Today I'm eating tacos because...well...eating tacos is what's hip and cool these days. You want to fit in the crowd? You eat more tacos.

WinkyGoMoo: Haha, thank you, thank you! I'm really not all that much, truthfully, just dishing out what needs to be done. I hope you do get to reviewing again eventually!

The Mocking J: It is rather thought-provoking, isn't it?

Sicomba: I hope you have fun with it!

Seventh Sunset: Seems like you need a back massage once you get to the hotel. I'd volunteer but of course, I don't mess around with clientele.

GrygrFlzr: Thanks!...Even though you've never played any of the games. You should get to doing so.

Larkwings: I think Don Paolo would hate him even more if anything.

Maict: To be fair, Randall knew Henry much longer than he knew Layton.

Haulau: Haha, thank you! I'm glad I made your day!

Please review if you get the chance! I love reading them, they help give me motivation and incentive to continue with the story, you know.

Spoilers?: It would depend how much of a context reader you are. But I'd say there's some pretty hefty stuff in this one.

Location: Scotland Yard, London.

Timeline: Some long and unruly time after Unwound Future.

Track Listened to While Writing: Peace from Layton Brothers: Mystery Room

Word Count: 616 words.


Tip NO. 053: Split

"A true gentleman makes it a pivotal priority to visit family every now and then."


"The thrill of the kill, that's what she had implied. To see someone's bloody corpse discarded in a pool of their own liquid remains, it's so...fascinating. Even now I can't help but think how it would feel to end a life in a way like that-"

The door opens.

"Alfendi."

The stern voice snaps the lone man out of his odd trance, an infrequent quirk about him that never seems to go away.

Of course, Hershel had been around the block more than enough times to know that it was impossible to teach an old dog new tricks, and it was even more hard to make him forget his old ones.

Reverting back into a stable state, Alfendi turns around to see Hershel at his door, "Oh, father. I...didn't think you'd be coming today."

The professor enters the room and takes in the barely unchanged surroundings from his previous visit, "I wasn't to be honest, But then the commissioner gave me a call and informed me on your current developments. I have to say, I'm quite...impressed, with what you've accomplished thus far. To say the least."

The younger Layton scratches his head, "Well, you know, it's nothing too big, but thank you regardless. That means quite a lot."

"Mm, I'm sure."

The years have been quite well to Hershel, despite now being somewhere in his fifties, he still retains a stable build and a well "chiseled" face. Working out wasn't a particular past time that Hershel was interested in, so he just assumed it was luck of some sort.

"Ahem...What did the commissioner talk to you about?"

Hershel diverts his eyes from a rather timely family photo taken way back when, back to his son. He had long noticed that he was rather twitchy, "He said you had gotten a lady assistant, I came over with the intention of making my introductions, since I had a feeling you weren't going to."

Alfendi breathes a sigh of relief, "Oh, my apologies, but it's her off-day."

While Hershel is looking outside the room's window, he's still paying his most sincere attention.

Moments of silence pass until the younger Layton shatters it with a simple question.

"Is that all?"

"No."

Hershel turns around, "How is your brother?"

Alfendi tenses up, truth be told, the only person he's practically unable to have a coherent discussion with is his own father, at least when the topic is not lighthearted.

The stern, but well-meaning and all-knowing voice was almost haunting to him. Hershel is the only person able to instill such a feeling into him.

"He's...he's well. He's doing fine."

"Are you sure? Do you have him under control?"

"Yes, he hasn't been causing trouble lately, if that's what you mean."

More silence follows, but it comes to a close when Layton heads to the door, "Then I suppose I'll be off. I'll be sure to come back soon when your assistant is in. I'm all but certain that I don't have to tell you how to behave."

"You don't." assures the investigator with more head-scratching.

His hand on the doorknob, he turns back to his son, "Be careful. I heard what you said earlier."

With that, he leaves, but in actuality, he only makes it past the first corridor before retrieving his wallet.

Opening it, he takes a moment to look at a small picture laid on top of his driver's license. With a frown, he remembers what the unstable comments he had heard prior to his visit, and what those comments would trigger if he wasn't careful.

He sighs, it seems guidance is the least of his problems.

"My dear...What do I do now?"