Hello :D

Thanks so much to those of you reading this despite the long wait!

And any questions you guys have, I hope is answered within the story. If not, I'm ready to answer however I can

Comments, questions, or anything is always welcome

I hope you all enjoy reading this story!

(1-2)

…

Meet and Greet

…

Lying Is Never the Right Way

…

Monday, 10:37 AM

The crime scene was the fourth this month. And it was just June 13.

Ground covered in crimson beneath the body of a young male, a blue bag covering the sight from anyone passing by, shattered glass from a bottle of beer scattered around within the taped area. "Carry on," one of the officers said to bystanders, curious eyes roaming the scene, a small group forming around the outside of the taped area.

Exhaling, the same thing was repeated, louder this time, the group of people quickly dissolving in return.

A few seconds of silence passed in the tense air. "What have we got?" He asked gravely, voice quiet.

"Looks like it's the same as last time. Whoever this killer is, it seems that they are targeting rich young adults, whether it be a female or male, and all the money in their wallets are missing. The last scene was similar to this one, except, well, the victim was female." Taking out a crumpled piece of paper from inside a notebook, the officer read the notes written from just a few days ago – on Saturday, to be exact. "Emily Cooper. Age 24, around the age of this victim. She had a bright future; graduated as one of the best in her medical classes in the university she went to."

Squinting at the words on the paper, keeping emotions out of his voice, the new officer then repeated what had been taken as notes. "There had been no witness to the murder, only the day after had she been found near a small shop since nobody had visited the shop on a Sunday, not when summertime just began."

This crime scene was, unlike the last one, some distance away from a bar and a building, a street light further away towards the road, the light turned off due to it being morning.

"…Any identification on this victim?" He asked, stance rigid.

"Yes." The new officer answered. "Thomas Stevenson, 23. University graduate. Engineering student. Forensics say he was stabbed to death – exactly how the last victim had been found."

"What about the one who called it in? Or any witnesses?" Asked the older officer who had been analysing the scene.

With his arms crossed, the new officer answered with tightness in his chest at the answer. "Well, uh, actually, nobody saw it happen, but…The bartender here said to have heard screaming – although the bar was too loud to confirm it was anything, and the call wasn't made until he had gone out to lock the doors of the bar. And, then, it had been too late."

"I assume there were cameras in the bar proving the alibi of the bartender as true." He said slowly, to which the new officer nodded confidently.

After thinking about the two homicides, connections and possibilities formed, he spoke his thoughts aloud. "The killer – for whatever reason, is selecting and doing the same things to the victims. Type of victim – intoxicated, successful, young adult. Victims stabbed to death…Nothing else?" At that, the new officer scanned the crime scene again, no response given.

"There was something else, something different about this victim." The words spoken by the older officer got both their attention, and they followed her behind the tape, walking over to where a team was taking away any evidence the incident had even happened, all photos of the crime taken by professional forensics.

Stopping near the outline of where the body had been minutes ago, she gestured at the spot around it.

"What do you see?" She asked them, to which both expressions turned confused.

A moment later, the new officer responded with a question with his own. "…Is this a trick question?" There was nothing there!

"There isn't anything there." He said, saying the obvious, trying to understand, not understanding, just like the new officer.

Giving them a nod, she explained. "Exactly; there is nothing there. See, last time, there was a trail of blood – however short a distance it might've been; there had been one. The killer should've had blood dripping from the knife they used that led somewhere, yet we can't see any patches of blood except for where the victim bled out."

"So," he began, putting his hands behind him, words spoken thoughtfully. "The killer is starting to get careful."

"Correct. And this only means that we should keep our eyes open, and be more careful than whoever it is responsible for the killings." The older officer spoke sternly, her voice leaving no room for debate.

She then furrowed her brows, and glanced at him, then the new officer, and said, "Also, on a serious note…Robert, Percival, I'd like the two of you to go undercover as civilians and look for any suspicious activity. Whether it be in a shop, supermarket, library – wherever it may be. Go undercover and do as anyone would in a normal day. Report back any info you come across. Check in each day."

"-This matter is to be kept confidential, though I trust the both of you to do what you believe is right…Be careful. Both of you." She finished by giving them a last hopeful, worried look, and hurriedly walked over to respond to the mourning family members with news of hope remaining alive in the hunt of whoever it was responsible, not questioning them, not when they were just getting out of shock.

He then shared a glance with the new officer, both of them realising the undeniable truth.

A killer was on the loose.

A killer they had to stop before another area was taped 'CRIME SCENE – DO NOT CROSS'.

…

Monday, 8:23 AM

Opening his eyes and staring at the alarm that was louder than he wanted, Merlin saw the time, and jumped up. "Shit – I mean, shoot – I'm gonna be late!"

It was his first day on the job, and he slept in! Seriously, what was he thinking, binge watching videos?!

Quickly changing, brushing his teeth, leaving his bed roughly cleaned up, he rushed out of the room, nearly stumbling over a stack of boxes once he opened the door – it opened inwards – so he had to take a moment to calm himself and not shout in confusion. "Um, Gaius? What are these boxes doing here?"

The doctor, who had been looking through one of the boxes, took out a book with a hum, and, glancing his way, spoke. "It's a few books that you need to look through. If you're going to become a physician's apprentice – I will need to test your knowledge. Add it to your calendar, if you will. It's on…Oh, I forgot. Let me check."

"Okay, sure, but I got to go – You can tell me about that later. Today's my first day working for the Pendragon company! Wish me luck!" He said quickly, not wanting to spend time that was valuable if he didn't need to. "And, thanks for the breakfast!" He added as he took the toast on the kitchen table, quickly downing the coffee in his cup – just a few gulps and, done!

Getting ready, check. Breakfast, check. Mentally ready, not check.

Oh well.

Worst that could happen – nah, he shouldn't do that. That sort of thought always somehow ended up…bad. Movies, books, tv series, all those things had a scene in which some character said something like that, and it made everything worse.

Today would be a good day! Hopefully.

Running out, toast half eaten, he checked his phone, and saw that, oh no, the time was already 8:29 which was not good for him, because he was supposed to arrive exactly in one minute.

Patting his pockets once he got to the Pendragon establishment, he found the card to enter the building, and, showing it to the guards at the door, he entered nervously.

Looking around the place he entered for the third time – the first time to bring the medicine as a physician's assistant in progress, the second time for the interview – Merlin found himself standing by the reception, waiting for the receptionist lady to inform that prick who was the son of a very wealthy man as well as the person he was going to be the assistant of – he stood, waiting for some sort of response, since maybe the guy would just tell him to be in some office in whatever floor.

He asked the receptionist, who only smiled and told him to wait a bit more. Man, this Arthur guy sure knows how to piss off people.

Yes, Merlin was a patient person – most of the time – but this was getting him frustrated.

"Excuse me, can I help you?"

Turning to the voice, he saw someone his age – probably – who was wearing a bright smile, with her hands holding some documents and her clothes appearing quite expensive. "Uh, I'm just, um, waiting – Hi, by the way, I'm Merlin." He stammered, bringing out a hand to shake.

She probably found something he said or did funny, because she grinned, almost like she was trying not to laugh, and shook his hand, her green eyes sparkling, wavy dark-brown hair put to her left shoulder, earrings she wore gleaming in the sunlight. "I'm Morgana. Good to meet you."

…

Yawning, Arthur rubbed at his eyes as he sat in his uncomfortable but pricey desk chair, still feeling half-asleep.

This assistant that had the nerve to first make a scene, and then for some reason save him in that party – no doubt taking the opportunity to get some money – seriously had the nerve to be late on the first day of the job.

Like, wow.

At least this gave him a great reason to get that guy fired.

All his other assistants were fired or quit within the first week, none ever making it to a full month, so this would be fun.

Let's see how long this dude will last, he thought with a bored expression, spinning the pen in his hand – his hands and fingers were just aching so much – boxing, writing, typing…All these things were exhausting as they all required a lot of effort on his part, and, well, it wasn't as though he got a break of some sort.

No, no, he was the son of the CEO, and that meant getting to work hard to prove himself, and to make sure he was ready, and so many other things that he could care less about.

What he did care about, however, was making his father proud.

So, he had to suck it up and do all this work.

It was tiring, but he did try his best in everything he did. Either put all your effort in something, or don't try. Black or white. No grey area to be seen. His father had said that grey areas were for the weak, and that a Pendragon could not have the mindset of someone weak, so, black or white. Yes or no. Do or don't do. Everything was that simple, nothing complicated.

This guy becoming an assistant that he never asked for because his father saw it appropriate to do so, for example. There was no room for him to question his father, that was a fact. Any time he ever did, he got reprimanded harshly, so it was an obvious fact that he had no chance of choosing much in his own life.

Seeing the flashing of the desk phone, he huffed, and took it, bringing it to his ear, greeting in a cheerful voice – with much more energy than he felt – and listened as the secretary said something about the guy who was supposed to be his assistant was in the reception.

"Tell him to wait." He said, and just put the phone back to its place, effectively hanging up on the receptionist.

Exhaling deeply, he put his feet down from his desk once he heard knocking at the door. "Enter."

"Hey. Just saw the guy from the party. He now your assistant after saving your life, huh?" Leon said, putting a bunch of most likely some financial papers on his own desk, along with one of the two cups of coffee.

The room had two desks, Arthur's desk being across from the door, Leon's desk being to the right after entering the room. "Yeah, the guy insisted about not accepting any money award – some cheap guy probably wanting to make money." He said with his head resting on his palm, taking the cup that he was handed with a small thanks, watching as Leon went and sat down and organized his desk. "You shouldn't judge him before meeting him."

"I'm not. I'm saying the obvious. What reason is there for accepting a high paying job other than to get some money?" His hypothetical question was met with a raised eyebrow, and then Leon opened his computer, typing furiously. "I don't know, but, more importantly, the boxing competition that's in two weeks has brought a lot of attention on you. And you need to focus on training."

"The guys from our team…" Tilting his head at the pause, he gestured at his friend to go on.

Swallowing, Leon continued. "Well, they think you've been a bit soft lately. In practice, what you mainly do is criticize them, and you don't exactly put all your strength in our practice rounds – I can tell, and so can they. The team doesn't believe you're taking this upcoming tournament seriously."

Arthur, knowing that Leon had sugar-coated whatever was being said about him, leaned back in his chair, and rolled his eyes. "So? I don't have a reason to care about what they say…If you mean I should get serious, then, sure, I'll get serious and show them what I can do." At his statement, Leon opened his mouth – to tell him that wasn't necessary, probably – but closed it at a notification sound that came from his computer, and focused back on his work.

Spinning in his chair a couple times, Arthur thought that maybe it was time he went down and told Merlin that being late on the first day was a very bad first impression. Maybe embarrass the guy a little. People tend to arrive at least half an hour early on their first day, after all. Being early is being on time, as some would say. And that applied a lot for this place.

Taking in the view of the city from where he sat – there was clear glass that allowed him to see the beauty of the city he lived in, the exquisite beauty very much something people would pay to see, the view of the bustling city from the 52nd floor rather dull after seeing it so much. The view no longer held that spark in it for Arthur, so he turned his chair back to face his desk, and took a sip of the coffee.

Clearing his throat, Leon glanced at him, speaking sternly. "I think you and I both know that there is no need for you to prove yourself to the team. Just try to practice on the times of your new schedule?"

"…Sure, I guess." He sighed, and stood and walked to the door, planning on testing the assistant's skills. "I'll see you later."

…

Morgana had gotten the information she wanted on all the individuals competing in the tournament that was in two weeks, and had planned on getting Arthur riled up with the data, but saw someone she hadn't seen before, so, curious, she walked up to him and started a conversation that turned into a surprisingly interesting talk about the most recent events – newly released movies that had huge twists that nobody saw coming, notorious shooter that was previously caught just a few weeks ago that this new guy had not heard about, and just about anything.

Checking the time, she saw it was already 8:41, and blinked at how fast time passed. "I need to get going but it was nice meeting you, Merlin."

"You too-"

"Would you look at that! Late on the first day!" Hands on his hips, Arthur grinned as he walked over. "Tardiness is looked down upon by everyone – don't you know?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, Merlin started to speak, but got completely ignored and interrupted by Arthur. "But I technically don't have to be here till 9'o c-"

The guy was such an ass. That, Merlin was certain of.

"Hello, Morgana. Didn't expect to see you here all alone. How are you doing?"

Such a dumbass.

"Excited to see you get knocked down in the competition. How about you, how are you, Arthur?"

"I'm not stressed about the competition since I know I'll win – here, let me take those." Grabbing the documents from her, Arthur handed them roughly at the new assistant he got, and, with a roll of his eyes, said the obvious at the perplexed expression. "Since I'm now your boss, I want you to carry these for her, and help her with whatever she needs."

His attention was diverted as Owain – one of the members in his team – nearly ran and stopped to catch his breath. "I've been looking for you – Practice is about to start in a few minutes."

Looking from him to the other two, Arthur gave him a nod. "Alright, let's go."

He hadn't checked the new schedule, and had assumed practice wouldn't be until at least twenty more minutes.

"Merlin, you do as I asked, and then clean up my office." There was no way Arthur could resist annoying this new assistant he got. He wondered how long it would take for the guy to quit out of irritation – or make a mistake so he'd be fired.

Arthur then put his arm over Owain's shoulders, the two walked and talked about random things, mind set on showing the guys what he could do in practice.

…

"Don't mind him; he likes to think he can do what he wants." Morgana said, taking her documents back with an apologetic look.

But he kind of can do as he wants…Merlin couldn't help thinking.

"He means well. Mostly." She said as she walked to the elevator, nearly laughing aloud at the disbelief Merlin showed at her words. "I mean, he does make nearly everyone he meets hate him or want to kill him, but at the end, I think of him as a lonely kitten."

Stifling a laugh, Merlin nodded, using all his power to keep a serious face.

"Anyway, so you're the newest assistant he got. Good luck." With that said, she entered the open elevator, and waved at the new guy with a smile.

Waving back, heart racing at the smile that was sent his way, Merlin found that Morgana was very, very pretty, and stared dreamily at the shut elevator door for a few moments, and then realizing he had an office to clean up.

But…Where was this office?

Inhaling, frustrated, he went back to the receptionist, and, frowning at the situation he was faced with, he took a deep breath, and got ready for the day he was going to have.

"Um, do you know where the office of Arthur Pendragon is…?"

With a smile, the receptionist answered. "It's on the fifty-second floor – the second door to the right."

"Okay, thank you." Wow – fifty-second floor?! Damn, that was a long way up.

Walking back in front of the elevator, he felt ready to really get started with his day. Pressing the button on the elevator, he waited.

…

One last punch, and his opponent fell on the padded ground, breathing heavily. "The uppercuts you tried doing were too obvious. Next time try being a bit more subtle – And what was that at the end? Trying to elbow an opponent – in boxing – seriously…Go and do a hundred push-ups."

Scowl on, the guy slowly stood, scoffing as he angrily took off his boxing gloves and left the ring.

Hey, this was the fourth guy to give him a dirty look and leave in anger – but he was being serious and really putting effort now! This was what they got for doing the wrong actions.

Fists too low – Radnor.

Too tense and not keeping eyes open when a punch came his way – Vidor.

Wrong movements done for a technique – Edric.

And now this guy – Brennis – did worse than the other three by actually trying to use his elbow, like, come on, that should be an obvious no-no in boxing. To make sure nobody did any fouls, Arthur gave them their penalties.

First time doing a foul? Warning with some work.

Second time? Have a talk.

Third time? Thrown out of the team immediately.

A boxing club had no time for cheaters, after all. Not any boxing club except for those few that were hated ever had people like that.

No using movements that were prohibited, no using drugs, no using weapons, and so on. Anyone doing so…Well, they were scorned by most of the public eye, though some found it entertaining, others cheering them on since it made into something exciting to watch.

And the audience loved the thrill of seeing something new, or unexpected. Or seeing people break rules and do things exciting.

The others, at least, hadn't done any terrible foul play, and Owain who, despite being a newbie with little experience, new about the rules and hadn't made such a mistake. And Alynor, who was getting his gloves on, at least looked like he wasn't going to do such simple mistakes – this guy had in fact made it until all twelve rounds were over against Arthur one time. Though, of course, he lost against Arthur at the end. Still, the guy did improve each time – just as every other person in his team.

Leaning against the ropes, getting himself relaxed and breathing slower, he thought about the anger he was met with.

He was fine with it, really. So long as the guys improved – and they did, just to prove to him they could – Arthur was cool with being the focus of anger. They were his teammates, people he sparred with. And they quickly cooled off, anyway, anger turning into determination to do better.

It was short, to be honest – the amount of time they were cross was maybe a few minutes.

"I'm so going to beat you in a match one day." Alynor smirked as he got in position in the ring, his bold statement getting Arthur to a ready stance with a grin. "We'll see about that."

…

2:00 PM

"Ugh." Merlin groaned, the only one in the room at the moment, finally done with cleaning up the office and he could finally relax – it was lunch time, yay.

The guy in the office – Leon, had eyed him a little suspiciously every now and then as he did what he could to make the arrangements in the office better…The guy had left an hour or two ago with some printed paper – there was a printer in the room, and so many other things it baffled Merlin.

It was odd, though – he assumed that there would be more to do, or like, maybe he'd have more tasks to do other than cleaning up some office that wasn't completely awful. Just lots of papers around, lots of misplaced binders, pencils and pens everywhere, and multiple pieces of rubbish or used stuff lying around – scribbles on some papers which he assumed was for checking if a pen worked or not, and even some paper airplanes and boats. Like, bruh.

Now sitting on the chair that probably belonged to the obnoxious guy that was seen as a prince by mainly everyone around, Merlin looked at the desk that was now across Leon's, this new desk that he had to bring, piece by piece from some storage room.

He had his own desk now. In the same room as the guy that he now worked for. Woo-hoo.

But Arthur wouldn't know anybody sat in this super pricey-looking chair.

So, Merlin sat a bit more, and then, when he got back some of his energy, he stood, stretched, and then, after being awed by the sight behind the glass, he left the room, planning on going to the coffee shop that he worked unwillingly.

And, although he was a little resentful towards the coffee shop, he still couldn't say no to getting something to drink – or some sort of snack to eat from this place.

It was, after all, tiring to hold grudges.

The bell hung on the door clanged once he opened it, and, glad to enter this time without having to do work, he relaxed and went to the line, thinking of what to order.

There was a menu, and, it looked like this place sold things other than coffee.

A coffee shop…What a misleading name, he thought to himself.

They sold toast, sandwiches, croissants, muffins, cupcakes, and many other drinks other than coffee.

Perhaps people bought coffee from here, and the place grew as a shop, and then it added more to the menu? He didn't judge.

Putting his hand on his chin, he thought seriously about what to buy, about how much money he had, and took a few steps forward every minute or so as the line shortened.

Merlin turned his attention to the line that was longer than he'd thought it to be – though it was probably long since it was the first day of the week, and it was working hours.

Right now, there was an old man wearing a baseball cap in front of him, and standing in front of that man was a businesswoman – she had the whole look of a businesswoman so she probably was – and she was tapping her foot – her heel only increasing the amount of tapping noise she made, and in front of her was a girl who appeared to be Merlin's age – the girl had her hands in her pockets, sighing and talking to someone on the phone in a frustrated manner, and then waiting for two teenagers to order was a guy in a hoodie wearing a backpack looking at his phone who also looked to be his age, the teenagers taking their time giggling as they took selfie after selfie.

Maybe he should buy a latte. Or a cappuccino. Or a sandwich. What was the difference between a latte and cappuccino again? Which was cheaper? He shouldn't spend a lot of money on snacks…But a latte sounded good. Though should he also get a sandwich? Or maybe toast? With cheese? Sandwich or toast? A toast or sandwich? Was there a difference though? Hm…

"Next."

Oh, it was his turn. Finally. "Um, can I…I'd like to have a, hm, a latte and cheese sandwich, please."

The cashier dude nodded, pressing the buttons on the cash-machine thing, and then the payment was done, and then he saw the person he met – Gwen – and he waved at her, and she waved back and went back to working, hands occupied with cups.

Everywhere in the city somehow seemed to be bustling and busy right now, everyone in a hurry or working in a rush.

After waiting for a minute or so, he got his order, and, thanked the person that remained expressionless – must be what the guy paid for working as a cashier and having his energy taken over by customers.

Holding his drink in one hand, the bag of cheese sandwich in the other, he found a stool to sit on – there were people on each side of the stool, yes, but every other seat in the place was full…And Merlin, while he disliked having to sit next to strangers, took the chance and sat there before it could be taken.

Huffing, he put his drink in his right hand down on the table-like counter that faced the window, and fumbled with the bag, getting his sandwich out.

He quickly finished eating it, and, knowing he had a whole half an hour to use as lunch break – eight minutes had already been used getting out of that building and crossing the street and waiting in line, so he had approximately twenty more minutes till he had to go back to work.

After he used some tissue to clean his hands, he scrolled down the screen and pressed the news app, and saw the most recent news that didn't look good at all – some mugging that happened just last night was connected to another mugging from a little while ago.

Eyes locked on the screen, he reached for his drink that had cooled off, but instead of grabbing it, he accidentally pushed it so it tipped over and fell to the side. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" He said in a rush at the guy that had been unlucky enough to sit next to someone as clumsy as Merlin.

He noticed from the backpack that this was the guy in the line, his hoodie now ruined. And worst of all, the guy had good looks and would no doubt be angry about his clothes and oh god no Merlin didn't want to cause a scene – it didn't matter that people probably weren't looking and didn't care or that there were a lot less people in the café, only one person in the line – it was an accident! "Sorry! I didn't mean to, really, it was an accident-"

"-It's alright." The guy said, completely surprising Merlin. "Accidents happen. It's not a big deal." The words were spoken with sincerity and Merlin could see honesty from a mile away. Wow. The guy was actually being really nice.

"I'm really sorry, I wasn't paying attention, and then the drink spilled, and now your clothing is all bad-" He rambled, taking tissue from the box that was attached to the counter and handing them over to the guy.

He wasn't going to just leave and the guilt he felt did not just poof away when the guy was being nice about it. "-It's fine, really. I have clothes that I was going to change to anyway."

Man, this guy was being too kind.

Taking the cup and throwing it away, he fidgeted with his hands, unsure of how to help. "Are you sure it's fine? I mean, I could pay to get it cleaned up, or something…"

"Don't worry about it," the guy said with such a sincere smile it made Merlin feel like a douchebag. Argh, he was sure that this situation he was in wasn't supposed to be so easy to deal with. "Though…Do you know where the washroom is? It's my first time here…" The guy said as he wiped at the stain on his hoodie, throwing the tissue in his hand away.

"Yes!" Merlin exclaimed. This, he could help with.

He learned where the washroom was from that time he worked here. "It's right there." He pointed across where they were. "Alright, thanks."

"Sorry again…" He apologized one more time as the guy made his way there, grabbing his backpack with him.

Exhaling and kicking himself mentally, he took some more tissue, cleaned up his mess, and threw all the tissues that got used. Even one time doing the cleaning up, he knew how hard it was for the person cleaning, so, he did his part and threw away his trash.

Taking his phone out, he continued reading the article about the mugging, and how the police was doing what they could.

There was another news that took his interest – some tournament was going to go down in two weeks – and people from across other cities would also join, it seemed. Damn, sounded like a big deal for people to come from so far away just for a tournament.

"Uh, hi?"

Looking up from the screen, he saw the same guy from before, wearing a T-shirt which showed that the guy was, in fact, very much strong and had muscles and all. So glad the guy was nice instead of beating me up or something. It was his lucky day, it seemed.

"Hi, I, heh, uh, bought you a new latte since that one was…Gone to waste. Here." The guy said with a friendly smile, putting a cup of latte in front of him.

Woah. This guy was a saint.

"Thank you so much – you really didn't have to – and, um, really sorry about before."

Sitting down, he spoke words that made Merlin think that, wow, this has to be one of the nicest people on the planet. "It's nothing – just yesterday, I scratched my car against the sidewalk – as I said, accidents happen."

"Oh yeah, I'm Merlin, by the way." He said with a smile. "Lancelot." The guy – Lancelot, brought his hand out to shake, and the two shook hands.

"I don't have a car – I can drive – but I'm guessing that costs a lot more than using the washing machine for clothes." Merlin said, still feeling bad, but trying to start a conversation with Lancelot – the friendly nice guy.

Nodding, Lancelot spoke as he put his backpack on. "Yeah, it does cost a lot, but, hey, both of these things are fixable, so it's not a big deal."

"True." Merlin then saw that he had around ten more minutes to spare. "Still, is there any way I can help you? I feel bad about getting your hoodie all dirty…"

"I mean, I'm new in town – I just arrived today – do you need to go somewhere soon? You checked the time, so I wouldn't want to take your time."

"No, no, I have, like, ten minutes until I have to go, and the place I work in is there, right across the street – you see that building?" He said, pointing at the tall building. "Wait, you work there?"

"Yeah, it's the-"

"-The Pendragon building, I know, it's so famous – how is it, working there?" Lancelot asked, interested and excited.

Huh. The building was that well-known…But it really wasn't such a cool place. "The building is really tall, the work place not that interesting, really."

"Oh. Well, I heard there was an incident a few days ago – a party gone wrong?"

"I was there at the party, and yep, there was someone using a gun. Thankfully it ended quickly."

"Um, I know you have to go, but, well, if it's not too much, do you know anything about Arthur Pendragon? I wanted to ask the guy something, but I'm not sure how to do it since I heard he always has guards around…" Lancelot said with a frown and a hopeful tone.

Merlin thought for a moment, and then answered thoughtfully. "I mean, I know he isn't like what I thought he was like; however, I'm guessing I could make it so you can talk with him."

"Really? How?"

"Well, I'm his assistant, though it's my first day on the job." Merlin grinned, though inside he felt his energy die from the mere statement.

Being the assistant of a prick was no easy job.

Eyes wide, Lancelot nodded in amazement. "Woah. You got some luck."

"Yeah, some luck I got." Merlin said, groaning internally at the bad luck he had that got him such a good yet bad job. "Really, though? You're sure I can talk with him?"

Checking the time, he saw he had less than five minutes left. Shoot.

Standing up, he gave an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I got to go. And, thanks for the latte. And yep, I'm sure I can work something out so you can talk to the guy. Um…" Thinking about it, he had no idea when and where Arthur and Lancelot would be able to meet.

Thinking up an idea, Merlin explained. "Actually, do you have anything to do right now? You could just talk to him now if you want…I mean, Arthur should be somewhere in the building, so…"

"Sure, that works for me."

…

"Dude."

"Arthur, do not 'dude' me." Leon stated calmly, waiting for some sort of comment other than that.

Holding the document in hand, Arthur skimmed through it, eyes wide. "Dude. Seriously. I wonder what goes through that mind of yours, Leon. Like, seriously, this was very much not necessary."

Arms crossed, watching as Arthur looked through the papers, Leon sighed at having to explain. "You thought that he might be looking for money. I thought it could be anything. So, checking made sense."

Looking up from the document on Merlin, confusion still there, Arthur handed the document back at his friend. "Yeah, no, I don't get how it makes sense."

"It was just in case. I wanted to make sure the guy was not, oh, I don't know, some guy who was actually a spy like that bodyguard you had…When was it, two months ago? Or that assistant you had around three months ago who was actually bribed – who went and managed to poison you? Remember how that went down? You were in the hospital for a whole week, or the last bodyguard from a month ago who was actually working for some other company and how he had set up your office to explode? I nearly died having a heart attack at having to pull you out of the room after hearing the ticking, and imagine what would've happened had we been in there a moment longer-"

"-Yeah, yeah, fine. I get it, you're looking out for me." Arthur said, interrupting the long explanation that made a lot of sense and would probably have no end. He still did not get it fully – he never understood half of what Leon did – but was glad that he had a friend like this. "So sweet of you." That got him an eye roll and a hint of a smile.

Thinking for a moment, he came up with a great idea. "How about…coffee? You like coffee, right? Let's go get some."

"Alright." Leon gave a nod, putting away the document, and quickly followed Arthur out the door.

The two went outside the building, the sun shining brightly as they walked and crossed once, and waited to cross the street again.

As they waited for the light to turn green half-way to their destination, Arthur's expression suddenly soured. "Oh, man."

Raising an eyebrow, concerned and confused, Leon questioned the reaction. "What? What is it?"

"That guy – Merlin is there – in the café – maybe we-"

"-Arthur, that is the closest coffee shop, and we are going there. I thought that was the plan." Leon said matter-of-factly, side-eyeing his friend.

Wanting to gouge his eyes out, Arthur, feeling exhausted, ran his hand through his hair as he stared at the lights that were yet to change. "…Right, I know. But I just remembered – there is…There is a coffee machine in the break room on the fourth floor. Let's go back."

A few moments of silence passed. Leon asked in uncertainty. "Are you sure…?"

"I said we're going, so yeah, of course. Anyway, you're slow." Arthur turned around and started walking back towards the building as the lights that way was green. "Wait for me!" Leon exclaimed as he hurried to catch up to the guy that tended to act quickly without much thought. "As I said, you're slow!"

"Arthur!" Ugh, great. It was that guy, Merlin.

Stopping at the sidewalk, Arthur turned around to see Merlin and some other guy, both holding their kneecaps – probably ran across the street when the light was green and close to turning red. "Arthur, this is…This…Just a minute…"

A few moments passed, Leon with his hands in his pockets, Arthur tapping his foot, bored.

"Hah. As I was saying," Merlin said, gesturing at the guy next to him, he continued. "This is Lancelot."

"It's nice to meet you…." The guy – Lancelot – said, bringing out a hand to shake.

"Excuse me, but, is there something we can help with?" Leon said in a stern tone, putting a hand out between his friend and the stranger they just met. "We're a little busy. Please make it quick."

Busy! HAH! Arthur had to use all his strength not to smile or laugh at that – a little busy they were, to get some coffee from a break room.

"Oh, right. Well," Lancelot began, glancing from the guy that didn't appear to like him very much to Arthur. "I was wondering if you were accepting any new members – for the boxing club that you have. I mean, I wanted to join, so…"

Nodding at that like he was actually considering this guy's request, he stared up and down, and saw that, huh, wow, this dude actually seemed to have what it takes to box. Though that would only be confirmed in the ring. "You know how to box?"

"Yes! At least, I know some…I'm not that great at it, but I know the basics of it."

"Okay, then." A yawn caused him to pause, his eyes starting to burn and water a little from lack of sleep, so, since he wanted this to be over, he just accepted. "I guess I got time. Let's go and I'll see for myself what you got. Oh yeah, call me Arthur. Nothing else."

Turning back to walk to the building, he then whispered at Leon. "Do I have anything important to do?"

"Not now, no. There is a meeting you're supposed to join at 5'o clock, and practice at 6, and Morgana wanted to talk to you today when you were in practice – she looked serious – so you should probably meet her sometime today – but other than that, no." Leon answered in a matching low voice, shaking his head with a smile at how Arthur didn't care to remember what he was to do for the day as well as because of how childish his friend could be at times like this whispering thing he did when there were people around.

Lancelot's smile widened at the fact that his request didn't get declined, and he couldn't help himself and got a hand out to high-five Merlin, the two smiling happily that things were working out, quietly high-fiving and then following the other two that were ahead, cars beeping and birds chirping as they all walked.

The two guards guarding the building stepped aside as Arthur told them to relax and that they – Lancelot, as well as Merlin – were with him.

Once they were inside, they went to the elevator, and waited for a few moments in silence.

Then they were heading to the negative second floor.

The first floor below ground level had the main practice room that Arthur and his boxing club teammates used. The second floor below the ground floor had less equipment, which was why Arthur used it for himself most of the time, or to practice with teammates one-on-one if they asked to. The third floor that was below ground level was Arthur's special place to practice whatever he wanted, lots of equipment there used just by him – and there were cars there too. The fourth and fifth floor below ground level were storage. The sixth and seventh were rarely used, just unused things packed there, like boxes full of old stuff, and just dozens of cars that were dusting from unuse. The eighth floor was banned because of an incident. The ninth was just about nonexistent. And the tenth was just there.

Once the door opened, Arthur stepped out, followed by Lancelot and Merlin, both of them awing at the sight, and then Leon stepped out, sighing.

Arthur turned to Lancelot with his arms wide open, showing the place. "Here we are, Lancelot. Grab some gloves. Show me what you can do. Don't waste my time."

"Right!" With that, Lancelot put his backpack on the ground, ran and grabbed gloves he saw that were lying alongside some headgear, got a pair of gloves on.

Putting on some gloves himself, Arthur couldn't help but ask. "You sure you don't need any headgear? I suggest you wear some."

"Only if you wear some." At that Arthur scoffed, thought about it for a few seconds, and just got into the ring after getting the gloves on.

Inhaling, and then exhaling, he then wanted to know if there was any need to go over the basics. "I'm assuming you know – Either knockout or…Hm, actually, let's make this knockout or knocked down since it'll be one round instead of twelve." Lancelot nodded, and went to the middle of the ring where Arthur was standing to bump gloves.

Leon, sighing again, was simply not expecting to be the one supervising something like this. Unbelievable.

The two got ready, and began their little match, Merlin watching curiously.

Not ten seconds passed and Leon was shocked and down on the bumpy but soft – thanks to the cushion-like protected ground.

Exhaling disappointedly, Arthur went to take his gloves off, but was stopped by a determined Lancelot who steadily rose up from where he was. "I'd…I'd like to go again."

"I have nothing else to do, so, sure." Arthur got ready, back to a ready stance.

This time, it was seventeen seconds before Leon was punched down.

"Well…You tried." Arthur said dryly, not covering the truth with anything, simply saying what was true aloud.

He walked over and offered a hand up, which Lancelot accepted with a scowl. "Can we go again?"

…

It was 3:11 already, and Leon had to resist the urge to just leave or look at his phone, standing near the ring and watching closely.

The two in the ring were breathing heavily, hearts racing, sweating and both doing their best.

Until now, Lancelot had been knocked out twice, and Arthur had demanded they wrap it up – which was stubbornly refused, to which Arthur insisted they close this whole thing if Lancelot was knocked out a third time, and that, Lancelot reluctantly accepted.

This guy Lancelot was actually so very persistent.

Arthur was willing to accept going again and again.

Round after round after round after round they went.

Merlin remained speechless at having watched the two go at it for such a long time.

"Do you guys need some water or…?" Leon tried again, not liking the situation.

There were bottles of water, there was packages of food and snacks, but neither of the two stopped for even a minute to catch their breaths.

Lancelot gave his answer with a slow shake of his head, taking quick breaths.

"Nah…We're good." Arthur said, panting and trying to slow his breathing.

He then slowly made his way near Lancelot, and threw a quick punch with his left hand, which Lancelot dodged by stepping to the right, and then he threw his own punch, which Arthur was nearly too late at blocking – though he did block, it was a close call, grazing his cheek.

He then threw a punch with his right hand right after, Lancelot blocking it, and then Lancelot side-stepped, and sent a strong and fast punch with his right hand.

Leon yelled and ran and entered the ring.

Arthur was knocked out.

…

"What is it with you – do you like scaring me or something?" Leon asked rhetorically as he held ice at his friend's head.

It had taken more than a minute to get Arthur to wake up – time that Leon spent glaring at Lancelot and screaming and yelling at Arthur to wake up after ten seconds passed – a normal knockout lasted around ten seconds, so, yeah. This was a bad knockout.

Especially because Arthur nearly looked like he would pass out or throw up when he had tried sitting up after waking up with bleary eyes. And he took a lot longer to just get up unsteadily.

Dizziness. Nausea. Exhaustion. You know what that adds up to? Nothing good!

"Seriously, why would you make this go on for so long? Either accept him to the team, or don't – I thought it would be that simple. Just tell the guy 'Hey, you're good, you're hired.' Or just tell him that he should leave. Why would you go round after round – beyond me– Damn, you're frying the wheels in my brain. And I thought we'd just get some coffee from the machine."

Now he was just talking nonsense. Great.

"Hey, you got a lot of bruises now. And you probably have a concussion. What am I supposed to tell your father? That, oh, your son just got beat by some random guy, and that I just watched-"

"You're doing that thing…again." Grabbing the icebag, Arthur slowly stood, taking a moment to steady himself, the room spinning for a few seconds.

Scrunching up his face, Leon didn't understand. "What thing?"

"That thing you do when you…You know."

"No, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do this rubbish talk whenever you think something bad happened."

"I don't think it - Something bad does happen."

"Whatever."

Gradually making his way to Lancelot – who was holding a pack of ice that Leon had handed him – Arthur was about to shake his head at the ringing in his ears, but thought twice about it, and heard clearly after the ringing passed that Merlin was complimenting Lancelot and was wording out his awe and shock at what had happened.

"Lancelot."

The guy looked at him, Merlin stopping talking at last. "I have to say. You have terrible yet excellent skill."

Merlin and Lancelot then shared a look of confusion, and after moments of silence, of no continuation, Lancelot questioned. "So, can I join your boxing club?"

Staring at nothing, lots of things crossed Arthur's mind.

He then forcibly relaxed himself, and turned around, slowly making his way to the elevator.

"Wait, what's your answer?" Lancelot asked as he stood up and followed him, not understanding.

Remaining silent – a headache forming – Arthur pressed the button of the elevator, and waited. "Hey, you ass. When a question is asked, you're supposed to answer it." Merlin said in annoyance.

All three looked at Merlin in disbelief – Leon concealing his expression more than the other two.

Entering the elevator, Arthur finally spoke, his back against the cold surface of the elevator. "Sure, Lancelot. You can join. But know this one thing; in this boxing club, we fight, but we do not lie. Any deception of any sort gets you thrown out. Is that clear?"

"I understand. And thank you…!"

"Don't thank me; practice here will kill you – mentally. And, yeah, phone number to text details of schedule. Also, here, your backpack."

…

"Man, thanks so much! I got in! I can't believe it! If it hadn't been for you, I probably wouldn't have been able to even ask, so thanks Merlin!" Lancelot said in joy, holding a box as he walked.

"It was because of your skills. And you were really, really good at it. Where'd you learn to box, anyway?" Merlin asked as he held a box himself, the two carrying the two boxes to the clinic that Gaius was in – Merlin's task was to bring these two boxes that were from the storage unit to the clinic as these supplies were nearly finished there.

Once again, he thought to himself, oh, these tasks are not what I expected to do as Arthur's assistant.

Though he had no idea what he had expected.

These jobs seemed too…easy.

Pushing open the exit doors, Lancelot spoke, nostalgia arriving. "My father taught me." Merlin waited for more explanation, but didn't push it.

"Hey, I also learned some fighting techniques from my father." Merlin stated with a smile, finding that in common between them.

True, fighting and boxing were…a bit different. But hey, they were sort of the same thing. Boxing was just a sub-category of fighting.

Everybody kept things from others after all.

Entering the clinic, he called for Gaius, who was probably somewhere in that library-lab like place that was supposed to be an office. "Wait, are we now friends, then?" Merlin asked Lancelot after putting the box on top of the other box. "Yep!" Lancelot said with a toothy smile, then frowned. "I smell."

"That happens when you box for so much time without really stopping." Merlin said, the two laughing.

"Also, choose an emoji."

"Why?"

"Because. I always put one emoji after the name of my contacts – see? Arthur chose the crown emoji. And Leon even gave me his number – though he said something about being the one to send the practice schedule if Arthur forgot to – here! He chose the emoji of a laptop. What are you going to choose?" Leon showed the two numbers on his phone and the emojis.

"Hm…This is difficult…" Merlin said, thinking and thinking about which to choose.

A spark of an idea. "Wait, wait. This one. Hot cup of tea or coffee or something."

"Okay, any reason?"

"We met like that – I spilled latte that cooled off on your hoodie."

"Oh yeah."

"Yeah."

Silence.

The two laughed and laughed.

…

Monday, 7:51 PM

The three – Robert, Percival, and their supervisor, met again.

There was tape, again.

Another kill.

Another victim.

Percival clenched his fists and spoke grimly. "Looks like the main connection between the victims is money. Lots of it…Third victim, Anna Turner. 19. Daughter of Mrs. Turner who is a large real estate owner and Mr. Turner who is a surgeon."

Robert looked away. "She's…so young."

Their supervisor made her way to where the body was, and cleared her throat. "We will find this killer. To do that, we need to focus."

Gulping down their sorrow and sadness at the sight, the two stood straight.

They were going to catch this killer.

…