[Walter]

The clock kept ticking on the wall, the room otherwise silent. Mordred slowly paced from one side to the other, then back, rubbing his eyes. Marvin watched him from behind his desk, Beige resting against the windowsill with her arms crossed over her stomach and her gaze averted.

“Could you sit down, Mordred? You’re going to give me a migraine like that.” Marvin finally spoke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Sorry, bro, but I think being a little bit on edge is justified,” the man responded. “We have a mole in our company. Said mole knew everything about our plans that night, and has been funneling cash into a massive criminal enterprise. Whitaker is still out and about, and with every day it becomes more likely our company - our family will be framed as crooks.”

“...I understand that, but…”

“You already have something planned, right?” Mordred said, finally stopping and rolling his shoulders. “I’m guessing you already have some suspects.”

Marvin simply nodded.

“Right. And I’m guessing I’m among them.” He crossed his arms at Marvin and shook his head as he saw his brother about to speak up. “No need to say it, bro, I get it. Few people knew about our mission that night. I was one of them.”

Mordred then turned on his heal, raising a hand in a half-hearted wave. “Just do whatever you gotta do to figure this shit out.”

And with that, he was gone.



The room fell silent once more. It was Beige who spoke up next.

“...Mordred isn’t the only option, is he?” she asked.

Marvin shook his head. “There are two others, discounting the two of us and Silica. Mordred was the only one who knew the details of our plan, but two others knew that we were beginning to investigate those shady dealings. Fortune is one of them.”

Beige grimaced. “I’ve always hated that man. He’s a self-serving bastard, and would stop at nothing to gain power. You should never have gotten involved with him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was the one behind all of this.”

Marvin leaned back in his seat, tapping his desk. “It would surprise me, however. He’s still a valid suspect, but he’s not an idiot. If word gets out that the Royale Foundation is taking part in these underground dealings, right after a merger with Fortune Enterprise, his own reputation would be ruined. That’s not to say we should discount him - just that if he’s behind all this, he’s already planned much further ahead than I could myself. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Beige nodded. “And the other suspect?”

“...Trunce.”

Beige blinked, then let out an awkward laugh. “Elivian? You’re joking.”

Marvin shook his head again. “I’m entirely serious. He knew about my intentions to investigate this whole thing. I don’t believe he’s an intentional mole, if he is - but he’s hopelessly naive. It’s entirely believable someone is leading him along.”

After a lull, Beige spoke again. “So, what now?”

“Now… We make some arrangements.”



The Royales had been far more discrete this time around. No posters, no series of interviews. The process was instead painfully simple - if a trusted huntsman-in-training happened to be looking for a job, Silica would approach them with an offer.
Solid pay, a simple task, one request.

Keep it all a secret.

These missions were assigned to huntsmen in training rather than any of Royale's own men, as there was no way to tell who was and wasn't in on the shady dealings the Royale Foundation had found itself a part of. With Mordred and Fortune having their own web of connections among professional huntsmen in Vale, students became the only option for Marvin. It was a risky move, and yet it was the only move he could make.


Mordred Royale. Marvin Royale's brother and former teammate, still a close associate to the Royale Foundation and an active huntsman. Quite well-known at that - renowned for his skill with a blade, especially against other fighters despite never taking part in any official contest.

Mordred was the one who led the team on the previous mission and was the only person besides Marvin to have access to every detail regarding it. This has made him a prime suspect for being the mole within the Royale Foundation.

Mordred already know he's a suspect and has supposedly begun his own investigation. You'll have to keep an eye on him until further notice and report anything strange back to me.

Good luck, Juno.

 - Silica


Mordred had left his home that evening at 8:15 PM. He had dug through his pockets, produced a stick of gum, and checked the messages on his scroll. He had then started walking.

He kept walking until he found himself in, quite possibly, the shadiest part of town. It was well past 9 PM now, and the streetlights had replaced the last rays of sunlight. The streets stood empty with the exception of a few vagrants wandering about, most of them faunus. Mordred seemed to pay them no mind at all, passing by the serious of alleyways and rundown apartment complexes without so much as a glance towards them.

It was clear that he was heading somewhere with a purpose, but it remained unclear what that was. How Juno went about trailing him was at his discretion - so long as he could remain unseen.

[Zwei Not]

A portfolio was a tricky thing to build as a huntsman in training. The number of jobs available to lowerclassmen was significantly lower than those available to upperclassmen, and even then, many of the few available jobs involved being shadowed by a huntsman, which usually meant either less pay, or less of a reputation. Reputation was founded on risk and success, and one didn't build a reputation by hiding behind someone with a bigger stick. As such, he was more than happy to take this job, regardless of its simplicity. A single human target that he was tasked with following. While direct engagement wasn't the goal, he should be prepared for it anyway. Supposedly his target was a renown swordsman in the Royale family, and a higher-up in the Royale Foundation. Why such a figure would potentially sabotage a group he was so invested in was beyond Juno, but that's why he was here; to figure out if this guy was a mole within the foundation, and if he is, then to figure out why.

The young man rolled his shoulders as he synced the rocket locker to his scroll, taking a moment to check himself in the mirror before closing the door. He had thought it would be appropriate to attempt to blend in, clad in a simple black and white tracksuit with his hair tied back into a pony tail and some makeup applied to his scars in an attempt to hide them. It was simple, unassuming, and plain. Evening may be a relatively uncommon time for joggers to take to the streets, especially in a metropolitan area such as the City of Vale, but when was the last time anyone heard of a fitness nut spying on the inner workings of an influential family?

By his own admission, Juno had picked out a pretty decent spot to wait for his target, utilizing a street sign at the corner of the block in order to help him stretch as he prepped for his jog. He kept his aura down as he watched the man exit his his home, taking a moment to flick through the settings of his own scroll and plug it into a speaker at his hip. He needed to be unassuming, but trying too hard to not be noticed often made you look the most out of place. As such, a smile came to his lips as he began playing some workout music, just loudly enough for those around him to hear as he set off on his jog, following the man at a distance on the opposite side of the street. On occasion Juno would pass the man, oftentimes to turn down an intersection and act as though he were taking a different course, but ultimately the raven-haired huntsman would return, and always with a new, motivating workout fanfare.

Maintained streets and sidewalks soon gave way to cracked pavement and neglected potholes, as the stores and apartments showed signs of the city's notable wealth gap between the marketplaces and the slums. Juno turned down his music as he continued to jog, using Phi to keep an eye on the man's position as he made another pass and stopped at the corner to stretch and take a break. This poverty stricken location oozed hallmarks of backdoor shady dealings. He'd just need to be in the right spot to report an anything important.

Not long after the young man stopped, Silica would receive a message from Juno's scroll.

[Trailed target to slums, at 26th and Prospect, ultimate destination still unknown.]

[Walter]

'Roger that, Juno. I don't want to believe Mordred's up to no good, but if he's wandering around that part of town, that might just be the case. Continue observing him for now.' Silica responds to Juno's message.

Mordred continues on his walk for a while longer before stopping at a corner. He lets out a breath which turns to vapor in front of his face and leans against the wall, checking the time on his scroll. Somewhere nearby both he and Juno would hear a car's engine draw closer, eventually stopping however. Mordred perks up at this, turning to face the corner with his arms crossed.

A couple of minutes pass before another figure rounds the corner - about the same age as Mordred himself, though a bit shorter and less broad-shouldered. The man was dressed in a suit with a tie loosely hanging around his neck, matching the color of his dark hair. Notably, one of his eyes bore an eyepatch. He grinned at the sight of Mordred.

Juno would likely have to get closer to hear the two converse - there were plenty of alleyways and back entrances, as well as relatively low rooftops all around, however. If he decided to go for it, he'd have plenty of options to choose from.

[Zwei Not]

The young man took a moment to study the oncoming car before crossing the street, moving for a bakery nearby where the two men were meeting. Upon entering, he was quick to make his way to the woman working at the counter, hastily flashing his scroll and Huntsman Student license, though he made a decent effort to cover the "student" designation with his thumb. Once he had gotten the woman's attention, he hurriedly asked if the building had any rooftop access, a question that was replied to with a slow, confused nod and a wary gesture to the door near the back of the building, marked with a stick figure ascending a staircase.

He should have probably scanned the whole room first, but her help was appreciated.

A quick "Thanks" left his lips as he jogged to the staircase, ascending roughly four flights of stairs before reaching the door that accessed the rooftops. The adjacent building was a story shorter, but much closer to where his mark was, and definitely gave him a vantage point that was on the easier side to hide in. It took a running start to clear the gap that was the alley between the two buildings, and his landing was... less than clean, as the angle at which he jumped forced him to scrape his palms as he pulled into a roll. Gods, he needed to work on his acrobatics without his aura. He didn't let the poor landing bother him too much, however, as he brushed himself off as he strolled toward the edge of his new perch, looking over the side until he spotted his mark again before ducking behind the rooftop's ledge, inching ever so closely to a position just above Mordred as to listen in on the conversation.

[Walter]

Juno would arrive in time to see the other man give a sort of half-shrug, placing his hands in his pockets. "And that's the gist of it, Royale. Someone's tryin' to mess with the balance of power around here, and let me tell ya, the rest of of aren't all too happy with it either. I don't think it's explicitly coming from... Our side of the business, so to speak. In fact, I'm sure you're just as well aware as I am that it's someone in your ring messing with things."

Mordred nodded. "We know as much, yes. Marvin's been trying to figure out who's behind all that, but I'm going at it from a different angle. Whoever is behind all this has an 'in'. Someone got them and Whitaker, and whoever else in our organization might be involved, into your territory, set them up with the contacts they needed and so forth. And it had to be someone powerful."

The man seems to ponder this for a moment. "And that someone could be able to tell you who it is you're after?"

Mordred is the one to shrug this time. "Perhaps. Dealing with them with be a step in the right direction, at least.

"In that case, I might have good news for you." The man digs through his pockets and produces a folded piece of paper, handing it to Mordred. "Pig Mask's whole group changes sites on the regular to avoid getting caught, but a little birdie in his inner circle's let me know where they'll be staying next week. If you wish to contact them, one way or another, that would be the time - and if anyone would choose to mess with the order of things, it'd be him. Bourbon, well... He'll be easier to speak with, but I doubt he'll have all that much to tell you. Visiting him shouldn't be too troublesome, he has a deal similar to my own with the authorities. There are certain... conditions, for meeting him, though. I've jotted them down."

While this exchange happens below him, Juno would likely notice something. A figure now broods on the roof of the building opposite from him, their features by shadows - but they are rather tall and broad-shouldered, and seem to be swaying oddly from side-to-side. He'd also sense a presence behind himself, and upon looking back he'd see someone standing on the opposite end of the roof, now stepping closer.

They looked... strange. Their appearance was generally androgynous, their purple hair long and curly on one side and shaved off completely on the other; their bright pink eyes seemed almost psychotic and the grin on their face was much the same; their outfit consisted of something akin to a purple suit vest and pants, a white undershirt beneath the vest. They twirled a pair of large handguns in their hands, cackling quietly.

Close enough that their whisper could be heard, they finally speak up: "I don't really care for eavesdropping punks, but you're not my target tonight. Keep quiet, stay out of my way, fuck off and I won't have to kill you. Sound good?"

[Zwei Not]

So Mordred was searching for the mole himself, or at least it seemed that way. Shadowy dealings were rarely cut and dry, from what he could gather, so ultimately he'd need Silica's insight. Besides, this development was definitely something that would be important for her to know.

Juno was about halfway through his message when he felt the newcomer's presence, their stance and attitude putting him on edge almost immediately. [Mordred is doing some digging of his own. Has info on next Pig Mask meeting. Someone is here] Hurriedly finishing and sending his text, he then changed applications to summon his rocket locker, standing up from his perch and wordlessly putting up his aura.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm just here for the view?" he asked the stranger as he slowly moved for the rooftop staircase, calling the locker to land in front of him as he moved. "I'm not here to fight."

[Walter]

Beneath them, Mordred read over the note passed to him by Hart before pocketing it. Hart then spoke up again.

"One more question, Royale."

"Go ahead, Hart."

"Did you follow our little agreement of bringing no weapons to this exchange?"

Mordred snickered. "Not exactly. You?"

"Of course not."

Fight theme/Hart's combat theme: Block B. - Very Good (Rough ver.)

Barely a moment passed before a pale hand lurched out from a puddle by Mordred's feet, but as it grabbed for his leg it had already moved and responded with a kick, though it was only met with a splash of water. As the puddle rapidly retreated and began to grow into the shape of a person, Hart turned on his heel, pulling a pair of handguns from his jacket and firing thrice at the figure on the rooftop on the opposite side of the road, but the figure had already dropped down. Mordred, meanwhile, had produced a pair of ornate daggers and taken a fighting stance.

"I wonder which one of us was tailed?" Hart pondered aloud as he raised his guns, aiming one at each assailant.

"Both of us," Mordred answered matter-of-factly. "But I have some good news about that on my end."


The person before Juno laughed, sharply and loudly. "That so? Well, my employer doesn't exactly mind collateral. Encourages it, really.  So if you want to stick around 'for the view', I can certainly give you plenty to see tonight, boy."

It was then that the two would hear gunfire from below as Mordred and Hart had been attacked. They laughed again. "Oh, but it seems the show's begun without me! If you're staying out of the way, then I'll just...."

Beep beep.

'Understood. If that's the case, make sure Mordred is safe. He can handle himself, but can get a bit cocky. I've already forwarded what you've told me to Marvin. Stay safe.'

"What, texting at a time like this? Kids these days, serious... Oh, fucker!"

They raise their guns towards Juno but it's at this point that Juno's locker would crash onto the roof between them. As his opponent reels back to cover themselves from the dust and debris, Juno might just find himself the opportunity to collect his gear.

[Zwei Not]

Gunshots? They weren't from his opponent... How many people trailed Mordred to begin with? Silica said he was a capable fighter, if cocky... He could afford to leave Mordred and his informant to deal with one of the assailants, right?

At this point, it didn't matter, his locker was here and his opponent was distracted. The door to the locker had been thrown open as it embedded itself into the roof, allowing the young man easier access to his blade, and more importantly, his belt, bearing the familiar form of the Hardlight Generator. Wasting no time in donning the belt, Juno slammed the door to the locker, the hand wrapped around his blade's grip squeezing its two triggers as he slammed it into the now empty locker, causing an explosion that sent it careening toward his opponent. It wasn't likely to hit, but it was a distraction. He could recover the locker later.

[Aura:100]
[Active: 0| Standby: 5| Charging:0]
[Type J: Eruptor Charge: 0. 95% Dust Remaining]

[Walter]

Where the puddle once was now stood a person as androgynous as Juno's opponent above. Dressed in a form-fitting compression top, swim trunks, waterproof headband and bearing pixie-cut, cyan hair, they were, at the very least, a fair bit more attractive.

"Bloody 'ell. Figures killin' ya wankers wouldn't be that simple," they called out as their ally took place by their side, still swaying from one side to the other as he moved. His head was shaven, a lopsided grin on his face. He was dressed in a pair of torn jeans, a leather jacket and nothing else.

"Makes it all the better when they struggle!" he said, pulling a flask from their pocket. As he did so, however, a bullet sent it flying out of his hand. He looked over to Hart, a smoking gun aiming right at him.

"Ballsy move on Mask's part to send his personal bodyguard after me like this.Though I suppose he was never one for subtlety, But if that's the way he wants to play, I certainly don't mind."

A few seconds passed in a lull.

A gunshot from somewhere above acted as a starter pistol for the four fighters.

The puddle-fighter charged at Mordred with a clearly telegraphed punch. Mordred moved his arm to intercept the strike but as it was just moments away from connecting, his opponent's own arm turned to liquid. It passed through Mordred's and was aimed right at his jaw. But it seemed that their attack wouldn't get through that easily - it seemed that in an instant Mordred's other arm had moved up to block the punch. Mordred then used his opponent's confusion to retaliate with a quick jab, forcing his attacker back.

"Oi, cunt! I got no idea who ya are, but that just now was cheatin'!"

Mordred smirked. "I believe the proper term is 'being a better fighter'."


The other attacker, meanwhile, had produced another flask in one hand and what seemed to be a primitive steel club in the other. Hart fired three more times, the first shot missing his bobbing-and-weaving foe, the second blocked by his club and the third striking the flask, flung towards Hart.

In that instant, the air between them and the attacker himself was engulfed by bright orange flame. Hart seemed unfazed.

When the man lunged through the fire, seemingly paying no mind to them at all, the crimelord was more than prepared. He leaned back to avoid one swing from a (now flaming) club, ducking under the next and sending a bullet into the man's stomach from the hip. Though the shot connected, it seemed to leave the weapon open and it was soon struck from Hart's hand, leaving him with only one of his guns.

Continued swings from the assailant forced Hart back further until he managed to duck-and-roll around him. Another shot struck his opponent in the leg, staggering him.

"You're a coward, Hart!"

"And you're a dumb, ugly bastard. I know which one I prefer!"


Juno's stunt had earned him the time he needed. By the time his opponent had recovered, the locker was already hurdling their way. Rather than simply dodging it, they went for a different approach. The locker flew through what appeared to be a cloud of purple smoke, parting it, but it soon came back together - Juno's opponent standing there as they had been standing there before, grinning.

"Cute trick. I figured I recognized you from somewhere, boy," they commented, twirling their guns. "A shame I'll have to kill such a talented young fighter, truly. But if that's the choice you want to make, I won't argue it!"

With that, the woman raised her guns and fired a volley of shots at Juno, 6 in total. The shots were rather high-caliber and would do a fair bit of damage (7% each) if they connected. His opponent remained motionless as they fired, content on standing their ground and keeping their aim steady.

[Zwei Not]

Welp. Any cover he had was just blown wide open, but quite frankly that was the least of his worries at the moment. There were three assailants in total, judging from the commotion in the alley, and the one he had to engage could dissolve their body into smoke at will. Getting in range was already going to be tricky, now actually hitting them was a concern as well. And what was worse, this thug knew who he was.

He couldn't allow this recognition to distract him, however, as his opponent eventually stopped playfully twirling their guns and opted to take aim, barely giving the young man enough time to construct a simple, two layered shield before six shots rang out. At first Juno thought he was fine, his shield had only broken once before, and that was a fringe case. Then he saw cracks where the rounds impacted.

After about three shots, the shield shattered entirely, dissolving into nothingness and leaving Juno to take two rounds in the chest and one in the shoulder. Whatever kind of gun that was, it was carrying high powered rounds, strong enough to break his shield and send him reeling. Gods, that hurt. But he couldn't afford to stay in one place, his opponent likely had more rounds left in their magazines.

No cover, nowhere to hide... And there were two more to deal with down below. He had to fight.

Juno regained his footing for a moment before slapping the flat of the blade against the roof behind him, sending him forward toward his opponent. However, he was quick to drop into a slide, slashing at his target's legs once he got into his blade's range. At the very least, closing the distance would make it trickier to aim both guns reliably. He could try to maintain his advantage that way.

[Aura:79%]
[Active: 0| Standby: 3| Charging:2]
[Type J: Eruptor Charge: 0. 90% Dust Remaining]