CHAPTER 52: INTERLUDE: VICTOR’S SCHEMES

In one of the capital’s luxurious cafés, a man was calmly enjoying his coffee. His hair and beard, both whitened by age, earned him respectful nods from other patrons especially given that the elderly man was dressed in a fine black suit with grey pinstripes.

He looked every bit the image of a high ranking imperial official nearing retirement.

At least, that’s what an average citizen would have thought of him just as planned. That was the public identity he maintained for the time being.

But for those who operated on the fringes of the law, even if his face wasn’t widely known, his name had been echoing through the black market for the past week.

This old man was none other than Victor, also known as "The White Ghost", head of the new criminal organization The Dark Ghost.

Victor slowly sipped his drink, until the café’s bell rang, signaling the entrance of a customer. As soon as she stepped in, she immediately spotted Victor and came to sit across from him.

Brenda gently placed the newspapers she had gone out to get on the table, then ordered from a nearby waitress.

"An iced tea, please?"

"Right away, miss."

As soon as the waitress walked away, Victor set down his cup and asked:

"What took you so long?"

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I had to go through over a dozen stores to find these."

"That many?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. They’re selling faster than hotcakes. According to one seller, people were fighting over them like it was a Christmas sale. And even then, he said that comparison didn’t do it justice."

"Haha, sounds like we could make some extra money off this," Victor remarked, picking up a paper with one hand and stroking his beard with the other.

The headline, printed in large bold letters, read: Invictus Has Fallen, accompanied by a photo of the fortress in ruins.

Victor read each line slowly, carefully, not wanting to miss a word.

Though... truthfully, he didn’t need the paper to know what it said.

The fall of Invictus and especially the way it had been destroyed had deeply shocked the Empire.

The abuse of power by the fortress commander, the enforced blockade of the serum, and worst of all, the death of nearly all the inhabitants of Astoria, leaving only children under sixteen alive, had triggered a wave of public outrage.

The reputation of the officials responsible for its defense took a massive blow, especially as rumors began to spread: not only had the high command been aware of Major Kraft’s extremist tendencies, they had even been warned of the incoming attack.

An extremist... that was now how the media portrayed the major.

The government had done everything it could to hide the truth.

But unfortunately for them, someone had sold the scoop to a foreign newspaper, which managed to smuggle the article into the Empire through underground channels.

Victor savored the journalist’s choice of words, as they didn’t hold back in slamming the Empire’s domestic policies, accusing them of being the root of this tragedy.

"So?" Brenda asked, interrupting his reading.

"What?"

"The Order’s not just going to sit back and do nothing. After all, the Empire broke an unspoken rule."

"Indeed," Victor replied.

"Even if it was the personal decision of a single officer, forcing people to awaken without their consent is a serious crime.

The Empire will surely lose its privileges. That’ll put it on the same level as the Republic.

But hey, the more chaos, the better for us. The higher-ups will be too busy negotiating with the Order to pay attention to small fish like us. Which gives us just enough time to become the kings of the pond."

Brenda shook her head.

"What I don’t get is why the article doesn’t mention Sirius, Iris, Lucy, or even the Star or that monstrous Calamity.

The report muddies the waters, suggesting the final sacrifice of the fortress soldiers was what pushed back the Calamity army..."

Victor remained calm. He saw things from a perspective Brenda hadn’t yet grasped.

He took an old cigar from his jacket and brought it to his mouth before answering:

"The Order must have stepped in to erase that part of the story.

After all, some truths aren’t meant for the common people.

And honestly, what does it matter? We were handsomely paid for the information.

If they don’t publish it, we lose nothing.

Anyone wanting to uncover the world’s secrets can pay us a fortune."

Brenda sighed.

"If you say so... Still, Lucy, Sirius, and Iris are in a tight spot. Maybe even ahead of us..."

"It’s pointless," Victor interrupted.

He picked up a lighter to light his cigar, but his trembling hand forced him to try several times before a flame finally flared.

His eyebrows furrowed, his expression darkened, as he recalled his last conversation with Sirius... and the pact they had made.

Victor kept telling himself it was only a farewell, not a goodbye.

But accepting that the kids had grown and were walking a darker path than his own still broke his heart.

He had to take a deep drag from his cigar to gather the strength to speak.

"Expose the truth? Twist the facts to paint Iris and the others as heroes who saved hundreds of thousands of lives?

Damn... they’re real zeroes.

They made their choice, and we have to respect it. Sirius knew this might happen.

At best, if they’re sent to prison, then I’ll give him what I promised.

All we can do now is hope those kids don’t get too roughed up... because I will beat the hell out of them myself no matter how long it takes."

Brenda chuckled.

("Sometimes, he really acts like a father...") she thought.

Then she remembered:

"This café is non-smoking. You need to put out your cigar."

Victor didn’t care and waved her off.

"Hand me the list of local thugs instead. Let’s see who we can recruit.

After all, The Dark Ghost can’t stay a two-man crew forever.

We’ve got work to do. Eventually, we’ll need a new base, a small business to launder our side income, and..."

"Sir, this is a non-smoking establishment. Could you please put out your cigar? You’re disturbing the other customers."

The waitress had returned, speaking politely.

But Victor stared at her for a moment, glanced at the other patrons, then crushed his cigar on the table. He tucked it back into his jacket and asked:

"How much would this café cost me, if I wanted to smoke here?"

The waitress looked confused. Victor rephrased:

"I’ll pay double—no, triple—the value of this place. Call the owner."

"Sir, you must be joking," the waitress scoffed.

To be fair, this café was quite prestigious, just a few steps from the Imperial Palace.

Its reputation and location made it worth a fortune.

Victor, though elegantly dressed, still gave off the air of a retiring civil servant.

Regardless, he simply nodded to Brenda and calmly picked up his cigar again.

Brenda slapped her forehead, sighed, and pulled a small suitcase from under the table.

She opened it slightly, revealing its contents to the waitress.

The poor woman nearly popped her eyes out at what she saw inside.

She rushed behind the counter, yelling for her coworker to call the owner immediately.

And that’s how Victor’s infamous criminal organization The Dark Ghost was truly born.