.

Although battle and cooperation were still a bit of a hassle, with a bit of training it could be solved, so Dante didn’t worry about that too much.

Though they did wonder if there would be any more people accompanying them on their next mission. The Sinners didn’t seem ready enough to work together nicely, and hopefully they would be more behaved if there was a third party going with them. The emphasis was on hopefully.

Dante didn’t need to worry about the voice or the advice given to them. At least they guessed so. For now, they needed to have a clear mind and focus on understanding how this all worked.

As they glanced over their shoulder, they could clearly see Rodion talking to Sinclair and Don Quixote. Maybe those three would get along well. They didn’t seem to have any real animosity towards someone, and that was a good sign here. Gregor could be included as well.

“Dante.”

Faust’s voice almost made them flinch, and they quickly turned their head towards her.

<Ah. Yes, Faust? Is something wrong or…?>

The woman shook her head before glancing towards Vergilius for a second. “Faust would prefer it to go over the battle mechanics again. You seem to need much help with that still.”

It was a bit embarrassing to admit that she was right in every aspect, but the Manager didn’t expect anything else from her. They gave a little nod before Faust sat down beside them, beginning an endless explanation that seemed to never end.

Chapter Text

In the living quarter, the faint light of the afternoon shines through the window, basking the room in a warmer tone.

While his fellow colleague, a Reindeer like him, continues to chatter, he sits quietly. This employee was more focused on waiting for his commander than listening to her talking.

“From what I’ve heard, it seems that this proxy war will reach H Corp. if it goes through. I managed to get a pamphlet from there. Do you want to take a look at it, Hong Lu?”

She asks simply out of politeness. She didn’t know that this employee knew much about H Corp. already. She wasn’t at fault for it. He gives a short answer.

“Hmm. No, I’m good.”

Regardless, she deems it more important to keep him informed.

“Well, you know, H Corp. is one hell of a maze. I bet this information will come in handy once were there. You could also just skim through it.”

“Thank you, but I’ve already said no. I already know a bit about H Corp. I don’t need this pamphlet.”

Still, she continues to insist, as she always does.

“You could at least take a little look, just-“

“I said no. How often do I need to repeat myself?!”

“……”

That was surprising. Given who this employee was, this outburst should have never come out of his mouth.

He would have never entertained the thought of talking to someone like this. Normally, his voice wasn’t coated with a harsh annoyance.

This employee had once seen the world through the eyes of a spectator. He had once been a detached observer of life. Now, even among many, he has become an odd one out.

His refusal to accept death, or succumb to it, led him to claw his way through mountains of corpses that were himself. His strong will for survival was an exceptional showcase of defiance for what he once was.

“… I’m sorry. I’m just.. waiting for my next patch of pills. They’ve yet to arrive.”

But even through all this change, he continues to apologize with the same soft kindness, the same warmth. Even with the unending migraine, his nature pushes him to be polite.

His fellow Reindeer just gives him a little smile, one out of understanding.

“Hey, I get it. No need to apologize. We all know what it feels like. It doesn’t matter how many bottles of pills we finish, this neurosis just doesn’t want to end, huh.”

He was about to nod weakly at her words before the Pack Commander wandered through the door.

“Hmm… you look terrible. Guess the medicine distribution has missed a spot. I’ll make sure to inform them so you can get your pills before the contract begins.”

He takes a look at the commander before answering in a cheerful voice.

“Wowsers~ Thank you so much, commander!”

“… You should wipe that scowl off your face if you’re going to start that sweet talk.”

The commander shook his head, dismissing the matter.

“Well, anyways. As I’ve shared before, we decided to accept the proxy war contract. Though… the compensation is quite… meagre. Especially for all the risks involved…”

The Reindeer was quick to let out a sigh, shaking her head.

“And yet, without our regular supply of cash from L Corp., we don’t have the luxury to pick our battles. No?”

The employee was quick to reply as well.

“Given how you’ve come to visit us first, I assume the Reindeer are the advance team. Again. Or am I wrong?”

The commander nodded simply.

“That is correct. The Reindeer will enter first and eliminate any human resistance.”

The Reindeer still had a question for him, so she decided to ask.

“Also, I’ve heard that the Reindeer of the 2^nd Pack went in second.”

“… Well… that’s … the only similarities between the 2^nd Pack and the 4^th Pack, is that you share some characteristics. They have different positions and strategies, so…”

The commander quickly tried to change the subject once she decided to ask about the other Reindeer Pack. However, he wasn’t wrong. Even if they seemed similar, those in different Packs rarely acted the same way.

“Once you’re finished, we will send the Rhinos to destroy the facilities. And after that, the Rabbits will enter to destroy any remaining resistance.”

The employee raised an eyebrow.

“So, basically, we just go in there and light them all up. Got it.”

The commander gave them a few brief words before leaving.

“Go and prove your worth in this mission. I doubt any of you wants to get culled.”

Many called the 4^th Pack the white elephant of R Corp., mainly for its downsides and conditions. However, their specialty was extermination missions, which was the reason why they were still the go-to option.

“Huargghh… No! Please, stop it!”

Cries of the Backstreets residents echoed through the alleys.

“Hnngghh! N-No! This… my brain!”

His staff let blinding light explode, dozens of people going insane if they were within reach. All of them dropped to their knees, clutching at their throbbing heads.

There was so much hatred, so much resentment, all of it coming from the victims of his staff, their anguished screams a cacophony.

If death is something to fear, then humans will go any length to make it less frightening. Whether you want to believe in an afterlife, in the gentleness of death… or in forgetting who and what you are.

And yet, the employee spoke.

“The Rhinos will walk over your homes, destroying every piece that was important to you. The Rabbits will mutilate till your flesh is strewn across the floor. So… wouldn’t it be… much better if your minds don’t have to be here during those moments? If you surrender to the light, you can let it take you away.”

This employee believes he is doing an act of benevolence for the ones residing in the extermination zone. He believes that by letting madness take over their minds, the outcome will be far less painful. Being driven to madness was less terrifying, less painful than to be crushed or torn to shreds.

“Ughh…”

Yet, this sinister light was too much for this employee, for his mind was still sane. He clutched his head, frowning at the sight before him. The sight of the people tearing themselves away.

This endless ringing in his ears, the pulsing ache in his head… he couldn’t help but giggle. However, he knew a way out of this.

“Shit, I think they’re here already… Hey. You’re not gonna retreat?”

The Reindeer asked him with surprise in her face.

“Can’t you just shu- … It’s too loud here. Let’s sit just… down and wait for it.”

Although she looked at him as if he had turned mad, she knew that the great silence would take him away soon.

The great silence, better known as the indestructible force of the Rabbits and Rhinos.

“… Hmmn… maybe I’ll do that. I’d give anything for a good rest again.”

“…”

Death was something cheap for these Reindeers, for they have withstood multiple deaths and rebirths already. If all, it was more of a nap. A respite of this aching pain.

“Hehe! I think I spy a fresh patch of grass!”

He could hear the voice of one of the Rabbits.

“Suit pressurization is commencing…”

And there was the voice of one of the Rhinos.

It was time for him to put his staff down, for the blind destruction has arrived.

Soon enough, this employee will be simply another causality that was the extermination operation of the 4^th Pack. And after that, he will open his eyes in peace and welcome the silence.

Death becomes just another bother after it has arrived too often. Or maybe it is life that becomes a bother after too many deaths.

You wield the strength of bringing back what was lost, of bringing back what has faded. As such, it will also just become another burden for those who experience in this immortality. And yet, Manager, with the pain you bear, remind them of reason.

…

That was a heavy story, Dante had to admit that.

Never had they thought of seeing or hearing such thing. It was almost… impressing as it was horrible. Was that how the Wings worked? Making their employees unbothered by death?

Well, it wasn’t like Limbus Company was any different in that aspect. With how they could rewind back the time and bring the Sinners back…

They couldn’t remember how often they had done it already. And, as much as it was, the pain never got bearable. It was almost incredible just in what ways one can die and experience pain.

“Dante. It’s time to discuss the next mission.”

Faust’s voice brought them back to the present. Right, the mission. The search for another Golden Bough. To say they weren’t nervous was a lie. After all, what if the mission was just as difficult as last time? The Manager doubted they could look Vergilius in the eye at all if they were to mess up again.

<Right… so it’s time for that, huh.>

With that, the Sinners all moved to the group forming in the middle of the Bus.

Chapter Text

The eyes of this employee were filled with tiredness and fatigue. Whether it was the day that was making her drowsy or the job, a few could not say.

One of the strict juniors decided to speak up for once.

“… It shows the sensors signals are all clear. We should secure the aisle, I’d say.”

The employee simply stretched her arms with a yawn.

“Hmmn…. Gee~… This is such a hassle.” The senior furrowed their eyebrows at her words. “… This is our job. You know that.”

She only puffed her cheeks up slightly, giving their words only a few seconds of thought.

“I mean, okay, ‘course I’m doing what we should do. But like-…. Haaa~… Why do we need to help the bus crew?” The senior only raised an eyebrow at her words.

“You do know it’s what the LCC is ordered to do.”

“I know, I know!” The employee retorted playfully, smacking her lips while doing so. She knew what they had to do.

Assist the 12 Sinners on the bus called Mephistopheles to ensure that they safely secure the Golden Boughs. She was told so often enough to remember it.

If she was being honest, the work didn’t even really bother her.

She wasn’t an amateur. She didn’t complain about having to risk her life for people she’s never met or couldn’t care less about.

She simply disliked how little excitement this job brought her. She sighed.

One of the most dangerous things are people that are bored. It has been proven time and time again, and yet nothing changes. Most of the time, does who feel boredom for too long try to seek something entertaining, even if it can cause serious damage to them or those around them.

“Uff… man. I wanna be on the bus too. Who knows, maybe I could do that whole thing just as good. Also, there’s that one guy on there…. Vergilius, was it? I wanna meet him too.”

The senior let out a little scoff at her words.

“… You’re well aware you can’t just change departments like that. Those Sinners-“

“Ugh, I know. They have to resonate with that clockhead or whatever. I know what it takes, ya know? I was just saying...”

The employee let out a resigned sigh before lifting the radio in her hand. She spoke to it, as she did any day.

“This is Rodya talking. We’re commencing advance reconnaissance on containment in Sector E-361~”

She still managed to sound chipper, even if she found it all boring. After doing a few warm-up exercises, she turned to the rest of her group, giving them a smile.

“Everyone ready? Alright, then here we go. Breaching!”

Before, it was easy to be excited about the little things we achieved. We were steady in the progress, even. It was only after that progressed stopped where we began feeling unnerved or desperate. Enough to make bad decisions.

A good company must have more than one department, at least when it wants to grow somewhere. As such, it is not ill advised to inform yourself on what there is and what they do. But now, Manager, just how much do you know?

…

It was a surprising start to have such an Identity already. Especially considering they were just preparing to fight. Dante wasn’t sure what Effie and Saude would think, in all honesty. They didn’t even know how much they knew.

It hadn’t been long (if all, it has been exactly only a few hours) when the Sinners were all still silenced, mostly because Vergilius decided to drag them through mud. He was relentless about the reminder of the mission they failed. And that, by all extensions, was unnerving the Sinners. Especially Ishmael and Outis.

And then they were surprised with the information that there was a Golden Bough literally in the centre of District 10. It was something none had really expected (from what Dante could guess). But, in all honesty, they believed Vergilius also just liked seeing them all get thrown out of the bus to walk an endless path (that wasn’t long).

It was also then that they met the Limbus Company Clean-up Before Team (or LCCB for short). Even if hoping they could make a good first impression (which was already impossible in the first place), it all was made worse with the incident in the pawn shop. Someone really had to keep an eye on Don Quixote. Who knew she could be so energetic and quick?

The Manager should’ve warned Effie and Saude to how chaotic it could become with the team. Given the reaction both had, such uncooperative behaviour was not common in the other departments. If Dante could guess at all.

And as much as Dante wanted to ignore the voice, there was a bit of curiosity in the Manager. After all, they hadn’t really thought about the other departments existing in Limbus Company (if all, they had totally forgotten that such thing existed).

It made them wonder what else there was. Or, rather, if they were to run into many more of the departments. For a fraction of a second, the Manager wondered whether they should actually think about the voice again. That was until a voice cried out.

“What are they doing there?! I thought you were a manager, so do something!”

Right, they were about to start a fight here. In this almost desolated place. Just to get inside this Casino or whatever it really was. They had to equip the Identities and fight again. It was nothing they weren’t accustomed to, after all (though they couldn’t say they exactly understood the concept already).

<… Hm. Alright then. Might as well try the new Identity. Looks promising.>

With a quick glance to Rodion and her little smile in return, Dante decided it wouldn’t hurt to really try the Identity out. It was as they said, after all: it was best to get into things they could handle. And after taking a look at this Identity, they were positive that this was something they could handle without problems.

As they will from now on.

Chapter Text

“Enemy spotted! 100 meters before us!”

The LCCB colleague of this employee exclaimed said notice to another colleague before quickly realising in what position they were in.

“Shit… and we’re out of ammo…”

It was a serious emergency. This employee clothed in dark fabric was terrified of an unknown threat. One they didn’t know how to fight.

It’s not abnormal to feel afraid of the unknown. In an environment were this is a daily occurrence; one could start to consider whether it is something to get used to. In the end, the only thing one can get used to is the fear inside the heart, not what is unknown.

“Goddammit… I should’ve known it was a bad idea to bring less ammo to save the company budget! ... Well, it’s not like we could’ve gotten a better review of HR anyway, so why’d we… Ope.”

The employees mouth quickly shut when they realised their gun wasn’t shooting any ammo anymore.

“… 25 meters. I suppose this is the end for us…”

However, it was at this moment that their saviour, the employee with the golden-hour hair, arrived just in time.

She looked at her colleagues with no hint of concern.

“Hey, you two. Relax. I’ll take it from here.”

“Ms. Ishmael!”

The two colleagues seemed to be more than relieved to hear she would take care of the matter. And as such, she raised her shield, facing the oncoming foe with bravery. She spoke to the radio she had.

“Here Ishmael. I managed to join the team at Operation Site BA21. I’ll help them wipe out these damn rats. Over.”

Just moments later, a fury of flashing lights was visible. Her firearm was the salvation these two colleagues had needed.

“Oh, yeah. Also… I’d recommend refraining from making foolish suggestions such as conserving the ammo of the LCC in the future. We have enough benevolent sponsors for that.”

Her help didn’t come without a lecture.

Ammo is very expensive, and yet, I never shied away to recruit a few of our clerks with guns and ammo. If they knew how to use it well, it was never a waste.

If you want to lead a Company, you must also be aware of the costs that come with it. It is unwise to hinder your employees from doing what they must simply because you decide what is more valuable. Whether you want to pay in money or in bodies is up to you, Manager.

…

Quite the predicament to be in. It wasn’t after a few fights before the Manager decided to Uptie another one of the Identities. Again, it seemed to talk about the LCCB.

In a way, it was interesting. Especially considering they were having Effie and Saude with them. Speaking of which, it seemed as though Effie was losing his mind a little.

Dante couldn’t even blame him, honestly. Whatever just happened, it was… questionable.

Maybe Yi Sang should have worded it differently than a simple ‘Take your clothes off’. The Company wasn’t doing a good job in looking professional at the moment.

Their plan was screwed the moment they stepped foot into the pawn shop. At this point, Dante tried to remind themselves to keep an eye on Don Quixote. Just in case. She messed up enough already.

As such, they were forced to fight against the Tingtang members and the leader himself, who passed out shortly after losing the fight.

One of the only times Dante had truly prayed that the Sinners would win.

“Eww…. I’m not putting that on… it reeks!”

Rodion was making a disgusted face, barely holding the shirt up with her fingers. It was as if she wanted to make as less contact as possible with the fabric.

“Actually… it’s cleaner than I had assumed. Surprisingly. They must’ve been better than I thought.” Effie’s remark wasn’t really offering much consolation, but at least now they knew it could’ve been worse. Way worse.

“N.A.H. I’m not putting this on.”

Ryoshu was also quick to put in her own input. It was only thanks to Sinclair’s little whispers that Dante and the others could know she had said ‘Never actively happening’. Seems like she was strongly against the idea.

<Come on, guys… we really have to go through with this…>

And so it did. After a bit of convincing and maybe even giving Dante a machine they didn’t really understand, the group was good to go.

It was also the moment where Dante decided to be more of a stern Manager. In the end, the only thing they did was cower behind the Sinners and let them talk to them with threats and harsh words. This was the moment to show them differently.

At least it should have been so, for the Manager quickly forgot about that when they ‘accidentally’ pressed the button of the slot machine and hit a Jackpot. Great.

And that resulted to a fight with the security of the Casino. Really, it seemed like this was not the day for Limbus Company.

But it was alright. Effie and Saude had another idea.

That was quickly destroyed as well when Heathcliff let one of the security swing at the slot machine. The pained exclamation of Saude would’ve been funny if the whole mission wasn’t at risk right now. After Heathcliff’s genius idea, Effie turned towards Faust.

“Now I know why you never explain your plans…”

Chapter Text

“Dear new employees! Hey, everyone. I know you’re all gotta be tired of hearing this again, but… just, please stay focused during this lesson. After all, the purpose of these loyalty training classes is to enhance the psychological readiness of everyone here for battle.”

The LCCB instructor continued talking and talking, and yet, he had told a truth. Many employees here were bored of this class. More specifically this one right here.

As much as people get bored of hearing the same thing again and again, perhaps they will be grateful for it in the future. After all, what would happen if they were in a dire situation where the solution was stated for once?

“…”

Click. Clack.

This employee was especially impatient, for she didn’t stop to shake her leg. As such, the table vibrated ever-so-slightly, and her trousers made a brushing sound.

Click. Clack.

Accompanied with the already existing noise, she didn’t stop clicking her ballpoint pen. And yet, the instructor continued.

“I know it can get a bit tiring… maybe even boring… but let’s try reading it out loud again. So, open page 3 of the new hire training guide.”

“W.A.W.O.T.”

The employee muttered under her breath, letting out an annoyed sigh. It was clear that for her, this was a waste of time.

Her words were not loud enough for the instructor to hear, but they were audible for her colleagues to hear.

“Just how much longer do I need to suffer through this twaddle? I was lenient enough to go through this once, even twice. But this is really starting to get on my nerves…”

“… Excuse me? Could you keep it down?”

The employee that was sat beside her spoke up quietly. Even with her brushed ginger hair, her eyes showed just how bored she was of this as well. Nonetheless, it seemed she still went through with the lesson. It was odd seeing someone so annoyed and yet compliant at the same time. She raised an eyebrow at her.

“Did I say anything wrong though? We should sacrifice ourselves for everyone else while being proud of it? That’s a load of B.S. I don’t see the fun in suffering in others’ stead.”

The other employee was a bit speechless for a few seconds before she carefully replied.

“… Alright, I can see what you mean, and it’s not like I disagree with all that you’ve said… but we don’t work for fun. It’s better to accept it and just go along with it.”

“Disagree. I work for fun.”

“… Yeah, alright. Good for you, I suppose.”

The employee mumbled with a frown, hesitating for a moment as if she wanted to add something before she dropped it and turned away with a sigh. This employee saw it as almost a win.

“Hmpf.”

The now annoying voice of the instructor had not ceased to speak.

“Oh, right. While we’re at it. About the ammunition. While it is a standard issue gear for all of you from now on, please refrain from using them if it’s not absolutely necessary. You know how expensive it is. Let this be a good reminder: the more ammunition you save, the more extra you’ll be paid.”

The employee let out a scoff, but she knew that the other one had made a good point. If she were to get fired, she wouldn’t be getting any ‘interesting jobs’.

As such, she began to chew on her ballpoint pen instead of sighing and complaining like a child. With luck, it would make this waste of time go faster.

She desperately wanted the smoke brake to begin. The employee craved the smell of the smoke, the burning of the eyes.

And so here she was.

Leaving a trail of eye-watering smoke where she went.

Was it from her cigarette? Of course.

“…”

But it also stemmed from the shotgun she held in her hand.

“Hmm. So here we are. W.O.W.W.I.E.”

In her eyes, waiting for such long time was worth it. In here, there was no other sound but the reloading of her firearm, the plastic shell casing hitting the floor and the sound of her military boots moving through the halls.

There was nothing there. No teammates, no new recruits.

“Gh-!”

And now, there were no enemies as well. Gleefully, she took a hit from her cigarette. What a predicament this was. Things were taken from her, yet she had also taken from them.

“Tsk. Weaklings… all of these so-called superiors. Was that all they could manage with such weapon? This great communicator?”

She let the smoke of her cigarette curl to the ceiling.

“Hm… To be fair, it is running low on ammo… But it’s decent enough as a blunt weapon. We had to find some coordinates, hm? I bet they’ll greet me with open arms once I return with the mission object and the body bags that were once my superiors. They’ll be sure to give me more interesting jobs in the future… heh.”

The employee grinned, taking another hit of her cigarette. All’s well that ends well. Four minutes had gone by, for she spat out the butt of the burned cigarette. With that done, she made her way deeper into the building.

The first time, I had concentrated on saving as many as possible. The second time, I decided to sacrifice what was necessary, for it would break me if I were to go through it over and over again. In the end, it took more than two tried. Or three.

In a world where sacrifices are made every day, you have the luck to be able to afford it. And yet, it means they will know if that sacrifice had been worth it. As such, be careful what you decide to do, Manager.

…

As the group made their way to the next floor, Dante had enough time to Uptie yet another Identity. They were still getting a bit used to the Sinners. Maybe especially Ryoshu between a few other. She had a weird way of speaking, combined with her bloodlust.

Seeing the story was a bit worrisome. After all, if she already thought so in this Uptie story, what would she think here? The Manager wasn’t really that knowledgeable about how all of this works, but the Identities portray still the same Sinner. So, did that mean this Ryoshu thought the same?

Alas, the Manager couldn’t wonder about that for much longer, given how they arrived at the next floor.

The owners of it didn’t seem all that friendly, admittedly.

As such, after a bit of discussion, the Sinners were in a heated battle against these people. Well, that was before they abruptly stopped after hearing the laments of a customer.

“Espera, time out! Our customer here seems to need a bit of care!”

The Sinners (with Dante, Saude and Effie included), seemed a bit confused at the display before them. Never in their entire life would have Dante thought to see a sobbing person dancing with a pair of maracas in their hands.

“The hell…?”

They quickly explained how no one should be sad in this Casino (or floor, rather), for gambling was an entertainment. In all honesty, Dante found it… strangely heartwarming? In an odd way.

“This knight shall demonstrate what dancing truly is about!”

Don Quixote quickly tried it herself. And yet, the group seemed dissatisfied with the outcome, calling it ‘insincere’. The sudden seriousness in Don Quixote made the Manager a bit nervous. Effie turned to Saude with an eyebrow raised.

“Hey. What are you writing there?”

She simply chuckled. It didn’t sound cheerful in Dante’s ears, but who were they to judge? Technically speaking, they didn’t even have ears.

“Oh, you know. I was writing our apology letter in advance…”

Translations for SANGRIA (for those of you who can't understand or don't want to try):

W.O.R.O.M.S.= Walking over remnants of my superiors.

W.A.W.O.T. = What a waste of time.

B.S. = Bullshit.

W.O.W.W.I.E. = Waiting overlong was worth it eventually. 

Chapter Text

“Okay, woah! One at a time, one at a time now~”

The employee spoke cheerfully, almost as if the way he was moving was no effort for him. And yet, everyone watching had difficulties keeping track on his hands, which were moving quickly around.

“Hmm… Oh! You there, slacker~ Keep half-assing you’re your swings and your skull will be my personal plant pot~”

“Y-Yessir! I’m sorry, sir!”

Even with his hands and focus occupied, he could still manage to keep an eye on his subordinates.

A useful skill is being able to concentrate on two or more things at a time. And yet, the ones who are more confident with it are the ones taking higher risks. However, there are a few who manage to do so without being in danger.

“Alright, alright. Whatever. Now, what were you here for again?”

The employee questioned the trespassers that invaded his turf. However, he made sure to keep the movement going, slicing any foe that approached him.

“Urrgghmm…… The-… The car pagoda…”

“The pagodas? What’s with them?”

Not impressed, the employee gave the trespassers a doubtful look. He knew no one would come for the car pagodas like this, not with so many people.

“The rumours…… The rumours about J Corp...”

“Hmmm~ Well, does anyone know what he’s talking about?”

The employee didn’t sound like he was really interested in it, asking in a more nonchalant tone. One of his men had an answer, though, and was quick to explain.

“I’d guess it’s about that… uhm…the, err… wheel of fortune thing, boss.”

“The wheel of fortune…? You mean like the ones in the tarot cards?”

The employee quickly turned towards the intruder, raising an eyebrow in confusion. His biggest question was not yet answered.

“But why would you look for that in our turf?”

“… The wheels.”

There was a bit of silence before the employee frowned in confusion.

“Eh?”

“… Wheels. Cars… have a lot of them…”

The employee narrowed his eyes at the response before letting out an annoyed sigh. And just after-

“Woah. That’s… kinda pathetic. I’d suggest you all just die.”

His voice was cold while declaring that, and his grip on his dagger tightened.

 The lowest people, the ones on the brink of insanity, are the ones who seek out false beliefs or chances for something better. For that reason, we had the right tools to ensure almost no employee to turn insane. Ideally.

In a world this big, there will always be a chance of a group invading another one. It is also likely of another company attacking yours. The best thing to do is take precautions beforehand and keep a calm mindset during the quarrel, Manager.

…

That story was interesting. The Manager could have never imagined that enemies could also be used as Identities. Perhaps they should’ve seen it coming? Faust had mentioned something about it once, but it had been too complicated to understand.

In any case, there was a more dire situation at hand. One that demanded the Managers concentration.

“It may sound absurd, and it certainly is, but if we want to proceed to the next floor quickly… we will need to touch their hearts with a powerful dance.”

Ishmael’s words ring loud in the room, every Sinner glancing at each other. Dante was the first to speak.

<Well, you all know that already, but my memory isn’t the best… what did you call it again? Dance? Hmm… can’t really say I’m familiar with it.>

This was one of the few times that having Amnesia was a blessing for the Manager. Of course they knew what dancing is, but there wasn’t really a need to be honest about it. The Manager turned to Hong Lu.

<But, say… did you have any dance lessons as a child?>

The man gave a thoughtful expression at the question.

“Hmm. I learned a bit of bian lian, though I’ve only had… three instructors, I think. If I want to perform it, I’ll need a few masks, fans, makeup, and of course-“

<… That won’t be possible here. Next.>

Heathcliff raised an eyebrow at the Managers look.
“I guess I stepped on a few feet of snobbish aristocrats at those balls.”

The line continued with Yi Sang giving a sombre look.

“There is a voice inside me expressing a deep sense of fear.”

The eyes continued wandering to Ishmael, who gave a nonchalant response.

“… Oh, me? Well, I’ve spent my life on a boat, so…”

Don Quixote couldn’t express herself, so they quickly looked at the next Sinner.

“Hmm. A sword dance doesn’t sound too bad. ‘S been a while. I’d kill it on the floor.”

Dante didn’t want to know whether Ryōshū meant that literally or metaphorically, so they went on to the next Sinner.

“The only beats I have danced to throughout my life have admittedly been morning exercise programs during roll calls. However, if the Manager so demands it, I will see to it that-“

They let it be at that and moved on to the next one. There weren’t many left.

“Ah- Well… Dante, you know… I’m good at many things, but my dancing’s like kinda… embarrassing. Haha…”

That was another one less. They glanced at Gregor next, who looked oddly calm for the imminent threat.

“Hm? I wouldn’t mind, though I can’t say my arm won’t rage out from the stimulation and go for the head of the audience.”

It was a good excuse, admittedly. Perhaps as good as the Manager's. Or so they believed it, at least. A quick glance at Meursault told them he wouldn’t do it either.

“…”

Faust was the next one to be questioned.

“Though Faust doesn’t dance for leisure, I could gladly perform a routine if it’s for the sake of the mission. However, it is not perfection that they seek from this dance. They’re looking for something unpolished, rather…”

Everyone’s gaze landed on Sinclair, who looked a bit taken aback by the sudden attention. Rodya smiled at him.

“Sinclair!”

“H-Huh??”

“I’m sure you busted a move or two as a kid, didn’t you?”

He seemed a bit hesitant, but answered nonetheless.

“B-Bust? Well, I took a basic maracas course as a liberal arts class for school…”

<Huh? He came from a rich family as well? How were you able to tell, Rodya?>

The Manager looked at her in surprise, to which she only gave a smile and flipped her hair back.

“Heh. It’s easy to tell from the way he talks and walks. Just as easy to tell the uncultured ones, ya know?” She gave a quick glance at Heathcliff before giggling slightly. After that, she silently approached Sinclair before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Hmm, ‘kay now~ Little Sinclair, I have a very, veery, veeeery important task for you.”

Everyone, or rather only a few of the Sinners, were trying to motivate him to step up and dance with his soul. And yet, he still was unsure about it all. Sinclair turned his head to Rodion, looking a bit anxious.

“Am I… really able to do this?”

She softly placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head lightly.

“Wrong question, Sinclair. This is something only you can do.”

He looked at her for a while before giving a determined nod. With a gaze full of confidence and determination, he stepped up onto the table with a pair of maracas in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he started dancing.

And the crowd went wild.

Praises were sung left and right, melodies were played, movements were analysed. Some looked at him in awe, some wiped a few tears away and some simply enjoyed the dance.

The Manager was able to hear a few complex interpretations of the dance, of whatever movements Sinclair decided to use for this performance.

And through all of this, after it ended, Dante wondered what feeling Sinclair had put into the dance.

But that was a question for later.

For after they entered the third floor, a not so friendly looking Syndicate threw gruesome sounding threats at the group.

Chapter Text

“… You… you want me to do that? Really?”

The employee looked at the others in shock, his pristine mustache wriggling slightly. The others just sighed, glancing at each other.

“Okay, listen. El jefe… well, he’s feeling a little uneasy lately, aye? So it’s up to you to cheer him up, novato.”

One of the employees decided to comfort him softly. Meanwhile, the others were all looking at the one they called “jefe” or “boss”. One who was currently holding his maracas between trembling hands.

“Hmm. You see, novato. This is like… an entry passage.”

How would a new person feel in a large group of veterans? There is a certain fear of what will happen and what will be done wrong. For as much as humans want to belong somewhere, sometimes it is simply to scary or exhausting to do so.

Another employee snipped, nodding his head at the other’s words.

“Sí! An entry passage, right. Let’s just say it’s… something everyone of here had to experience before truly becoming un verdadero mariachi.”

That didn’t help the employee though, as his face just got as pale as a whale. He was not in the slightest bit reassured, finding an argument quickly.

“But… but I’ve heard of the rumors. If I say that to our jefe… Sinclair…”

“Sí, your head will go pop!”

The employee made a popping sound with his mouth, accompanying it with a little gesture. Another one nodded in agreement, giving a little shrug.

“For sure, for sure. Un cráneo explosivo.”

That just made the employee angry. He tried to argue against his fate, but they all just shake their heads and reply with the same answer:

“… We all went through it once, novato.”

Seeing how there was no way out of this, the employee let out a defeated sigh. He was offered a little pat on the back before he faced his boss again.

“Uhm… B-Boss? … Prepare the pañata party pl-“

He couldn’t even finish the sentence before his boss moved.

Shaka!

There was a bit of blood leaking from the head of the employee who said “pañata”.

“Mhm. Así se hace, novato.”

“Sí, sí. Seems like the boss has entered… well, the boss mode.”

The rest of the employees that were gathered there looked at the fainted employee with a proud look in their eyes, scratching each their own head.

It seems like this scenery has reminded them of their own experience.

Even if there never was really a ceremony of welcome, we all felt bound together. Whether it was because of our goals or the people that were with us depended on the person.

It isn’t unheard of that a new member of a group would feel nervous around others. And yet, with experience and shared moments, that bond can stretch on to that very member. Would it not be your job to ensure that everyone feels included, Manager?

…

An interesting new story. Dante didn’t really know if they had seen that particular person of the Identity before.

Well, it was from the Mariachis, so they probably just had ignored them or whatever. It wouldn’t matter much anymore. After all, they moved up from that floor, no?

Speaking of, Effie was quick to whisper something to the group upon seeing the Syndicate.

“I almost forgot, but… These are from the Syndicate that is known for its… ehem… crude language. From what I’ve heard, they managed to take down dozens of rival Syndicates simply from the psychological damage from their words!”

He raised his eyebrows, looking between the Sinners for a moment before letting out a sigh. It seems he had already managed to guess that they wouldn’t come out of this unharmed.

And sure enough, Effie wasn’t wrong.

The words that came out of the Syndicate members were foul in its origin and disgusting in its brutality. Heathcliff was quite literally left speechless, and that was saying something.

“… Woah.”

Even Gregor almost let his cigarette fall from his mouth after hearing this slaughter of a conversation between Heathcliff and the crew. Rodya simply tried to hide her laugh behind a cough.

As such, a new fight began.

But it wasn’t long till they all realised that they didn’t have time for so many distractions.

<What to do? We can’t just keep this up for eternity…>

Luck was on the Manager’s side, for Ishmael gave them a reassuring grin.

“No need to worry. We have a trump card.”

<… Huh?> The Manager looked at Ishmael in confusion, glancing around.

<We have what now?>

“Observe.”

She gestured towards her left, where Ryōshū was approaching with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

And as such, she began to talk.

Or explain. Well, it was more describing? Or an instruction? Something like that.

Whatever it was, it was horrible. Rodya had to place her hands over Sinclair’s ears, Ishmael looked disgusted, and Heathcliff was just flabbergasted.

And the thugs were actually taking notes, their eyes twinkling as much as Don Quixote’s whenever she described one of the adventures from a Fixer.

Many of the Sinners, as well as the thugs, voiced their opinions about Ryōshū’s gory words.

“… Hm. I thought I was pretty knowledgeable about the sailor’s mouth, being a seafarer for half my life. And yet… it seems there is much I need to learn.”

Ishamel’s words made Saude turn to Faust.

“… I will be honest. I have no idea why the higher-ups would organize a team like yours.”

“I have reasons to believe this lineup wasn’t meant to be understood by individuals like us.”

Saude gave an exasperated sigh at Faust’s words.

“Indeed. And yet… I guess it isn’t all so bad.”

And as Faust always did (or perhaps more to Dante and the LCCB Team), she calmly replied with words that sometimes felt mocking.

“Congratulations. Saude, you finally reached the stage of acceptance.”

Chapter Text

“’A Food for Thought’. This one’s got a really nice title, eh? I mean, think about it. A meal for your heart… For that, it better be one really hearty meal, don’tcha think so? Well, it’s what they say here anyway.”

The employee held the book up, giving the interviewer one cheeky smile. They, in return, raised an eyebrow at her words.

“So… is that why you’re currently having a whole mean in the library?”

“Yup.”

The employee gave a simple nod, shrugging her shoulders. That was before she stopped to think over their words.

“Wait, no. C’mon~ You gotta be precise in your wording! Otherwise, you’ll suffer under confusion and misunderstandings. I’m having a… ‘snack’.”

“… Uhu… riiiiight…”

She gave an exasperated sigh at their words, as if it was a hassle to explain her logic.

“Look. This is a library, no? So, this is where you find various ‘food for thoughts’, yeah? Therefore, this place is full of ‘foods’. So, basically, in its essence, this whole place is just a big diner! Therefore, there is absolutely nothing wrong in having a little snack in here!”

She gave a hearty bite to the chocolate bar she was holding, accentuating her words with it. The interviewer let out a sigh.

“Yeah, okay. Unlike your ‘food for thoughts’, this interview is lacking in substance. So I’d say we can end the interview here.”

Not able to hide the sarcasm in their voice, the interviewer continued talking to the employee.

“I’ll let the Madam Librarian know how I had a really good and fruitful interview with you about the vast mega-diner that the Dieci Association has, on top of all the dishes from the varying Cities. How about that, hm?”

The employee let out an indignant huff, devouring the rest of the chocolate she had in hand.

“Oh, come on! Alright, alright. I’ll get serious!! Just… don’t tell her what I said, m’kay?”

“…”

“Okay, so. Ya wanna hear what the essence of the Dieci Association is, yeah?”

The employee immediately switched to being serious, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. The interviewer only nodded hesitantly.

“Yes. Well… I do know that it specializes in accumulating ‘knowledge’. But I’d like to know what this Association means to you, Ms. Rodion.” Surprise was written on her face, but only for a little moment. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in thought.

“Hmm… What this Association means to me…”

A bit of time passed before she was able to give a truthful answer.

“Home. This place… is like home. I’m pretty sure you know already that the Association picks up and raises kids that have no parents or guardians, right?”

The interviewer gave a little nod.

“I am aware of that, yes. The public also refers to your Association as the ‘Association of Charity’.”

“Well, that’s how I ended up here~ … Boy, that was a really long time ago though.”

She scratched her neck, looking a bit unfocused as she recalled her memories.

“Before this, I’d live off dirty and stale bread I found in the streets… I’d sleep under sheets I made from torn clothes of my dead friend’s body… Hm. Yeah, I guess I had times like that.”

There will always be a memory that a person doesn’t want to recall, for everyone has suffered once in a way. And yet, there will always be someone saying that there is someone that has suffered more than you. Because in a world where there is mostly pain, it will all be measured in the amount.

The interviewer gave a little cough, making her acknowledge them fully again. She gave them an amused smile.

“Ooh, was that too dark for you? Well, whatever. They picked me up and gave me a new life. Though it is kinda annoying that I have to study so dang hard as a member of this Association.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow at her words.

“Well, you’ve made it to Section 4. That would mean you’ve been working hard, no? I doubt the only thing you’ve done is sit here and feed yourself with ‘foods for the gut’.”

“Haah, I dunno. Don’t think I’ve studied that hard now… I must be a natural genius~”

She threw her hair back, acting all smug about her little statement. The interviewer remained in silence.

“…”

“Hm. Though, studying isn’t completely useless. Because the more I know, the stronger I get.”

The interviewer seemed to gain their interest again, for they looked at her with focus.

“I heard about it. Your strength is proportional to the knowledge you’ve amassed, no?”

“Hehe! The undying truth of the universe itself has my back! Of course I’d have no trouble beating the hell out of those knuckleheads. Some of those birdbrains underestimate Dieci Fixers, ya know? Whenever they hear that we’re going to fight them, they expect to battle against some nerds.”

The interviewer took their time in coming up with an adequate question. One that wouldn’t anger her too much but would offend her enough to give a detailed answer.

“So… they look down on your Association. It must be quite irritating, no?”

“No, no! Not at all! If all, it spices things up.” She smiled at the interviewer, an excited glint in her eyes. The memory of the fights seemed to excite her.

“Every time they dare look down on us, my stoles glow with power. And as such, my fists smite them down on the curbside. They really are the perfect opportunities to show just how big the gap of knowledge is between us and those ignorant fools who don’t know the true power of the Dieci Association.”

She reached for another snack.

“Don’tcha think so?”

 We were never a place that could call itself charitable. We may have offered work for even people from the backstreet, and yet, was it not their demise we led them to? Even the ones we had picked up out of pity ended up suffering in the end.

Even if your Company isn’t recognized right now, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It is always the most acknowledged Corporation that has no freedom over the constant gaze of rulers. As such, use this opportunity for your own goals, Manager.

…

That had been quite the interesting Identity. If the Rodya from that world had lived such a miserable life before, could it mean that this Rodya had as well? But maybe not. After all, it was another world (from what they could understand).

And as they worried over what to do with the wasted wishpower, Rodya admitted having pinched a bit of it from the pawnshop.

Of course, it led Saude to almost chew her out. The poor woman was getting exasperated from the team (if she hadn’t lost her mind already, that is). Especially when Rodya announced that she wanted to gamble for the price instead of the Manager. Saude only sighed, giving up.

And so, the group continued moving to the third floor.

“Tudum. The contestant enters~”

Upon noticing there were only two people in the room, Rodya’s smile fell to a pout.

“Aww, I’m not the last? There goes my dramatic entry…”

A woman who was already seated at the round table raised an eyebrow at her. And even if Dante swore they didn’t know anyone here, she seemed familiar.

“You are?”

“Name’s Rodion. I’m here to gamble for the right to access the basement.”

The woman only laughed, starting a little conversation with Rodya before she gave her name as well. Aida. Upon closer look, the Manager now realised why she seemed so familiar. She was from the Mariachi group. Maybe even the boss?

<… That… she is from your Identity, no?>

The Manager whispered their words to Sinclair, even if it was useless. They wouldn’t understand their words anyway. He only nodded slightly.

“It seems so…”

There was a brief introduction with another person that sat at the table. Perhaps from the group before, if Dante had to guess. Seeing the full-body prosthetic, Dante was glad to have only their head removed to a clock. The Manager couldn’t fathom the pain it must be to waddle around in those short legs, let alone grab something with… the hands.

But it wasn’t after the appearance of the fourth person before Rodya’s expression seemed to shift a little. It was obvious that the two knew each other, mostly because the man named Sonya freely spoke about it (or, well, only mentioned a few things about the past). He seemed to know quite much about the Golden Bough, more than the Manager did (which wasn’t hard, admittedly. They’d blame amnesia), but he also seemed to talk about his ideals.

It was a bit strange for the Manager to see Rodya like that. Even if she was trying to keep her composure, she seemed a little off. Perhaps wistful? Or was that regret in her eyes? There was only one questioned Sonya asked before the game began.

“What is your goal, Rodya?”

“… To win.”

He gave her a smile before muttering a response to her words.

“Of course.”

And so, the gambling began.

Chapter Text

“Oooh! I see now~ So that’s how you read this word.”

The employee was reading a book while muttering to himself. In his hand was a key with a ring through which he was looking to read the words on the pages. The book in question was ancient, old enough to unbind if one held it at a wrong angle. The pages were filled with indecipherable and squiggly letters.

And although the employee didn’t understand the meaning of every word written…

“I see… so there existed more languages than the 13 common ones~”

… he continued to look through the ring, his calm and unblinking jade eye absorbing the information on the pages. Maybe looking through it revealed something.

“Hmm…. I think I’ll have to shrink it a little …” The employee fiddled with the ring absent-mindedly, removing his gaze from the book for a moment. Once the ring shrunk to a smaller size, he returned to reading the texts through it.

“Aha! I knew it~ Someone erased something here, hmm?” The employee gave an amused smile at his findings, tapping his finger against his key.

“There really is nothing like this key when it comes to finding hidden or redacted records…”

Many are appealed by mysteries and secrets. It is what leads a human forward: to gain knowledge or find hidden words. It never has to be a clear sign.

To elaborate, there are two publicly known sects within the Dieci Association.

The Fists, who collect knowledge directly with their own hands. The Keys, who indirectly attain knowledge through a lens from their tool, from a distance.

The Fists naturally incline towards hand-to-hand combat, encouraged through the means in which they gain knowledge. On the other hand, the Keys incline towards battle, using the very tools they use to attain knowledge.

“Uhh… so, I don’t think we’re allowed to touch this book, right?”

One of the employees in the room, a woman known for secretly snacking in the library, scratched her neck as she looked at the mentioned book.

“Indeed. This document here is an ancient one. The slightest touch with the sebum on the surface of our hands could alter it immediately irrevocably.” One of her colleagues nodded in confirmation. In response, the employee only gave an exasperated sigh.

“Tsk… then how am I supposed to understand it if I can’t even touch it?”

Her colleague gave her a little smile, obviously already having a solution prepared for her.

“Physical contact is not always required. We can gather sufficient information from simply taking in the texts using this comparison chart that I have prepared. Now, if we observe this part here where-“

Although the difference between the two sects lies between the preference and the personal upbringing of an employee, a tool such as a key would have been preferable here.

But that wasn’t all.

“Hyah!”

As observed, the Keys possess the ability to strike their foes from afar with their tools, while the Fists have no other choice but to get close and personal to be able to hit.

“Hrng-… what the hell… slapping people around with such a key!” Some enemies backed away from the employee upon seeing the weapon, like now.

“Huh? Where did you come from now?” To which he employee only raised an eyebrow in surprise.

It was not common knowledge that the tiny key that usually hung around his neck could grow into such giant size. As such, most enemies are caught off guard when facing the Keys.

“Whew… Well, I guess that was all there was to do for today.” The employee rubbed his shoulder, shrinking his key back to the usual small size.

 Now, some may wonder why anyone would use the alternative instead of using the key.

“Uhm… so… where in the world am I again?” The employee rubbed his neck, turning his head around a few times to take a closer look at his surroundings.

The reason was simple. To peer into a key to attain knowledge means that knowledge gained outside of the key was not stored as strength. To enlarge the key or giving it a proper mass, a certain amount of ‘knowledge’ needs to be consumed, gained specifically through the key. Swinging a huge key around burns therefore a large quantity of knowledge.

“Haha! Guess I forgot!” The employee only laughed slightly, choosing a random street and following it. It was not the first time this happened, nor would it be the last.

Knowledge was one of the most valuable things I could have. And yet, it took me so long to gain the knowledge I really needed to push myself and us all forward.

In a world where information and knowledge are an important thing, you have lost what you knew. And yet, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You have the chance to form yourself with the knowledge you attain. You are not held back by the things that you remember, Manager.

…

That had been… surprisingly difficult to understand. Even if the Manager (somewhat) understood what had been explained to them, the information didn’t really want to register in their head. Perhaps it was from all the information they didn’t try to process before.

And yet, this had been a good time to uptie a new Identity. There was no battle going on as of now (if the Manager ignored the card game Rodya was currently playing), but there could always be the threat of something happening later.

Did the voice give some advice similar to that? Dante couldn’t quite remember…

Instead, they crossed their arms, watching the game unfold. It was looking fairly good for Rodya. Probably. Maybe? It was a half-hearted guess based on her expression.

And even when the threat of losing appeared, Rodya had proved herself to be smarter than that… prosthetic user. Enough so to win the game, actually.

They did have to talk to Rodya later about giving them a heart attack mid-game.
Yet… it did make the Manager wonder the tricks she had up her sleeve.

They had never wondered exactly about the life the Sinners had led before coming to the Company. Well, they did have a glimpse of what Gregor had to go through, but Rodya?

All they could guess what that she also didn’t have a good life before (based on the conversation between Sonya and her).

Would the others have just as a bad life? Worse, maybe?

And what about the Manager themself?

What life had they lived before?

“Dante.”

<… Huh?> Faust’s voice was quick to bring Dante back to the present. It was only then that they noticed that Aida refused to lose (bad sportsmanship, if anyone were to ask Dante).

<Ah, right. The Identities. Let’s start the battle…>

In the end, it seems like it had been useful to uptie that Identity while nothing had happened.

Chapter Text

It is of great importance in the mastery of the Fist that I recall at any given time the structure of the human anatomy.

Sparring, basic cardiovascular fitness training, precise striking of punching bags… There are truly numerous ways of improving one’s physique. And yet… nothing compares to the amount of time one must spend before a desk, with a pen in hand, to truly grasp what includes the mastery of the Fist.

Have you ever experienced that feeling, a fatigue so extreme that every step feels as though wading through a marshy bog? But it is in that exhaustion when my mind is cleared like the surface of a recently made coin.

Not every exhaustion concludes in a cleared mind. However, how many people stay awake at night to consume a waterfall of information, whether it is useless or not? From a certain point, it is a natural desire to chase knowledge, though the motivation may lack.

I find myself growing joyful in such moments. To collect the information on the blueprints of a human body is to train my brain as one does body; to fortify the threads of my mind as one does of musculature. To achieve such, I study in solitude.

In my mind, the human body is the equivalent of an architecture.

In the Association library’s knowledge repository, my interest in architecture has grown.

Considering how the young child, whose terrible fate had been lifted by the Association, had found special interest in the sections ‘Architecture’ and ‘Human Anatomy’, even if they were rows and rows apart from each other… it would be no exaggeration to say both subjects have much in common.

Shear wall structure. Trusses design. Flat-slab construction.

I soon came to understand that each and every one of those techniques was an outcome of a pursuit for stability. It was in those electrifying words that I came to learn about the extended meditations that lead to such outcomes.

And yet, once I contemplated those designs, I came to the understanding of what holds a building up. Of how even the sturdiest of structures crumbles once the load-bearing walls have been properly damaged, for every structure owns such.

I found myself especially intrigued by such vulnerabilities.

If one were to ask me why, I may answer that such knowledge permits one to demolish and reconstruct the defective structures with a newly structure, one closer to perfection. It allows to tear down architecture to destroy the flaws once identified.

Such ideation came to me in the wake of my adulthood, once I took on missions given to me by the Association. It was also around that time that I reached section ‘H’ in the library.

I began to understand that perhaps such flaws are more prominent in the structure of human anatomy.

There was a sudden desire in me to correct those flaws. Not only because of the Association’s orders, but by my nature as a researcher.

Even if the human anatomy appears consistent across every individual, there are transfigurations in every ‘structure’ of the human body once it grows.

Certain structures grow unstable in their physical blueprints, yet are reinforced by a powerful mind that allows them to stand steadfast. And certain physical structures have a firm physical balance, yet are flawed by their internal design.

The more flaws a structure contains, the more obvious their vulnerabilities become.

With my research, I shall demolish them with a steady and precise strike so that they may rebuild themselves to a proper shape.

Thus completed is the mastery of the Fist.

The mastery of an art that, in comparison with the fickleness of the Keys that unnecessarily harm the outer layer, strikes at the core of every structure.

Such is the reason why I, a structure myself, have selected the Fists as my passion.

Each and every of us lacked something. Perfection was never a term that should have been used. Perhaps we all lacked sympathy, in one way or another.

To destroy something and rebuild it anew to perfection may seem like a stable solution. And yet, there is no way to rebuild a mind that has been demolished by agony and sorrow. There isn’t always a need to destroy what is imperfect, Manager.

…

That had been quite the… interesting Identity. As much as Dante had decided not to listen too much to the voice for now, there was always a curiosity gnawing at them. That perhaps these stories were meant for something. But for what? The future?

And not to forget the words that are whispered at the end of a story, right before the advice was given. The Manager couldn’t quite comprehend about what the voice was talking about.

Well, obviously about itself and its friends (maybe?), but most of the times, it talked about it in such a … negative way. It was always criticising, it seemed.

“Ugh… that had been hard…” Gregor was currently leaning against a wall, most likely complaining about his back pain. Entering the basement hadn’t been a problem. If they didn’t consider that basically everyone here was viewing them as intruders, that is.

And though it had been tedious and all, the mood of the Sinners wasn’t that bad. Gregor even managed to talk about Yuri without being too down and all.

The only problem Dante had was that Rodya seemed a bit off. And yet, they didn’t really want to approach her. It hadn’t been long since everyone had first met, and even if Rodya had seemed quite the lively one from the start… she was starting to look grimmer (if the Manager wasn’t imagining it). Besides, Dante had witnessed how good she could act. Perhaps she didn’t even want to talk?

Crossing their arms and deep in thought, Dante suddenly began to contemplate.

The voice was giving advice. Something that Dante should listen to, most likely. They could feel how important it was.

And yet, the Manager themself could not feel their own importance. Up to now, the only thing they did was revive and command the Sinners in battle. Their voice was never quite heard, nor were they asked for advice or help.

Thinking about it all, it felt so very… demeaning. How could they help other people if they couldn’t even help themself? And that was without considering how they couldn’t remember a single thing from their past.

Now they were right before another fight with those strange looking things that were singing a weird song. Perhaps such things were made to dwell on later. Right on point, Faust turned to Dante.

“If you may, Dante.”

Chapter Text

“… That question is rather straightforward. Unlike ‘information’, the process of obtaining ‘knowledge’ includes two extra steps: perception and understanding. To make the gained information their own, one must look at it from various perspectives. Only then does that information become knowledge.”

The sound of rustling paper fills the library. And yet, this employee does not avert his gaze from the pages of his book. The interviewer would find his ability to both read and answer questions at the same time impressive if she weren’t focused on scribbling down his words.

“So… just looking, or listening, to something once and calling it a day isn’t enough… huh! That’s not very straightforward, but I think I get what you mean.”

The interviewer nods before focusing her attention back to the employee.

“And the purpose of late-night study sessions is to… gain a deeper understanding of… uhm… yeah. So, basically, they’re to gain more knowledge?”

The interviewer made sure to write her notes as detailed as possible, writing down every word coming out of his mouth. She also made sure to ask questions like a good student.

She couldn’t help but grow excited with every detailed explanation the employee gave her. It was no exaggeration to say that this was, for once, an interview where she could gain real information from her subject. As such, she intended to gain as much from this as she could. Especially considering her last subjects weren’t… as responsive to her questions.

“Hm. It certainly is one of the many perspectives of our practice. It most likely isn’t incorrect, if incomplete.”

The interviewer raised an eyebrow at his words.

“Incomplete? Do you mean to tell me that there are-“

“These late-night study sessions do also serve as catch up sessions. They are the best time to regain knowledge that was lost during a contract. In other words, new knowledge can also be gained by relearning what was lost; that is the core meaning of the late-night study sessions in the Dieci Association.”

The interviewer nodded again, quickly writing down what precious information she had obtained.

“Right, I get it now. While solidifying what has been learned before is important, one should not neglect learning new things either. That’s some real knowledge right there, I’d say. But… how’s it going with that?”

In that moment, the rustling of a bag of chips can be heard from somewhere in this room. There was the tiniest twitch of the employee’s brow. A bit quickly, the interviewer covered her mouth to hide her laughter. After the employee took a quick glance around to find the culprit, he let out the smallest grown of frustration.

“We are… making the intended progress, despite a few shortcomings.”

“Haha. I know that can’t possibly be easy.”

The interviewer couldn’t help but chuckle to herself after writing down another observation about him. ‘Albeit a bit unfriendly, less of a hardass than expected.’

“Okay, next question. Another popular image of the Dieci Association is that it primarily accepts contracts involving Ruins and Relics. Do you have any personal opinion about those contracts?”

The employee didn’t need to think long before answering.

“I merely carry out the will of those that have taken me under their wings. Though if you’d prefer my reply still… hmm, I should be able to form a sufficient reply based on available information.”

The interviewer secretly let out a relieved sigh. She preferred more detailed answers than whatever he had just given.

“Each Relic possesses its idiosyncrasies in usage and mechanic; therefore, using them requires deep study and analysis. That is the process during which we gain a heavy amount of first-rate knowledge, and even a first-hand experience of the unique atmosphere of the Ruins. I’d wager it’s one of the foremost sites of education.”

“Ruins as a place of education, huh… Well, that’s quite the unique but impressive perspective.”

She gave the employee a big, knowing smile. However, written in her notebook stands: ‘I have no idea what he’s on about, but it sounds very impressive.’

“Alright then. Last question and I promise I’ll get out of your hair. Is there a long-term goal you have as a Fixer, Director? Maybe some well hidden knowledge you’d like to obtain…?”

“My goal is to be granted audience with the Saint.”

His answer was straightforward and came out rather quickly. It threw off the interviewer for a second.

“… The Saint? Uh… how are they like?”

“In each cardinal branch of the Dieci Association lies a Saint. They are wise people, every one of them individuals with unfathomably grand repositories of knowledge.”

“Aah, I see. So you have people you look up to! If you’re making it out to be a big deal having an audience with them, I guess they’re very busy people?”

There is a quantity of people that look up to someone, mostly because they possess something they don’t. And yet, oftentimes, it doesn’t take much time before that admiration turns to envy, which leads them to despise the person that had once been their idol.

This was more something she knew off, so she steadily began writing down what he told her.

“Mhm. It is correct to state that I, at this moment, cannot meet them.”

“So there are requirements you have to fulfil before meeting them?”

The employee gave a short nod at her words.

“Indeed. I have to persevere in my studies and grow out my repositories of knowledge.”

“Haha. Then I guess it’s only a matter of time before you obtain an audience with them. Well, that’s all. Guess we can-“

She wasn’t able to finish her words, for a loud alarm blasted through the halls of the library, just as she was about to put her notebook away. One of the librarians ran towards the employee and whispered something into his ear. He only gave a calm nod in response. It was a strong contrast to the panic the interviewer was feeling. He was quick to explain the situation to her.

“It appears someone has broken into out establishment to obtain our Holy Relic.”

“Holy… Relic?”

A high-ranking Fixer might would have heard about the Holy Relics from the Dieci Association, but the knowledge of the interviewer extended only as far as the rumours did. As such, she only gave him a confused but curious look, not understanding what he was talking about. She sat before him for a moment in silence before she understood that he was offering no explanation.

“But.. who could it be? To raid an Association…”

“It must the new Syndicate that soughs after our Holy Relic. I’d assume the invasion to be their doing. It won’t be difficult to identify them. They wear red masks emblematic of their organisation.”

Calmly, the employee stood up before wrapping his stoles around his fist. Even with the knowledge the interviewer had, she still felt concern for the employee. If they were bold enough to raid an Association, they couldn’t possibly be just Backstreets ruffians.

“P-Please… be careful.”

“There’s no need to worry. I have studied much as of late.”

One of the Syndicate henchmen looks around nervously with a key in his hand. No doubt it was a Relic from the Keys.

“Dammit! I thought this was one of the Holy Relics… but this ain’t even a Relic!”

Of course. Because the Holy Relics of the Dieci Association are held by its Saints, and only by its Saints. The keys and stoles that the other librarians use are a downgraded version of the true Holy Relics.

“You mistook the blessing of the Holy Relics for the Relic itself, which guided you to misinformation.”

“Well, in for an Ahn, in for a-… screw it! I’ll just use this to-!“

The henchman rushed forward with the key in his hand, but the employee doesn’t even blink an eye.

The diligently studied knowledge, brilliant in its light, focused on the fist of the employee. And soon, the building echoes with the heavy noise of crumbling floor.

Once things had calmed down somewhat, the interviewer quietly and carefully excited the room, only to be greeted by a surprising sight.

".....”

Before her, various of the Syndicate members were splayed bloody on the demolished floor. And unharmed amidst them stood the employee.

The interviewer whips out her notepad and quickly begins scribbling down the sight in front of her.

She had heard from the employee she had interviewed earlier, the one with an unstilled appetite, that the Dieci Association was more than an educational facility.

And yet, hearing it and witnessing it in person are two completely different things. It seems like the Syndicate members were learning this the hard way as well.

While the interviewer had assumed that the Syndicate members had an ace up their sleeves, considering they were bold enough to attack an Association, there was one thing that they have missed.

It was the fact that the Dieci Association was not an Association filled with fray scholars...

“I have beaten wisdom into this foe, for it has chosen to face me.”

… but a powerful fist honed by endless studies and experience.

If only we had been ambushed by mere Backstreet ruffians. Things would have turned out for the better, yet one could not hold their mouth.

There are many ways to fly up the ranks to someone more important, most of which include knowledge and experience. You are already the Manager of your Department. As such, take your time to gather experience and knowledge during your missions, for it will shape your actions soon enough.

…

That had sounded… somewhat threatening? ‘It will shape your actions soon enough’, it said.

And yet, as the Manager looked at their Sinners, they could only see happiness. Well, mostly.

Admittedly, the basement had been very stressful. First came the risk of whether that Sonya will take the Golden Bough before they did, then came the devastating past of Rodya and then came the wild chase of whatever that house with bird legs was.

If there was one thing the Manager had learned, then it was to maybe better their stamina.

But that wasn’t their biggest worry right now.

Even if Rodya managed to somehow steal the gambling chips to pay for food and drinks, she didn’t really look as… lively?

Underneath that well preserved mask, Dante could have sworn they noticed something akin to distress.

However, this was not the time to bring down the mood.

Everyone was happy to have finally acquired a Golden Bough, and now they could feast on a good meal. It would be insensitive of Dante to pry into Rodion’s feeling right now.

Perhaps they could do it later.

Till tomorrow, the Manager had more than enough time to think about today’s story and advise.

And hope that the next mission would be just as enjoyable and somewhat light-hearted.

Chapter Text

“What do you say? Unfair? Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what’s so unfair about this, pal. You got me curious now.”

Leisurely, the employee threw the fellow he had grabbed by the collar aside before he sat in front of them. That way, he could pay attention to every detail as they spoke.

“Ugh… I mean, come on. Isn’t it… kinda weird that you can shoot fire out from your fist?”

“Any ol’ run-of-the-mill Fixer can get themselves some weapon from a workshop, and you think this is what’s weird? ‘Sides, I didn’t even use any of that fire magic on you when I knocked you out flat, so what’s it?”

The employee was clearly unbothered by the other’s remarks, merely humouring them almost. Which they clearly didn’t appreciate, given the frown.

“Magic my ass…”

“Look, pal… simply to say: you’re just too weak. What d’ya even think, picking up fights with random people on the street. Quite the idea, eh?”

“See- that’s the damn problem!”

In a situation where fear takes over, where people cannot flee from, some give in to the urge to mock the threat. Perhaps it is a way to feel less scared and calm down, although it rarely ends well.

The employee was surprised by the other’s words, adjusting his glasses before he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Look, how does it make sense that a scraggly prune like you can beat up eight healthy young people?”

“… Scraggly prune, huh…”

The employee’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, but it was only for a few seconds. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard such words, and it wouldn’t be the last either.

“Listen here, youngster. You got more nicer words around for that. Experienced, maybe veteran, alright?”

“And- And you’re short as hell too!”

“… Short…”

This was starting to get personal for the employee. He had heard people call him many things, but short wasn’t always one. Especially so daringly.

“Plus, you look like a total mess!”

“Whoa, well, I wouldn’t say that’s true at-“

“Yes it is, no cap! Just look at your beard, it’s on that five-month shadow! And your hair’s a total bird’s nest! You-“

The other couldn’t finish his sentence before his face was struck by a fist that sent him flying to the floor, the flames still flickering and charring that grounded hair. The one that struck that person was now taking a creased cigarette to his mouth, lighting its tip with his burning fist.

“… Hm. At least that saved me the trouble of grabbing a lighter.”

Rude and sarcastic words were never something unusual. There were quite a few people who didn’t shy back from being almost rude. Yet, for all their usefulness, I overlooked that little detail.

Although fear sometimes brings out the ugliest side out of you, it is not always a good decision to push it down. Instead, don’t deny your fear and try to find a solution anyway. While fear can control your mind, recklessness can cost your life, Manager.

…

Surprisingly enough, Dante found it incredible that the voice managed to get something useful out of that story.

If all, Dante would have expected it to say something about ‘being rude brings you nowhere’ or ‘respect your elders’ or something similar to that. Seems like that wasn’t the case.

In any case, it was quite the peaceful ride to the next destination (wherever that was). It gave the Manager enough time to uptie another card calmly. They had noticed that they could focus better on the advice or comments when they weren’t in a stressful situation. Obviously.

 Charon was even beginning to hum a song while driving.

And although the Manager could have sworn they had never heard that song before, they were able to sing along with her in their head.

Well, that was before Vergilius spoke up and talked to Charon.

Although the Manager was a bit intrigued about the conversation, the dark look on Vergilius’ face told them that it was something better left undiscussed.

“Okay, I’m getting sick of hearing that same story over and over again, so let me change the subject: where are we headed now?”

Gregor’s voice managed to catch Dante’s attention, for they were also curious about where they were headed to. Vergilius was kind enough to answer for once.

“We’re headed to K Corp’s Nest.”

That managed to make the Sinners more interested and chattier, most of them sharing experiences with each other. Mostly about food, but it was a nice start of a bond between them. The Manager liked to see it.

Well, that was before the Sinners turned to Sinclair, who was sitting silently in his chair. Rodya was the first to speak up.

“Wha-? Oh gosh, golly, what’s wrong with ya, kiddo?”

“He’s turned pale. He’s also suffering from hyperventilation and tremors.”

Despite the situation, Meursault managed to stay calm and stoic as always while explaining his observations to Rodya. It didn’t exactly help to calm the Manager down though.

<Wh- How long has he been like this?>

“Since Mister Vergilius mentioned K Corp.”

<Why didn’t you tell me earlier?>

“… Because you didn’t order to do me so.”

Surprisingly enough, Meursault was looking at Dante as if it was their fault for not doing the obvious. Not wanting to argue against that, Dante let the other Sinners talk to Sinclair, who apparently only got an ‘upset stomach’. The Manager doubted the truth of that statement.

<That brings me… Faust. I’m noticing a pattern where one of us always has a visceral reaction to the destinations that Vergilius reveals. In addition, it does appear that the destination has a history with the person in question. Does that somehow have to do with the reason we joined the company?>

“… You just referred to the team as ‘we’.”

The Manager was a bit confused at Faust’s words, more so because it wasn’t an answer to their question.

<… Huh??>

“It’s a part of my mission to detect the slightest of chances. As for your questions, while I am unable to tell you the reasons for recruiting the Sinners in detail… There’d be no point in denying that our destinations and the background of each Sinner are related to a degree.”

Her words started a quick argument between her and Heathcliff. It honestly didn’t surprise the Manager anymore. However, it did become a bit worrisome as soon as Heathcliff started approaching Faust with his bat shaking his fury.

“Why, you-…“

He didn’t get very far before Sinclair suddenly decided to throw up on the floor.

For the first time in a while, the bus quieted down.

Chapter Text

“Augh?!”

A flame quickly burst out, sending the sword wielding employee to fall on his rear in shock and surprise. In return, the one wearing the gauntlets offered a hand to help.

“… Mr. Meursault…”

“The Liu equipment can strike fire if you hit the right spot at the right time.”

The silent employee spoke to the one that fell to the floor. His hand was still stretched out to them with his gauntlet now extinguished.

Even when they need it most, some people refrain from accepting help, seeing it as a weakness. And although it can be one, one of the greatest weaknesses is to be ignorant and refuse what can potentially even form a bond between each other.

“On the contrary, if the trajectory and the friction aren’t right, nothing can be kindled. By its lonesome, fire cannot ignite.”

“… Uhm…”

The employee on the ground couldn’t really make out what to do with his words. Whether he was giving him advice or simply stating a fact was unclear.

“I have been taught that this law guides all of the Liu. As such, fire will naturally spark, just like I naturally remain in Section 6.”

The employee tilted his head, as if a question still remained unanswered. However, the one responding only gave the faintest smile.

“Devote yourself to practice.”

With that, the employee left.

Even if there were people who naturally disliked each other, they had enough experience to know when to help each other.

Although you are fairly unfamiliar with this Company still, there is more than enough chances for you to accept help, even offer it. Be wise in your decisions, but be not unkind to all you meet. Perhaps it is that kindness that ignites another heart, Manager.

…

Strangely enough, this advice had been a bit more… soft? In a way Dante couldn’t explain. It was less about being critical, but more about kindness. Surely, that didn’t mean anything bad for the future or so. Hopefully.

Another interesting thing for the Manager was Meursault smiling, even if only for the slightest moment. That was enough to catch them off guard. However, there were other things to take care of at the moment.

Glancing to the side, Dante made sure that Sinclair was feeling better. He could call himself lucky that Vergilius didn’t punish him in any way.

“Ah, right. By the way, you were referring to the Backstreets of District 11 when you said K Corp’s Nest, right? Missed pointing it out since everyone got a bit… excited here…” Gregor asked Vergilius curiously. If Dante wanted to be optimistic, they’d say that Vergilius was beginning to tolerate them. Slightly.

However, Vergilius gave Gregor only an unamused look.

“I rarely misspeak, if ever. I know what I said, Gregor. We’re heading to K Corp’s Nest.”

That seemed to surprise him a little, as well as most of the other Sinners. The Manager couldn’t really tell what was so special, but it wasn’t like they knew much anyway.

“Huh, so we’re going into a Nest. But that means…”

“Indeed. There’s the immigration process.”

“Huh? But I don’t have a K Corp. visa. You ain’t about to tell me that everyone else got one, right?” As Rodya said that, she glanced at Heathcliff. Not so subtly, actually. It was enough for him to catch it and frown in response.

“What. Why’re you lookin’ at me now?”

As Ryōshū offered that there was the possibility to just CIDER (or C.I.D.E.R.? The Manager was unsure), Ishmael quickly threw that option out of the way.

“Well, a company as big as ours might get a free pass. Not to mention, taking the suggestion dear Ryōshū mentioned might take us ages. How bad do you need to underestimate a Nest actively governed by a Wing to say that?” She gave an annoyed, if even unapproving, glance at Ryōshū.

<Oh, I see now. No one’s considering how much I’ll suffer for that CIDER, huh?>

Sadly, none of the Sinners bothered to answer Dante.

Not much more was commented afterwards. Hong Lu asked about whether Vergilius knew any shareholder of H Corp, but he gave a dismissive answer in return. Although Hong Lu sounded disappointed by his answer (and that was already an exaggeration), he didn’t seem the slightest bit the part.

There was the occasional interruption of a fight, but it was handled quickly enough for it to not be considered a big bother.

And soon enough, they arrived at the checkpoint.

“Alright, we arrived. Everyone, get off the bus. Ah, and while we’re at it. In case you’re all feeling inclined to your usual antics. Don’t cause a scene and expect things to go your way… Because that will not be the way this particular place works.”

Vergilius’ words were already enough to intimidate a fair amount of the Sinners before they walked to the checkpoint.

The Manager didn’t feel very calm in this place. There was a menacing and interrogative atmosphere about it that could subdue the temper of any first-time visitor. Apparently, the Sinners were no exception. They barely talked to each other, only under whispers if necessary.

Although there was the occasional sound of Sinclair sniffling, Gregor and Rodya tried their best to calm him down.

And any of Dante’s questions were met with heads shaken sideways.

“Ah, what a nice sight this is. Every one of you staying in line and behaving. Like a brood of chickens on an outing.”

Vergilius’ voice didn’t seem to only startle Dante, for Ishmael quickly turned her head towards him with confusion written on her face.

“Wait, why are you here…”

<What exactly made you follow us outside the bus this time…>

Although not able to understand anything but ticking, Vergilius seemed to have caught notice of Dante’s flustered reaction at the unexpected company.

“Because this is a Nest, Dante. If any of you were to get into unexpected trouble in here… Well, Dante, the responsibility will be a bit too heavy for you to bear alone.”

The Manager didn’t know whether Vergilius had intentionally put it that way, but in their ears, it sounded like he was saying “You’re not reliable enough to be sent without supervision.”

… But they knew it was wiser for them to keep that to themself.