Mr 5 eased himself onto the park bench and let out a groan. He had been right, the day had seemed to stretch on and on. For a moment he shut his eyes and allowed himself to feel the stifling caress of the sun overhead, hear the steady chatter of those who passed him by. It hadn't been easy but he had disguised the damage that had been done, for now. Soon though questions would start to be asked in the King's court, of the sudden disappearance of Commander Shirei and his men. Gurep would do all he could to delay the investigations, but sooner or later the King would find out that Sirei was gone. It was safe to say that Mr 5's time as Clerk for the King had come to an end. The man smiled to himself. Well at least one good thing came out of this sorry affair.

He had been stuck in the Clerk job for too long. Whilst other Officer-Agents had been giving assignments that meant something to the organisation's mission, he had been told to keep an eye on the country's rulers, like some glorified babysitter. Hardly a fitting job for a numbered agent, and a Devil-Fruit user to boot. He knew why they had given him such a dead end job though, it was because he was the newest Officer-Agent, until today untried and untested. Well he hoped he had proved his worth, catching Mr 6's breakdown like that.

Truth be told Mr 6's betrayal had not come as much a surprise. Mr 5 had been keeping a close eye on the man for a while and it had become apparent that he was beginning to crack under the pressure of it all. He had been a fool to go running to the King's men though, he should have known the organisation would have agents in the government. Hell, why did he have to do that? Mr 5 sometimes had doubts about Baroque Works too, but you kept those sort of thing to yourself, a Bounty Hunter's life was no place for a conscience. Now he was dead, along with a whole platoon of good soldiers. What a waste.

The sun was starting descend now, its dying light casting the park in a low orange hue. It was time he got going; after all with his cover gone, Mr 0 was sure to be sending him a new assignment soon, and that meant he was going to need all the sleep he could get. Standing up and digging his hands deep into his robe pockets, Mr 5 made to leave the emptying park. Despite the prospect of arduous work, he smiled to himself, after all every new job brought with it fresh opportunities.

It took no more than two days to receive the news he had been waiting for. During this time he retreated to one of Baroque Works safe houses to wait for the heat to die down. Thereafter he hung about his refuge, knowing soon that Mr 0 would contact him. When they finally did come to him, drifting down from the cloudless sky, he was leaning on the safe house's balcony, looking down on the city he had spent almost a year in. Next thing he knew he was seeing the faint form of some misshapen bird coming towards him over the skyline of the city. It was only as this bird drew closer that Mr 5 realised it was Miss Friday, with Mr 13 on her back.

"What do you two want, huh?" Mr 5 called out as the two agents approached. They remained silent.

Mr 5 found that the two numbered agents unnerved him. There were only two reasons why the Unluckies would pay you a visit. One was that they were delivering a note from the boss, you other, well, to put a bullet in your head.

Miss Friday came to a stop on the balcony and her passenger handed Mr 5 a note. Opening it up, Mr 5 hurriedly read what it had to say. When he was finished he screwed the piece of paper up and clutched it tightly in his hand. He then let off a minute explosion, obliterating the note instantly.

"Tell him I'll be there," he said, a feeling unease creeping over him. The Unluckies nodded and Miss Friday took off again. Soon they were lost in the distant summer haze, leaving Mr 5 once more alone to his thoughts. Quickly he left the balcony and retreated back into the safe house.

This was unusual, suspiciously so. When Mr 13 had handed him the note, Mr 5 had been expecting the name of a new target or cover he was supposed to take, not this. Officer-Agents very rarely met each other in person, and when they did it was usually in the safety of Spider's Café, far away from any possible prying eyes. He didn't like it one bit, this could only mean bad news. But he had to go, to refuse would be to bring down the ire of Mr 0 down on him. Well then, Mr 5 thought to himself, if I'm going to do it, I might as well do it in style.

He went to his bedroom and pulled out from underneath his bed a battered old suitcase. Opening it up he found what he was looking for, a pile of clothes, on top of which sat a trench coat with the number five embroiled on it, and a pink cravat. If I'm going to be meeting that insufferable know it all Mr 3, I might as well do it dressed like a true Officer-Agent of Baroque Works.

The next day found Mr 5 pushing his way through the crowds of Alubarna, now out of his uncomfortable Clerks clothes and dressed in his familiar trench coat. The Hidden café, that was where he was supposed to meet Mr 3. Though he had never been before, Mr 5 had spent long enough in the capital to know where the café was, nestled away in the Merchant's district. At the thought of this he couldn't help but chuckle, it was just like Mr 3 to arrange such a place to meet, even if it meant discovery by the authorities. Well let it be on his cocky little head.

When Mr 5 finally arrived at the café, he found it wedged between two imposing Merchant guild houses. To him it seemed an attempt at hiding the smaller building away from the rest of the public, secreting away a treasure in case it should be found and spoiled. He guessed this was probably the reason why Mr 3 had chosen the place, his own refuge away from the peasants and philistines that troubled his life. Having met the man before, it wouldn't have surprised Mr 5 if this was the case.

Making his way inside the Hidden Cricket Mr 5 found that the walls of the place were covered in paintings, whilst here and there stood plinths upon which sculptures rested. Of course it would be this sort of place. He swept his gaze over the the throng of people that inhabited the café, trying to find Mr 3's unmistakable form. Finally he found the other Officer- Agent, sat in the corner of the café drinking tea, just past the fat merchant with the jewel studded turban and the woman in a yellow dress covered in lemons.

"Ah, good to see you again Mr 5," said Mr 3 as the other agent approached. Mr 5 hurriedly looked about him, at the swell of faces that surrounded them.

"Is this really the best place to use my codename like that?" Mr 5 hissed as he sat down opposite the other man.

"Oh please Mr 5, I didn't just choose this place for the art you know. It's a busy day for the café, who's going to pay attention to the conversation of two customers out of many. Besides the owner of the café is a friend of mine, he'll see to it that there are no undesirables listening in on our conversation." Mr 5 relaxed at this news. So we're on safe ground then.

It was at that point that a particular sculpture caught Mr 5's eye, stood on a plinth right beside the table they were at. It was a wax statue of a man who appeared to be in great pain. His affliction was so severe in fact it caused the man to double over and grasp at his stomach, his expression that of pure, unrelenting pain.

"Ah, do you like the art my friend?" said Mr3, noticing the attention Mr 5 paid the sculpture besides them, " I know for someone like you it must be difficult to grasp, but I can assure you that they only except the very best here, after all they did take in my own work." The Officer-Agent inclined his head towards the pained, wax man. Mr 5 shook his head. He wanted to escape the café, its pretentious customers and Mr 3's sick art.

"Is there a reason why you brought me here today Mr 3, or are we just going to discuss art all day," said Mr 5, tired of the man's egotism.

"Of course, well let's just get right to it then," replied Mr 3, smirking, "How long have you been an Officer-Agent Mr 5?"

"Six months"

"And during these six months you've been without a partner, am I correct?" Oh no. Mr 5 knew where this was going. He thought he had proven that he didn't need a partner, that he could do any assignment given to him on his own.

"I thought that by catching out Mr 6 I proved to the boss that I didn't need a partner," said Mr 5, his hands clenching into fists.

"But the Mr 6 incident is the reason why Mr 0 feels it prudent to give you a partner," said Mr 3, taking sip of his tea, "You proved that you can be a good little Officer-Agent, and now the boss trusts that you can do more difficult work. But a partner is required for all numbered agents, well, except for Mr 2, he's special."

"I work better on my own though, someone else will just slow me down though," said Mr 5. That certainly had been the case during his career as a bounty hunter. He had needed no one then, why should he need a partner now?

"Are you telling me that your refusing Mr 0's request?" Mr 3 said, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow, "because that's what it sounds like to me."

Mr 5 felt his heartbeat quicken. Now that was a thought, refusing an order from the boss of Baroque Works. The next visit he received from the Unluckies could very well be of a more deadly kind.

"I guess I don't really have a choice then," Mr 5 said, through greeted teeth.

"Good, good, then I won't have to inform Mr 0 about another possible defector then," said Mr 3, a smirk playing across his lips.

"When will my partner arrive then," Mr 5 asked, dejected.

"Ha! That's the best part, she's already here. Mr 5, may I introduce you to your new partner, Miss Valentine," proclaimed Mr 3 with a flourish. No sooner had he said this than the woman sitting behind him, the one in the lemon dress, stood up and turned to face them.

"Mr 5, it's so nice to finally meet you," said the woman, a vast smile on her face.