"What do you mean I have to be the one who interviews him?"
Eren's boss sighed as he set down his tea cup. "You're the newbie, and you need something under your belt. Wouldn't you rather it be the scariest serial killer since Jack the Ripper?"
Eren swallowed. In his opinion, Jack the Ripper was a petty thief compared to the man he's being assigned to. "I'm not sure that's entirely true—"
"Look Yeager," Levi said, "it's now or never. You need to expand your horizons."
"I did," he said, "I used to only do celebrity leaks, but now I'm a sports journalist! Why does a sports journalist need to interview a psycho in an insane asylum?"
"Because nobody in the division that does deal with psychos in an insane asylum is willing to do it."
"And so putting a mild-mannered sports journalist is going to solve the problem?!"
"First off, you are not mild-mannered," Levi said, "and second, this could earn you that promotion over Ackerman you've been striving for."
Eren thought for a moment. "That…sounds nice…"
He has been wanting to get a promotion over his foster sister ever since they got here—all throughout their life she'd been better than him at everything, and maybe this could be his chance to actually excel beyond her, especially since she actually was an investigative journalist who does deals with psychos in insane asylums.
Then again, if she refused to see him, this guy must be something…
"I'll do it," he said with resolve.
"Don't be so sure," his boss said, tossing him a file. "We've been interviewing this asylum for a while, trying to figure out how criminals work—you know the drill. The man was just recently allowed to be interviewed by us, and now nobody has the balls to do it."
"I'll do it," Eren said again.
Levi nodded. "His name is Armin Arlert—a genius prodigy who's done some pretty gross stuff—I'm not going into detail because it's all in that file. He's escaped prison several times, though nobody knows how. I'm pretty sure he kills just because he can, but I'm not him, thank god."
Eren winced as he read through the files. It ranged from simple petty theft—how ironic—to murder and even cannibalism—how disturbing.
"I'm counting on you," Levi said, "but I won't blame you if you piss yourself with fear. The last time someone interviewed this man—"
"They became a victim," Eren finished, "I'm not surprised."
"Actually no," his boss said, "his wife did."
Eren tensed. He didn't have a wife, but he had a sister. If she gets harmed…
"Just stick with the facts," Levi advised, "don't be nice to him, be cold and distant. He has a way of making you trust him, but remember this—looks are deceiving."
"'Looks are deceiving," he repeated, "I shall keep that in mind."
"Thank you," Levi said, "I don't feel like losing any more reporters."
With that ominous statement, Eren was shooed out of the office.
"You shouldn't do this Eren."
Eren rolled his eyes as he double checked his things. "Of course you'd say that," he muttered, "just because you were too afraid to do it, then there's no way I could do it."
"Eren," Mikasa said, "he's a dangerous man. He's done things."
"And he'll be separated from me through six inches of bullet-proof glass," Eren said, "yes, he's dangerous, but he can't get to me."
"That's where you're wrong," Mikasa said, "He may not be able to hurt you physically, but he'll play mind games. He can get inside your head."
"I'm only asking questions," Eren muttered.
"And who knows how he'll answer?"
"I'm going to do this Mikasa," Eren said, turning to his sister. "You can't stop me."
Mikasa looked at him for a moment, and then looked down. "Okay," she relented, "but…don't trust him, okay. He may look innocent, but looks can be deceiving."
Eren stopped. Looks are deceiving.
That was the same exact advice that his boss gave him.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, "now I have to go. I'll see you later."
Mikasa nodded. "Okay. Be safe."
Eren smiled at his sister. "Don't worry, I will."
"Hello, I'm Journalist Eren Yeager," Eren said, showing the receptionist his badge, "and I'm here to interview Armin Arlert."
The receptionist stopped her typing and looked up at him, eyes wide. All noise within earshot had vanished, and he suddenly felt self-conscious.
"I'm sorry," the receptionist said after coming out of her shocked stupor, "who?"
"I'm Eren—"
"I heard your name," she said, "You said you wanted to interview who?"
Eren sighed. He didn't know why he was so surprised—after what Levi said, who would go try to interview him? He's only doing it to prove to Mikasa that he can take care of himself and that he's better than her at one thing.
Sibling rivalry can only get you so far…
"Armin Arlert," he repeated, "yes, I know he's probably one of the worst people to walk the earth, but it's complicated."
The receptionist gave him a look of pity. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "I'll call Dr. Smith, and he'll be right here to bring you to…his cell."
"Thank you," he said.
"Oh, and one piece of advice," the receptionist said, "he may be cute, but looks are deceiving."
Cute?
"I know, I know," he said, "You're literally the third person to say that."
"Because it's important," the receptionist said, "The universe is trying to stress how important it is."
Now he was starting to feel even more freaked out. "Well it's drilled into my mind now," he said, "thanks."
The receptionist nodded. "You're welcome."
A tall, strong looking man strode into the room wearing a white jacket and a nametag that read Dr. Erwin Smith.
"You're Mr. Yeager, I take it," Dr. Smith said, holding out his hand to shake.
Eren took it and shook it firmly. "Yes I am, and I'm with the Maria Monthly to do a special in the investigative section on one of the most dangerous criminals in the world."
"But you're a renowned sports journalist," he said, "why are you dealing with psychos in an insane asylum?"
"I keep asking myself that question," Eren laughed, "to be honest, it's because my sister—who's better at everything—turned it down."
"So you stepped up as a way to prove yourself," Dr. Smith finished. "Ah sibling rivalry… me and my sister are like that."
Eren laughed. "That's an interesting relationship…"
They continued to walk and talk until they reached a large door that read KEEP OUT in large, bold red lettering.
"Down here is his cell, in the basement," he said, putting a finger to a scanner, then his eye. After all of that, he did voice recognition, and the door finally opened.
"Now he's just down here."
Eren swallowed. "Got it. Lead the way."
Erwin Smith started down the steps, and Eren followed behind.
Dr. Smith stopped walking, and Eren realized they had stopped at a large, titanium door. It had a large lock on the front, and a tiny window about eye level. He peeked through it and noticed there was at least nine other doors after this one.
"He's probably lonely," he muttered, "I didn't even know insane asylums were even this…"
"Protected?" Dr. Smith finished, "they're not. This was specially designed for him. He's a bad man. Don't pity him or you'll end up dead."
"You mean Ar—"
"Do not say his name," Dr. Smith interrupted, "but yes. Him.
"He's right within these doors," Dr. Smith said, "now let me discuss the rules—do not be nice, do not ask any details on methods of murder, and above all, do not, under any circumstances, give any personal information whatsoever."
Eren nodded. "Of course."
"And a piece of advice," Dr. Smith added, "he may look innocent—"
"But looks are deceiving," Eren finished, "yes, I know, I can tell. You're the fourth person to say that to me. It's drilled into my brain."
Dr. Smith nodded. "Good."
And then the doors opened.
