Morning at Lau's hideout—a scrap yard near Geln Cavern—smelled of damp rust and faint blood. Leaning against the wall, Silas pressed a hand to his side. Under the bandages, his broken ribs throbbed dully. Still, better than yesterday. The back-alley doctor had set the bones just barely shy of puncturing his lung, apparently. "[serious]That bastard Deacon. Every morning, seven o'clock sharp, he walks into the bakery at the end of Mainspring Street." Lau flipped idly through his notebook as he spoke. The small man, his face a map of old scars, wore his usual tattered coat. Its countless pockets seemed stuffed with scraps of information. "[serious]Always orders chamomile tea. Takes one sip, then pulls out his wallet. Exactly fifteen minutes." "[sarcastic]How do you even know that?" Still leaning against the wall, Kaitlin stared at Lau with exasperation. Her long crimson hair was slightly damp from the gray smog. She seemed to have gotten used to the air in this scrap yard, too. Lau snapped his notebook shut and answered without expression. "[serious]Because I'm an information broker." "[sarcastic]Excuse me?" "[serious]I'm an information broker. So I know. Obviously." He said it with such a dead-serious face that Silas couldn't help a wry laugh. It jarred his side. Hurts. "[sarcastic]So, Mister Information Broker, you got us written down in that notebook too?" "[serious]Of course." Kaitlin's golden eyes glinted. "[cold]Is my information in there?" Lau fell silent for a few seconds. "[serious]…No." The reply came too fast. Everyone read the air and didn't press further. Lau, face still deadpan, stared up at the ceiling. There was nothing to see up there, but he studied it intently. Silas sighed and pushed himself off the wall. "[serious]Here's the plan. While Deacon's eating breakfast, Kaitlin lures him out. Once she's got him in the alley, I'll lift the entry code card." "[angry]No." Instant answer. She folded her arms and looked Silas straight in the eye. "[serious]Your ribs are still broken. There's no way you can pickpocket someone in an alley." "[angry]Shut up, this is nothing—" He started to argue, then coughed. The taste of blood at the back of his throat. Kaitlin stepped closer and pressed a hand to his shoulder. "[angry]See? You're pushing yourself. I'll be the decoy." "[angry]No. That bastard's obsessed with you. No telling what he'll do." "[cold]That's exactly why." Her voice dropped a little lower. "[serious]Because he's obsessed, I'm the surest way to draw him out. And besides—" She placed her hand gently on Silas's bandaged chest. "[whispers]I won't let you get hurt any more than this." Silas started to say something, then stopped. Her hand was warm. Still leaning against the wall, Lau muttered quietly. "[serious]…Am I allowed to be here?" Both of them turned at once. Lau was still staring at the ceiling. His face was utterly serious. —— Morning on Mainspring Street was filthy as always. Neon signs flickered and buzzed while street vendors shouted over each other. In front of a cheap tavern, a drunk who'd passed out the night before lay sleeping on the roadside. The air was heavy with gray smog and the smell of burnt oil. In front of the bakery sign—a cracked wooden board that read only "Becker's"—Deacon Murdock was sipping chamomile tea. His short silver hair was neatly combed, his gray eyes cold and narrowed. His gray deputy enforcer uniform was so clean it looked out of place on this grimy street. "[whispers]Deacon." Kaitlin called out from behind him. Deacon turned slowly. "[surprised]…Kaitlin." His expression changed in an instant. The coldness in his eyes twisted into something gleeful. The corners of his mouth pulled up, twitching. "[whispers]You've finally come to see me." His left hand unconsciously searched his breast pocket. He pulled out a small hair clip. Kaitlin's. Did he carry it with him everywhere? Kaitlin forced down her nausea and put on a fake smile. "[whispers]I have something I want to talk about. Just the two of us." She jerked her chin toward the alley. Deacon nodded happily, three times. "[gentle]Of course. Wherever you wish, I'll go anywhere." The moment they stepped into the alley, Silas's hand reached out from the shadow of the wall. Soundlessly. Deacon's coat pocket opened in the split second he was distracted, gazing at Kaitlin. Fingertips slipped out the plastic entry code card. Silas held his breath, pressing his back against the wall. His ribs screamed, but he clenched his teeth. Inside the alley, Deacon was trying to take Kaitlin's hand. "[whispers]As long as I have you, I can forgive everything. The Zaifert Industries matter, Ash Wednesday, all of it—" "[cold]Enough." Kaitlin shook off his hand and turned on her heel. "[surprised]Wh…?" She didn't look back, walking out of the alley. Deacon was left alone in the dim street. "[whispers]…Kaitlin?" No answer. He looked up at the sky. Only the neon lights flickered on and off. —— The other side of the alley. Silas held up the code card, and Kaitlin came running over. "[sarcastic]How are the ribs?" "[sarcastic]Idiot, don't ask." They looked at each other and laughed quietly at the same time. In that moment, the noise of the alley, the gray smog—none of it mattered. —— Late night at Zaifert Industries headquarters. The massive white building was silent as a gravestone floating in the night's darkness. The single guard at the front entrance was dozing in the lobby chair. Silas swiped the stolen code through the card reader. —Beep. A green light blinked on, and the back door opened without a sound. "[whispers]Let's go." They slipped through the corridors, threading the security cameras' blind spots, and climbed the stairs. The central server room was at the far end of the third floor. Only the emergency lights were on in the hallway. In front of the server room door, Silas nodded to Kaitlin. She quickly booted up the terminal and began accessing the system. Silas held the hallway door and strained his ears. —Clack, clack. Footsteps. The security patrol. Five minutes earlier than scheduled. "[whispers]Shit." Silas clicked his tongue and dove into the room. He shut the door and pressed his back against it. Dark. The server room, without even emergency lights, was faintly warm from the machines' heat. Right next to Kaitlin, Silas pressed his back against the wall. Close enough that their shoulders touched. From her hair, a faint trace of perfume lingered. The elegant floral scent of Piltover, mingling with the smell of machine oil and dust. —Clack, clack. The footsteps drew closer. Silas held his breath. Kaitlin's shoulder trembled slightly. Was she scared—or… Her hand, in the darkness, touched Silas's wrist. Softly. —Clack… clack… clack… The footsteps faded into the distance. He exhaled. Their two breaths mingled. In the darkness, they turned to face each other without a word. Their eyes met. But neither could look away. Seconds. Only the sound of their hearts seemed impossibly loud. "[whispers]…Data copy complete." Kaitlin looked away first. Her voice trembled slightly. "[serious]Let's upload it." They both turned back to the terminal at the same time. Kaitlin's fingers struck the keyboard. —Send. The screen flared pure white for an instant. —— Sunwheel Square, before dawn. A massive public screen stood as if gazing up at the statue of the "Goddess of Progress." The screen, which usually showed weather forecasts and product advertisements, suddenly switched to pitch black. And then— 『Deacon Murdock — Monthly Transfer Records』 Text blazed across the screen. Strings of numbers. The full extent of the bribes from Zaifert Industries to Deacon. Next came internal documents regarding the fabricated evidence against Kaitlin Fails. 『—Regarding the suspected collusion of the enforcer in question: insufficient evidence. Testimony from Deputy Deacon Murdock contains contradictions.』 "[surprised]Hey, this is…!" "[angry]The enforcers framed someone?!" Citizens who had begun gathering in the square started buzzing. Deacon, who happened to be on his way to work, stopped in his tracks when he saw his own name displayed on the main street screen. "[scared]Wh… what is this…" The eyes of everyone around him turned on him all at once. "[angry]This baseless… fabrication! This is, this is—" His voice cracked, his expression twitching. Not a shred of his usual cold elegance remained. "[crying]Kaitlin… Kaitlin just doesn't understand me! I'm the only one who can protect her! I'm the only one—" "[cold]Deputy Murdock. You're being detained on suspicion of obstruction of duty." Enforcers who had rushed over after receiving the report grabbed Deacon by the arms. "[angry]Let go! I'm right! Kaitlin! Where is Kaitlin—!" His shouts were swallowed up by the commotion in the square. —— From the rooftop of the headquarters building, Silas and Kaitlin looked down at it all. The pre-dawn wind was cold, stirring their hair. In the square below, Deacon was being led away by the enforcers. The angry shouts and cheers of the citizens mixed together, reaching them even here. Kaitlin let out a short breath. "[whispers]…It's over, isn't it." She closed her eyes. The tension drained from her shoulders. Silas said nothing, just placed a hand gently on her shoulder. —— The harbor at dawn. A cargo ship's whistle echoed through the mist. The smell of the tide. The smell of salt. Zaun's smog didn't reach this far. Lau pressed a crumpled scrap of paper into Silas's hand. "[serious]Take this with you." "[sarcastic]What is it?" "[serious]The one funneling money to Zaifert Industries is someone on the Commerce Council. I couldn't get a name, but the money trail is here." Having said only that, Lau turned his back and started walking. He didn't look back. "[sarcastic]Hey, what about thanks—" "[sarcastic]Don't need 'em. Stay alive." Lau waved a hand lazily and vanished into the morning mist. Beside him, Kaitlin looked up at the cargo ship. Her crimson hair danced softly in the sea breeze. "[gentle]You're going." "[serious]Of course." Silas shoved the memo into his jacket's inner pocket and took Kaitlin's hand. Her fingers were cold. But she gripped his firmly in return. "[serious]With you, I'd start over from scratch even at the bottom of hell." "[sarcastic]I've already had more than enough of the bottom of hell." "[sarcastic]Then next time, let's aim for the top." Hand in hand, they climbed the cargo ship's gangway. The ship slowly pulled away from the harbor. Piltover's white towers were beginning to gleam in the morning sun. Zaun's smog lay gray and sunken beneath that light. Silas leaned against the deck railing, feeling the texture of the memo in his inner pocket with his fingertips. —Zaifert Industries. The Commerce Council. His revenge wasn't over yet. But, for now— Kaitlin, standing beside him, leaned gently against his arm. Her golden eyes gazed out beyond the horizon. "[whispers]Where to next?" "[serious]Who knows. But—" Silas squeezed her hand back. "[serious]If it's the two of us, we can go anywhere, right?" The ship picked up speed, cutting through the dawn-lit sea. Behind them, the city of two layers, still a contrast of light and shadow, slowly grew smaller and smaller.