Heritors of Hereafter
Book 1: Hearts of Pride
By: Thomas A. Hawk
Edited By: dashboardgecko
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Monster Hunter, nor do I own Capcom. If I did I would probably be doing something else with my time instead of writing fanfics. All the characters that appear in this story belong to me unless otherwise stated.
Chapter 9: Rebound
Midafternoon at the southern Guild gate. Half-eaten sandwich to his left, full coffee mug to his right, and between both, all the notes he'd compiled on the five individuals Jim had told him about a couple days before. Information gleaned from dossiers and interrogations, all combined with the hearsay they learned from those interviewed at the eastern gate. There must've been more than twenty pages total there.
And yet, Corvus' frustrations had only grown over the last few days.
Nothing stood out. Literally the only thing they had on Kilroy was that the stamp was his—no evidence that he'd been the one using it, and certainly no motive either. The Governor was literally spotless. Uther hadn't even been in town, having been sent off by Kilroy weeks before this debacle even started to use up the vacation days he'd amassed over the last ten years. Shelly and Shelby, one of whom was the girl Corvus had flirted with and who he could no longer tell apart from her identical sibling, had the most concrete testimonies of the bunch since they always had an officer accompany them into Governor's chambers (apparently they'd worked for a weird boss before and didn't want anything happening). That left Edison, who despite being incredibly shady, lacking a solid alibi, and trying to dodge questions near-constantly, ultimately ended up being guilty only of stealing pens off of his colleagues' desks to horde in one of his drawers. Klept-OCD, he called it.
So he was left with literally nothing to go off of. He'd insisted to the others that these were good leads, so all the time they could have spent looking for previous employees was spent here instead. Wasting time. They barely had time as it was! The culprit was probably nearly done preparing to smuggle the zenni they'd scammed out of the city's population as he sat here scarfing down a sandwich and looking at several days' worth of unnecessary hand cramps in written form, trying to find anything that stood out to him.
He glanced up towards the wall—five o'clock. The others would be coming back in soon. Dominic had at least taken the precaution of drawing up the names of previous east gate employees, but he and Ricard both insisted Corvus stay behind while they went and asked questions. 'Look over the notes,' they'd said. 'Maybe there's something you missed,' they'd said. It was apparent based on their tones alone that, especially after he nearly went out and brought Kilroy in for questioning, they just thought he'd somehow do more damage.
Like there were any OTHER leads in the first place, he thought, scowling angrily as he flipped through the pages for what felt like the hundredth time while taking a vicious bite of his sandwich. Maybe it was one of the previous Governors after all? Or a vice-head of the Guild gate? Someone pissed about the current management and who wanted to make them look bad… and enrich their bank account in the process. That made sense, right? It had to be someone important, someone big, or someone who wanted to be either of those things. Had their plan been executed better they very well could have trashed the Guild's reputation!
And yet, they didn't. They hadn't tried to move the funds through the Guild's channels—all the numbers checked out. The upper parts of the management were all completely innocent, and still appeared as such to the average Joe. The lower branches were also devoid of suspicion. Dominic had even suggested they try and trace the wax used for the seals, only for them to learn at Fischer and Company that the last 'big' purchases that could have come close to meeting that quota was an order six months back from the Guild post office in Grunhill, and a more recent order from the Ran Fos Guild itself. Except, the Guild's supply from that order was pretty much still in the packaging. That just completely flew in the face of all the evidence they had so far! It made no sense!
Finishing his late lunch and slamming his cooled coffee down in a few quick gulps, the surveyor sat back in his seat, running his hands through his hair with a long sigh. It'd been weeks of non-stop working on this case, and here he was, feeling as though he'd completely run himself into a wall. Him, an Adler! This wasn't supposed to happen to him! He was supposed to solve his first big case in grandiose fashion, unearthing a big conspiracy and proving to everyone around here that he was special! This was supposed to be his chance to show everyone else around here that even though he was so much younger than they were, he was every bit as capable as them, if not more! But this? This was not how things were meant to go.
He grumbled in irritation and glanced around the room, seeing the other surveyors working at their own desks or otherwise going about their business. Chances were the other more experienced ones had dealt with similar cases before, right? Asking for advice might not have been such a bad idea... but Corvus shook his head at the thought. An Adler didn't need to ask for help. His pride wouldn't let him.
As his gaze trailed around the room though, he saw the door to the captain's office open, and Viper stepped into the main room. Oddly, his normally relaxed expression was hidden behind a concerned scowl. He briskly strode across the room to the desk of one of the senior-level surveyors, a black-haired fellow by the name of Leonard. The two exchanged words for a few minutes, and the surveyor's face paled somewhat, only for him to push himself up the moment their conversation ended and begin heading for the exit. Corvus raised an eyebrow at that; what happened to make Leonard rush off like that?
Corvus found that he didn't have much time to ponder that as Viper next strode to his desk, rapping his knuckles sharply on the corner and signaling for him to follow along. He swallowed hard, expecting a reprimand or a sharp critique on the horizon… he'd already heard quite a few 'you messed up' talks through the walls, considering they were a lot louder than the 'congratulations' speeches. But, he wasn't in much position to dawdle, so Corvus followed after the man. He carefully pulled the door shut behind him as the captain settled into his desk.
"So, I've heard you and the others have run into a bit of a roadblock on this whole voucher thing," Viper began, earning a dejected huff from the young surveyor. "How are you faring?"
"Oh, y'know, just dandy. No leads, no suspects, no time—"
"I didn't ask about the case, kid. I asked how you were faring. I didn't know when I first assigned you to these voucher investigations that it'd turn out to be much bigger than a simple get-rich scheme. Not exactly the biggest case we've ever seen, but still. I'd have preferred to keep you working the small things for a while, build up more experience, but… well, here we are."
Corvus simply sighed and shook his head, walking off a few paces to the side and folding his arms. "I know for a fact that I've given it everything I've got. I know I'm putting the work in. I feel like I'm doing everything right. But it just… ugh, it makes no sense! Shouldn't the solution have presented itself by now?! It did with the Ludroth case, and you said it yourself—that was something you'd normally reserve for trained surveyors! I could solve that, an illegal monster breeding ring, but not this stupid meal ticket nonsense?!"
"Not every case is cut and dry. I'd even argue that the reason you managed to handle the breeding ring was specifically because of the added pressure. You performed better because you had to. If you didn't step up then, that meant people might get hurt or worse. You were thinking about them, not you."
"I… suppose." Where was he going with this? Viper usually let out one or two curses by this point from what Corvus knew. Now he was just melancholy.
"Here's what I think, little bud. You're worrying too much about yourself and not enough about the real reason surveyors do what they do. That little stunt with trying to bring Kilroy in like a common thug is proof enough of that. You're getting so caught up in this big delusion of grandeur that you're forgetting your station, and that'll reflect badly on all of us. I don't need my surveyors doing that, and the Guild doesn't need that kind of publicity either."
"Uh… where is this going…?"
"Not nearly as badly as you're probably thinking. I know that you're better than this, Corvus, but your stubborn pride is really getting in the way here. You're making this case out to be something bigger than it actually is, and it's clouding your judgement. Plus, you've really done a number on the breakroom coffee maker. So I'm sending you home early. Get some rest, spend some time with Wes and Mila, reevaluate why you became a surveyor, and get back to it with a fresh mind tomorrow."
"I don't need to spend any time with him—"
"You've spoken with me more in the last month than you have your own father. Would it kill you to drop the attitude for once and just have a casual chat with the guy? I think you need it as much as he does... and that's saying something."
"Look boss, let's keep work and home life separate, alright?" the surveyor scowled, folding his arms while glaring pointedly at the floor. Viper groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, letting one of his arms thump onto the desk before him.
"I'm not arguing about this. I've got enough on my plate with this whole Demitri mess as-is, so you go get your head in the game, and get this case solved. If not, I'll punt you off the squad and find someone else who will."
"A-alright… but what's the problem with Demitri? I thought he had a long assignment in Mistwood or something."
"The problem is that I don't know. But, that's for me to worry about. You're off the clock for the rest of the day, so get on out of here."
Corvus reluctantly nodded, and with a short sigh he departed the captain's office. He could practically feel the eyes of the other surveyors on him, lingering only a moment too long, as he walked back to his desk and began to pull his things together. He wasn't particularly angry or upset about this—in all honesty he'd anticipated far worse—but Viper's words did still leave him feeling like there was a pit in his stomach. Maybe taking a step away from all this for night was what he needed…
Rain pattered heavily against the roof of the Adler's home, filling each room with a steady unending drone. Some might find that kind of noise soothing, others, annoying. Wes had decided a short number of years ago that the sound of rain against the windows of an empty house was nothing less than haunting, and thus, did his best to keep it out of mind. He had some time before he had to head over to the Eagle's Perch for the late night shift, so he instead had busied himself with the housework that had piled up over the last few days. Dishes needed to be done, floors needed cleaning, mail needed to be sorted, bills and taxes paid, putting away decorations from the last holiday season. The average life was considerably more droll than the life of a hunter, but Wes had long since reconciled that fact. Only occasionally did he feel the call to return to the hunting grounds.
That call was never more powerful than it was whenever he came across the twin blades he kept stored away in a trunk in the attic. With a low sigh the silver-haired man gazed down at the white falchions lying parallel in their case. Cryfder and Datrys, the blades his father York had made for him so long ago, and which he had wielded up until his last day as a hunter. The strange properties of the blades kept them in pristine condition despite years of going unused, though the leather wrapped grips and recurved silver metal guards certainly showed their age.
A moment of hesitation, and he lifted his hand towards one of the blades. They seemed to glow slightly brighter as his palm neared the grip, wrapping a mystical white aura around the falchions' edges. His hand paused in midair before his fingers fully wrapped around the grip, though. As he stared intently at the blades, his mind played back his past battles with them. As each fight played through in his mind, the rain outside seemed to fall harder and harder against the windows, up until it was a nearly deafening cascade. Then—
You've done enough! Now fall back before you keel over!
Not… not yet…! Not while she's still…
Wes shuddered, shaking his head clear and forcing his hand away from the blades. He knew it was all just a trick of his mind—the rain outside fell just as it had before, flowing down the glass panes like clear streams. He abruptly shut the case and put it back into its place atop a few crates holding decorations, sighing as he stepped down the ladder out of the attic and went downstairs into the living room. He crouched low by the fireplace and tossed a couple logs in from the stack off to the side, thinking some light and warmth might help keep the darker thoughts out of his head.
He dropped into the seat behind him after striking up a roaring, crackling fire, picking up a book he'd mostly finished from the small table beside him to wile away the time until he had to head out. After only two or three pages, however, he heard the front door open, and a pair of boots step into the foyer. Obviously it wasn't Mila—her Aura was unmistakable, and she always announced her return very, very loudly. But it was awfully early for Corvus to be home, wasn't it?
He turned his head as the owner of the footsteps came into view, and sure enough there stood his son, wearing a sour expression while he grumbled under his breath about something. His eyes briefly glanced towards Wes, only to dart elsewhere the second their gazes met.
"Welcome home, kiddo. You get off work early today?" he asked, closing the book and sitting up from his reclined position. Corvus huffed and shook his head.
"Something like that. Where's Mila?"
The response was as short and curt as most had been for the last few years, but it still didn't fail to make Wes' expression darken. "She left on a quest with Falia and that Lowell guy earlier. Local gig, so she should be rolling back in soon enough. How's the voucher investigation coming along? Mila told me you were making good headway on it, but… well, you know how she is. The story was jumbled."
"It's going fine. Viper just thought I needed a break because I was working too hard."
"Really? Despite appearances the guy likes to run a tight ship, so that's kinda surprising. Want to talk about the case? or... is it confidential?"
"Confidential." Corvus abruptly turned and began to head towards the stairs, choosing to again cut the conversation short. "I'm going to draw for a while. Don't bug me unless the house is burning down."
"Alright," Wes sighed dejectedly. "You got a letter from one of your friends, by the way. I left it on your nightstand."
"Thanks."
"And do you mind cleaning your room up a little? I nearly killed myself on one of those cardstock tube things again."
Corvus just muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he went out of sight, leaving Wes to frown and just sink back into his seat, opening the book again but only half paying attention to the words. Wes knew why his son acted so curt and distant. He'd acted that way ever since Sabrina's passing, which by no means was something easily forgotten by anyone in the family. It had been nearly ten years since then though, yet Corvus still blamed him for what happened. And they said time cured all wounds… not that Wes himself had any room to judge.
He didn't think Corvus' attitude wasn't justified, but Wes simply wished he could get through to him again. He knew it wasn't impossible—over the years they still shared a few moments of closeness—but that didn't mean it would be easy. He'd tried and tried, but at some point he'd been forced to accept that there wasn't really much he could do if his son kept shutting him out. He understood that… but as a father, nothing caused him more unease. He wondered if this feeling was at all similar to how his old friend Ruby felt, not even knowing what had become of her own son when he suddenly disappeared many years ago, with her unable to search for him and only fleeting rumors for her to keep hoping that he was alright.
"Never gets any easier for us, does it…" he muttered, resting his head on his hand as he stared blankly at the pages before him, too lost in thought now to even pay attention to them anymore. Nearly a half hour passed like that, occupied only by the sound of rain on the windows, the burning wood crackling in the fireplace, and the occasional page turning, until a familiar 'buzz' filled Wes' ears, making him glance up and look around. Moments later, he heard the front door thrown open like it had been kicked in, and—
"Mila's back, baby!" the huntress' voice called from the front, followed closely by the door slamming shut behind her. Wes hadn't even closed the book before Mila had rushed into the living room and slid to a halt, garbed in her green Battle armor and nearly knocking a small table over when the sheath of her Devil Slicer longsword 'Raiden' clipped one of the legs. Her eyes immediately darted towards him, and a broad grin split her lips. She then dramatically swept her arm through the air to hold out her hand towards him. "And there's the best dad in the history of dads! Come on over here so I can hug ya!"
"Looks like someone's in a good mood," Wes smirked as he pushed himself up and walked over to her, grunting lightly when she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace that thoroughly soaked his shirt from all the rainwater she was still drenched in.
"I'm always in a good mood! Especially when you're around!" Mila laughed cheerfully, letting go of her embrace and standing up tall with an excited gleam i her eyes. "But you shoulda seen me out there! We really gave that Malfestio a walloping before we captured it! Lowell and I did this really cool team trick too, where I jumped off his shield and—"
"Little Bird, maybe you could change into something dry before getting into this story? I did just clean the floors."
"Muh? Oh! You did! Dang, they look great! Sorry, just gimme like thirty seconds!"
She bolted up the stairs and out of sight in no time flat, earning an amused chuckle from her father as the accompanying rush of wind lifted some papers and even stoked the fire a little. It was hard to believe even now that Mila was the same girl who had once been so sickly that she couldn't even leave the house on her own most days. Back then she had been so small and fragile… not to mention ill. Paying for all the medicine she needed had taken up the bulk of his earnings as a hunter, and following the Venetorian market crash and the annexation, earning a living became significantly more difficult. Thankfully due to Sabrina's art career helping out their earnings the Adlers had managed all the way up until Mila's Aura Sense manifested.
Her 'Ward' ability really came in handy, apparently being able to keep her protected from most of the viruses that had been making her sick… but she'd also developed her 'Awareness' then too, which brought a whole new host of problems. The amount of information she had to process completely overwhelmed her, making it horribly taxing to do much of anything for a while. Worst of all, she could hardly sleep due to feeling every movement within the ability's range, which took a toll on her health nearly as bad as years of constant sickness had. The only times she'd fallen asleep that wasn't due to complete fatigue was when he sang her a lullaby he'd written in an effort to comfort her. Despite all the hardship, looking back on those days filled him with such a sense of nostalgia and pride…
Mila descended the staircase in her casual attire with a wide smirk, once again reminding Wes that all the hardship had made his Little Bird grow into a strong, beautiful young woman who was more than capable of handling herself now. That she'd come so far made him the happiest he could ever be, and quite sad at the same time.
"So, I noticed Corvus is home early," she said as she stepped onto the landing. "He doing alright?"
"He said Viper let him off early today, but that's about all I got out of him. You know how he is."
Mila made a pouty face while he shrugged with a disheartened sigh. She planted a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly, then giggled and shot him a reassuring smile.
"How about I talk with him again? He's a tough egg to crack, sure, but he listens to me."
"Maybe… but still, it's not like he doesn't have good reason. Really, I get it. He's still hurting. We both are. I'd rather him come around when he's most comfortable doing so, instead of forcing the wedge in further by accident."
"Hmm… well, alright, if you say so. But enough about that dreary sad time stuff! I've gotta tell you all about that Malfestio hunt!"
"Hah, alright, I've got some time before I have to get to the Perch. Didn't bring the others along to help tell it though, huh?"
"Nah, Falia's getting her quest book sorted and Lowell wanted to pay old Stonewall a visit while he's in town," Mila explained as she stepped past him and plopped down onto the couch and kicked her feet up. "Oh, speaking of, did I ever tell you that Geralt actually trained Lowell personally?!"
"You don't say? Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Wes replied, sitting back down in his chair opposite his daughter. Stonewall Geralt was one of the two local G Rank hunters in Ran Fos who, after the complete annihilation of his hometown, had made it his goal to spread the way of the Tanzian lance across the country. Some say that the only reason he chose to stay in the rainy city was because the Tanzian Grillmaster's top protégé had set up shop here. "It's still weird to think how few G-class hunters there are these days. They were practically a dime a dozen when I was still hunting."
"Yeah, and I'll bet most of 'em were a buncha pansies compared to the high rank hunters of today," Mila stated with a smug grin, to which Wes only rolled his eyes.
"I'll admit, looking back at it the old system was unbalanced. Monsters were called G-level threats that really weren't deserving of the moniker, so hunters got the titles they didn't deserve either. Then when the Guild began to learn what real threats looked like… well, it's good that they changed things. Otherwise there'd be a lot more kids running around armed with false bravado getting themselves killed. BUT, don't you go getting a swollen head just because your regulations are harsher than mine were. I come from a simpler time, not an easier time."
"Heheh, I know, I know! I'm only as great as I am because of you, so howzabout we just say all the cool stuff I do reflects on how awesome you are? Like the sick shield jump kick Lowell and I did earlier! Ohh, and guess what? I managed to stick a quadruple somersault! Falia gave me a nine outta ten on the landing… but I know she really thought it was a ten."
"Uh huh… and how exactly did that help you on the hunt?"
"Oh, it didn't at all. It was completely unnecessary, but man was it cool! Oh oh, but that reminds me of the hunt Iggy and Maki helped out with! So we were going after this Duramboros, and I kid you not it was like a bajillion feet tall, but that didn't stop Maki from…"
Wes simply smiled and chuckled as Mila's tales quickly began to jump around from one hunt to another, some of which he'd heard before, others that were entirely new. Each one was spoken with the same boundless excitement and bright-eyed wonder as the very first one she'd ever told five years ago, and they never ceased to entertain. Still, though, the stories whittled the time away far faster than either had really anticipated, and soon the clock over the fireplace was ringing that it was a quarter till eight.
"Aw man, and I was just getting to the good part too!" Mila pouted, folding her arms and sighing as he stood up. She smiled a second later though. "Guess I'll just have to finish telling you when you get back!"
"Maybe then you can actually get around to telling me about that Malfestio," Wes smirked, earning a slightly-embarrassed laugh from his daughter when she realized just how far off the original topic she had strayed. He made his way towards the front hall to pull on his boots and coat, glancing over his shoulder as he heard her stand up as well. "It'll be a late night for me though, so don't stay up too late on my account."
"I'll try not to! Course, I do have to polish my swords, clean my armor, color coordinate my item box, start on that language book… ooh, and read through that big ol' pile of letters too. Sooo much fan mail. I'll bet there's like… at least half a dozen marriage proposals."
"Well, just don't go running off to marry anyone without at least letting me know first."
"Considering you're the best role model I have to go off of for that… no promises," she teased, playfully sticking her tongue out at him. Mila then pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before shooing him out the door. "Now get on going, Daddy-o! Won't do ya any good to be late! Cook up a storm!"
"I'll bring back some leftovers," Wes replied with a short laugh, giving her a short wave before heading down the street towards the tavern. He couldn't help but smile—how he was lucky enough to have such great kids, he'd never know.
Corvus,
How are things? Been a while since we talked! Probably because I've been scrambling across western Maglea faster than a Valstrax hopped up on exciteshrooms, but you know how it is with my research! I've gotten all the stuff I need for my next few experiments, so I'm finally back in Ran Fos. Come on by my workshop and visit sometime! I've got the camera you loaned me here still, and I did take plenty of pictures while I was running around. Who knows, maybe you can use a couple for your drawings! Oh, and I've also started working on a little something for Jeopardy if you're willing to give it a shot! In any case, you know where to find me.
Isaac
The surveyor sighed as he dropped the letter down on top of the scratched-out sketch he'd been working on. His hand just wasn't guiding his pencil right today it seemed… he'd had to scrap no less than four attempts already, putting two hours down the drain. He could visualize what he wanted to draw, yet putting it onto paper the way he wanted was far more of a struggle than he'd been anticipating.
"Gotta practice realism more… been drawing too many cartoons lately," he muttered, resting his chin on his hand while tapping the fingers of his free hand on the page. Maybe he was out of practice… but he also couldn't get this voucher mess out of his head. Viper's words still lingered in his mind, to 'reevaluate why he became a surveyor'. Corvus knew why he did—to help people and live up to his family name. What was wrong with that?
Whatever the answer to that was, it was eluding him. The further it eluded him, the more frustrated he became. And the more frustrated he became… well, Mila always put it aptly in their sparring sessions; he got sloppy. That in mind, he once again took a deep breath and attempted to clear his thoughts, to focus on what Viper said. That he was forgetting his station, making the case something larger than it was…
"Wait, bigger than it is…" the surveyor mused, furrowing his brow. After a moment though, he sighed in frustration, letting his head thump on the desk in front of him. Clearing his mind was not a simple matter. He felt like that phrase was important, but how? After a few more moments, the surveyor let out a groan of defeat, abruptly stood up, and left his room, making his way over to the slightly-ajar door of his sister before sharply knocking on the frame. "Hey, sis! Mind if I come in? Gotta bounce a couple thoughts off of you, and I'd prefer to know that you aren't naked first."
"Door's open, so clothes are on!"
At her reply Corvus pushed into the huntress' room, raising his eyebrow when his gaze landed on her lying in bed reading a rather thick and dusty old book, which was rather strange. Most of the books she read were barely even half that size, and none ever looked like tomes.
"Uh… whatcha got there?"
"I'm trying to learn the Ancient Civilization's language," she explained, holding the book up for him to see the faded cover better, and after a moment he discerned that the title read 'Learning Language 101: Ancient Civilization for Dummies'.
"Uh huh… and why the sudden interest? Trying to impress Lowell?"
"Nah—well, okay, the stuff he mentioned was super cool and he's definitely got style, but that's not actually the reason. See, earlier Falia and I were talking about what we wanted to do when the next seasonal festival happens, and she said that apparently, there are people you can pay to look into your mind."
"Oh geez…" he muttered, though quietly enough that Mila seemed not to hear him, so she continued.
"And that freaked me the heck out! Like, sure, the ones at the festivals are all just paid entertainment, but then Falia told me about the unpaid ones! The kind that just looks because they can, not because they should! Those have to be the worst kind of people, cuz how do you even defend against mind reading? You can't! You have no way of doing it if they don't let you know, and they could be doing it anytime, anywhere!"
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"I was getting there! See, a mind reader can only understand my thoughts if they know the language I'm thinking in. So, my solution is to learn this language and only think in it. That way if they try to read my mind and they don't know An Civ, they won't be gettin' a thing outta my head! And who the heck WOULD know?! The language is as dead as the civilization! It's the perfect counter!"
"…Maybe just invest in a tinfoil hat."
"And cover up these gorgeous golden locks?! Nooooo thank you! Doin' the world a favor here!"
"Uh huh. Well, how about you do your brother a favor and help me figure something out."
"Need advice on how to ask out that red-head waitress gal? She has a thing for those Yukumese dumplings. Heard it straight from a friend of hers even."
"No, I… really? Huh. I know a place that sells really nice—wait, stop getting me off track! This is important!"
"Alright, then fire away," she insisted, closing the book while kicking her legs over the side of the bed to face towards him.
"Okay… so, I've been working with the other surveyors on that voucher case. We narrowed down our suspect list to the Governor's office, but beyond that we're stumped. Everyone has an alibi that checks out, and we've had unrestricted access to everybody's records. Nobody has been hired or let go within the last year. Long story short, someone in that building was taking the seal press, and whoever was doing it is probably still there, but none of the evidence is pointing towards anyone on the suspect list."
"Hmm… sounds like a pain in the butt. What if it's not someone working in the building though?"
"The others are looking into that, but I have a feeling it's someone on the inside. How else could they make thousands of these vouchers using a single press if they couldn't swipe the press and put it back into place without anyone realizing?"
"I dunno, maybe they have ninja training or something. And trust me, the stuff ninjas can do is just bonkers. Especially the ninja Palicos! I'd have hired one of those adorable little butt-kickers years ago if you and Dad weren't allergic. But how many of those vouchers did you say there were? Thousands?"
"Yes, about ten-thousand total, probably more. Way too many for this to have been a short-term thing. They'd have to have been at it for months beforehand."
"That's a lot of time… and a ton of wax," Mila pondered, frowning and rubbing her chin in thought. "Like, a thousand of those little seals could probably be enough to make a statue out of, yeah? I wonder if I could get a sculpture of myself made… but what pose would I want it to be in? Something super cute obviously, but it'd have to be totally rad at the same time, like—"
"Mila, please focus. You can think about wax another… time…" Corvus paused contemplatively, glancing off to the side with a perplexed look. "Actually, that is a lot of wax… Too much wax. Way too much."
"Muh? I don't get it."
"We asked around at Fischer and Co. to trace any big orders that could have been used to make the vouchers, but… all the logs checked out. No other companies or individuals have gotten orders big enough to meet that demand, or even enough small orders to come close. We didn't have an afternoon to waste counting through all the boxes, and they're a Guild-supported company, so I didn't think much of it at the time… but all the wax had to have come from them. They handle everything of that sort in this part of the country."
"So… maybe one guy's just been saving up a bunch of wax for a long time? Or he had a bunch of friends order wax too so they could all cash in on a successful heist?"
"Or the wax company is in on it," Corvus stated confidently. "They're in tight with the Guild after all, and considering theirs isn't always the most lucrative of businesses, there's always room to make more money on the side… so what better way than to scam a bunch of hunters and sweep up the spare change?"
"That's… okay yeah, I'll be real with you, that theory sucks, li'l bro. You got anything more to back it up?"
"…No," he sighed, letting his shoulders sag. "The only way I could back that up is if I had a suspect I could link back to the company, and not a single man or woman in that gate's records has any ties to Fischer and Co."
"Aw, don't get so down, bro! Let's just run with this idea for a sec. So, no one on record has ties, you say? Well, what if… they don't have a record!"
"But that can't be the case for any employees! Everyone has records except for like... interns, I guess, but Kilroy's office doesn't have any interns," he frowned, eyes trailing up towards the book next to Mila's leg while his mind wandered from topic to topic, mulling over anything and everything just to try and draw SOME sort of conclusion. Wax statues, Yukumese dumplings, employee records, ninja Palicos, unpaid mind readers, a case he was treating too big-
"Wait. Too big. I'm thinking too big. That's what the captain told me, but... what if he meant I needed to aim smaller? Aim for something smaller... without a record... that's unpaid... that would potentially give me a list of false names to.. throw me off his..." His voice trailed off again, only for his eyes to fully snap open in realization, and he turned hard to leave the room.
"Oh, that FUCKING cat!"
"Language!" Mila called after him, though his thoughts were already back on the case. He swiftly gathered up his sword and gun, then hurried down the stairs and began to pull his boots on, barely glancing up as Mila poked her head down the stairs to watch.
"And just where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"To solve this investigation," he replied while buckling the straps of his boots. "With any luck I won't be out long."
"Uh huh. Maybe I should come along, just to be safe. It's gettin' kinda late out there."
"No, Radiance would ruin any chance I have at tailing the suspect. You said it yourself—other races like Lynians have greater sensitivity to it."
"Eh… fair nuff. Try to be back before I decide to come and drag your butt back here myself though, capiche?"
"Hey, no worries; it's me!"
Author Notes: Please review! Sorry this chapter was a little late, but I hope it was just as enjoyable as ever!
I think my main inspiration behind writing this chapter was, ironically, the sensation of writer's block. Like there's something you want to tell, and you can picture it, but putting it down into words is just out of reach. Then once you get over it, bam, the ball gets rolling! That's sort of the inspiration for the chapter title too. Hopefully all of that gets across well enough.
Also, Wes finally makes another appearance! Honestly, I hadn't originally planned this scene to be from his perspective, instead focusing more on Corvus, but I still don't really like doing scene transitions without using a different character's point of view, and as much as I love writing her I would prefer to be more scarce with Mila in this book for... reasons.
I gotta say, I enjoy revisiting Wes' perspective a lot more than I did York's in TMC. Maybe it's just because I personally feel like Wes was a better-written character (which he absolutely was, 15-year-old Hawk had nothing on 17-21-year-old Hawk) but I just think I know him better as a character. And for the record, I'm not saying that because Wes is currently suffering from depression. Sad dad.
As for the gaming world, oh my GOD am I hyped for Iceborne! Nargacuga confirmed for World, an entire new area, a bunch of new monsters (so much so that it's being equated to an Ultimate release!)... I'll be honest, I've been sorta dropping off with my playtime in World lately, but this news made the future a lot brighter. I'm just hoping we get Barioth too... which is likely, considering it and Nargacuga share a skeleton. While that's still a ways off, I have Soul Calibur 6, Devil May Cry 5, and Smash Ultimate to keep me occupied. What do you all think of the new update that's coming, faithful readers? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Anywho, that's all from me for this chapter! Hope you all have a great holiday season! Till next time!
