A/N: Hello, hi, yes, I'm up here this time. Given how there's been an update and the numbers that I'm giving chapters have decreased instead of increased, you might've guessed that I've got some important things to share.

I. Have. Been. A. Busy. Bee. I know it's been a while, but I have spent pretty much the entire summer working on this story. Basically, long story short, I realized I needed this whole section of the plot to move a lot faster and I didn't like how slice-of-life-y this story was becoming, since that's not my aim here. So…I may or may not have rewritten everything from Chapter 1 and up.

Now before y'all start panicking, let me be very clear: THE REWRITE'S PLOT HAS NOT CHANGED. This thing ended up more like an aggressive tweaking than a full-blown rewrite. Chapter 9 ends exactly where the original Chapter 11 did—this chapter here is a completely new addition that picks up right where the original uploads left off. I did not add any sort of hints or clues to the rewrite that you wouldn't have known about in the original version—in fact the only new content is banter and character development to replace things that I had to remove. And the only new character development that's worth reporting atm is that Ayla no longer conveniently improves at speaking Inklish halfway through the story, and you'll see how that makes this chapter a bit of an experience XD.

What I did do was move things around, take some scenes out, and/or shorten them so the plot moves much faster than the "let's tiptoe across a football field" thing it was doing before. This makes going back and reading all the rewritten chapters entirely OPTIONAL. If you're caught up and you don't want to spend the time rereading older content, you can go ahead and read this chapter. But, if you'd stopped reading between Chapters 4-7 and you're just picking it up again now, then I'd recommend going back to Chapter 3 since that's where a lot of stuff started moving around. Chapters 8 and up are (roughly) the same as their original counterparts even though I'd initially planned a much more extensive rewrite.

If you do want to read the rewritten chapters, then please let me know if something feels abrupt/wonky/out of place. I try to do as much quality control as possible before uploading, but that quality control spreads a little thin when you have 10 chapters to revise XD. I wouldn't be surprised if I have to go back into a chapter and fix something up.

Ok announcement over, enjoy the chapter:

"GREETINGS, AYLA." The refugee's shellphone greeted. "YOU HAVE: 4,728 COINS IN YOUR ACCOUNT. WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?"

Habit forced her to glance up and scan her surroundings. The Salmon Runner ahead of Ayla had stepped away from Grizzco's ticket booth, walking past an Inkling with an E-liter and a female Octoling wearing a lab coat. The two were chatting and didn't seem like they were waiting for a turn at the booth, so Ayla moseyed over and placed a distracted hand on the counter, hazel eyes back on her shellphone.

The booth cackled a deep chuckle and a round ball bumped against Ayla's fingers. She absently scooped up the bonus capsule and stepped aside as her shellphone-bearing hand tapped "make a deposit." She cracked the capsule open with a flick of her thumb and glanced at the check inside.

…Holy carp, this one was worth four hundred coins.

Ayla broke into an excited grin as she snapped a picture of the slip with her banking app. She leaned a foot against Grizzco's closed steel gates and immediately tapped "send funds," not caring that the other Octoling had finished her conversation with the squid and walked off. Ayla's fingers quickly spelled out her brother's address; the twelve capsules she'd earned could pay for a week's supply of oxygen, at twice the rate of her 16-hour cafe shifts. Maybe getting constantly whacked to a pulp was actually a plus.

"Aw, sweetie." Ayla hadn't even sent the funds before the Inkling began cooing. "Since a pathetic little soul like you probably can't read, the sign says 'closed.' That's why the gates are shut…y'know, in case you couldn't understand that either."

Ayla's breath hitched, caught entirely off-guard by the comment. She opened her beak in an attempt to respond, but didn't know what to do in this situation, so the refugee was left with her jaw agape.

The Inkling's fangs bared in a vicious grin as she readjusted her designer shades—Ayla couldn't imagine what kind of fortune those had cost. "What's'a matter? Don't know how to talk? Well, I gotta say…" She paused to twirl a finger through her single side tentacle. "…That might be why only the lowest of the low want to hire you."

Ayla closed her beak, forcing her nervous brain to muster whatever grammar she could. "I speak."

The Inkling erupted into a girly cackle, making Ayla's cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Not well, sweetie, not well. See, it takes a city-born to keep ahead of all the latest trends—and if you're good enough, like me…" She flipped her side tentacle with the back of her hand. "…the freshest clothing labels'll pay you six figures to snipe amateurs with your besties!"

"…But you couldn't make the cut even if you knew what grammar was." The Turf War professional grabbed the custom E-Liter behind her and advanced a few steps, sneering at the refugee's faded clothing. "Maybe it's for the best—you're so out of your element that I don't know why you're even trying to fit into my city. I wouldn't be surprised if you spent that kind of salary on all the wrong things."

All Ayla did was hit send.

"'Your city?'" A familiar voice plopped onto the ground behind them. "You've grown even more pretentious in the past year, Alyssa."

Both cephalopods turned around to face their new company—and Ayla was surprised at her own relief to find Agent 4 storming towards them, chin tucked and brows furrowed like a territorial tigerfish.

"Oh, of course." The Inkling—Alyssa—threw her head back with a groan. "I was wondering where you've been. I should've known it was with the new weirdos—you're a perfect match."

Delta might not have replied, but not an ounce of ferocity had left her Moto Boots as they strode between Alyssa and her prior prey. The unfazed agent's shoulders were still squared, her gait still stern, and her eyes still held that dangerous fire. It made Ayla note that silence wasn't always synonymous with submission.

"Speaking of weirdos, how come I haven't seen Entrenched in the Nationals bracket this year?" Alyssa grabbed her E-Liter below the scope and stepped in front of her old rival, meeting Delta's glare. "Are you afraid you can't defend the title from us? Would you rather chicken out than show the world you're not as good as they thought you were?"

That insult hit its mark; Ayla could see it in the agent's eyes—their fire had clouded even though Delta managed to maintain the rest of her composure. Hands drew to her chin as forearms covered her vulnerable chest, and Agent 4 even glanced away for a moment. Blue irises fell on Ayla for a heartbeat before the indignation almost willed itself back and Delta's gaze returned to the offending squid.

"Afraid to face aim so terrible it needs all those bits and baubles to actually hit something?" She gestured at the E-Liter's custom scope with a shrug. "Nah, I don't think so. I've just moved onto more important things."

"That's…" Alyssa looked around for a few seconds, as if the surroundings could somehow explain the logic behind Delta's comment. "I've sniped you mid-Splashdown before. In what world is that bad aim?"

"It wasn't sniping the shades off a moving target while traveling, what, fifteen miles an hour?" Delta proudly crossed her arms and her eyes gleamed with a reminiscent awe. "Without fancy modifications, mind you. Or a scope. Or even taking the time to aim."

Ayla's hazel eyes lit up with recognition. A year wasn't nearly long enough to forget the hearts-stopping, soul-stabbing shock when Marie shattered the shackling shades off her own cousin with an effortless, casual snipe. The emotionally exhaustive showdown had been permanently ingrained into the minds of every witness—both Inkling and Octoling—and it also told Ayla that maybe she should admire the Squid Sisters from afar.

Alyssa's brain took several seconds to process Delta's words. "…You're bluffing. That's impossible."

Agent 4 slyly snuck a knowing glance at Ayla and the two cracked a snicker; it was half weird to watch the fearsome agent snicker and half nostalgic to finally have someone to share an inside joke with. Ayla had missed that.

Alyssa grabbed her E-Liter with an embarrassed harrumph. "Well whatever, I shouldn't be wasting my time with stale wash-ups anyway. The scientists at JAMSTEC—very important ones, mind you—need my help with their projects, so you can run along and play pretend while the real stars do the real work." The Inkling stomped off and Delta's eyes tracked every motion until Alyssa Super Jumped towards the harbor.

"JAMSTEC…" She muttered to herself before blue irises flicked back to Ayla. "That's the company Caroline mentioned, right?"

Ayla answered with a quiet nod, surprised. That was an innocuous detail to remember, let alone connect; it must've stood out to Delta for some reason.

"Huh…" The agent's eyes trailed off for another few seconds, before she rolled her shoulders with an antsy huff. "Well, anyway, uh…you got any downtime today?"

"'Downtime?'" Ayla cocked her head. She wasn't sure what that meant, and the Octoling didn't want to give the wrong answer and risk disembowelment via laser eyes—which sounded ridiculous, but at this point she wouldn't be surprised if Agent 4 was somehow capable of the ridiculous.

Delta wrung her hands and glanced around the empty alcove before her voice grew softer, maybe even a little timid. "…Can we talk somewhere else? Alone?"

…Ayla had been prepared for almost anything to come out of the agent's beak—but even then, vulnerability wasn't one of them. Agent 4? Uncertain? The Inkling truly was capable of the ridiculous.

But it helped the Octoling understand what Delta wanted, even though it hadn't defined "downtime." "Come. House is not far here."

So Ayla lead her former opponent to her home in the capital of her former enemies—which was a tad surreal once the refugee had thought about it. Delta had mentioned she'd wanted a chat, which meant she needed Ayla alive to chat, but the Octoling still felt antsy with the agent trailing behind her and out of sight. So the two walked side by side with at least an arm's length in between—even though Ayla personally would've preferred the distance of a few football fields.

The ex-scout was met with a mix of relief and unease when they made it to New Albacore Hotel. Delta had stopped for a bathroom break in the lobby, so Ayla waited in her extended-stay room while semi-nervously twiddling her thumbs.

"…Okay, you can do this." Ayla's trained ears detected Delta talking to herself in the hallway. "Just follow the orders for right now, a little info like this can't hurt—then blow the whistle if she wants to do anything with it. She deserves an answer at least, right? They both do."

It wasn't long before she knocked on the door. Ayla opened it for the militaristic Inkling, who replied with a respectful nod and walked in, pausing in the center of the room to scan the art-covered walls. The Octoling glanced at the work-in-progress on her desk and dashed over to hide it before the agent noticed—that would've been an awkward conversation otherwise.

"So," Delta apparently hadn't noticed, taking a deep breath and leaning on the foot of Ayla's bed. "I don't like wasting time so I'll cut to the chase." She pulled a small notepad from her custom F-3 and flipped to an open page. "Name?"

"…Ayla?" The Octoling's answer was very, very hesitant.

"MOS?" Delta grabbed a thick, aluminum-bodied pen and started scribbling.

Ayla hesitated again, unsure what those letters meant.

"Military Occupational Service." Agent 4 clarified once she'd glanced back at the refugee, then pursed her lips at the Octoling's still-blank stare. "What was your job in the army?"

"…Oh." Ayla's superiors had simply called it "duty" instead. "Uh, scout. But, um…am I in the trouble?" She'd recognized the questions Agent 4 was asking; it was a format typically reserved for prisoners of war rather than the civilian questioning Quinn and Gavin had used. Had Delta finally sniffed out the wire transfers to Ayla's brother? Did she show up to meter out punishment? Would the hospital halt her brother's life support if his friends couldn't finance things after she was gone?

"Ah-hah…no, you're not in trouble." Delta set her notepad on the mattress with an embarrassed chuckle, and relief washed over the worried Octoling. "I guess I should've skipped that stuff. Here's the real deal—it's come to our attention that Octavio isn't the only political power in Octarian society."

Ayla's relief quickly faded into bewilderment. Of course Lord Octavio wasn't the sole power in the Canyon's government—what did they expect its citizens to do without him? Explode?

"So who calls the shots when Octavio can't?" Delta's sheepish tone hadn't lasted long, now replaced with a firm gaze as the Inkling readjusted her pilot goggles.

Ayla blinked. "Shots? What are these shots?" She'd learned early on that the word could mean anything from something very dangerous to something very very humiliating.

Delta's steely blue eyes allowed a tiny nod. "Let's just say––for argument's sake––squidnapping a certain Inkling and stealing a certain Great Zapfish. Who gave that order?"

"A…" Ayla ran out of words very quickly—how the carp was she supposed to explain this in Inklish? She tried twirling her finger in a circle with her best guess at the word "council." "A table."

Delta stared back at her, dumbfounded. "A…table?" She pointed her pen at Ayla's desk. "That's your acting commander?"

"No no, uh…" Ayla's palm smacked her forehead with a sigh. "I don't know word."

Agent 4 dropped her arm with a now-understanding huff. "Okay, how about this: who ordered you around?"

"The Suction Cup off-i-cer, before…you…happened." Ayla absently waved a hand in the Inkling's direction—who replied with a slight smirk. "Then I re-spawned in front of Canyon leader, which was…scary."

"Who was that?" Delta twisted her weird pen open.

"Major Gen-er-al Jane." Ayla answered with an instinctive recoil; that name struck terror into the hearts of her Canyon soldiers.

Delta scribbled the name onto her notepad. She opened her beak to say something but closed it and awkwardly glanced away, and Ayla could almost watch her thoughts spin into overdrive. The ex-scout didn't know what to do in this scenario—or how to elaborate on her answer—so she just stood there with a dopey grin on her face as the two stared at each other with no idea what to do next.

"Okay, so…what does she do?" The steam had been pouring from the Inkling's ears for almost a minute before it finally produced a new question.

"She, uh…" Ayla paused, racking her brain for the Inklish version of the Octarian's job—this interrogation was going swimmingly, wasn't it—before giving up and going with her own experience. "She yells at you."

Delta blinked a few times, then snorted as she held back a laugh. "That sounds personal. Did you report to her directly?"

"…Maybe." Ayla tried to hide the surprised smile on her face—she'd never seen the insurmountable Agent 4 actually laugh before. "She yelling at me for letting you escape, but her friend said I, ah…" she paused to find the right word, "re-cog-nize the 'traitor' if I saw you again. She sent me to have looking for you."

Delta stayed quiet as she processed Ayla's words, then raised her pen to point at the Octoling. "Who's the 'she' that ordered you back out there: the major general or her friend?"

"The major gen-er-al." Ayla replied with an emphatic nod—the friend lacked a military uniform and therefore had no power over Canyon troops.

…And that was when Delta noticed the plush whale pillow.

The agent's eyes widened in shock and every inch of her body froze. Ayla could feel her core tighten into an internal groan—she thought she'd hidden all the stuffed animals before letting Agent 4 in. The Octoling sucked in a breath and braced herself for the inevitable teasing over the large plushie.

Both blue and hazel eyes stared at the stuffed animal, then at each other. Then they were back on the plushie and back on each other, and then back again, over and over until Ayla was ready to crawl into a corner and die from embarrassment. Finally, after several agonizingly long seconds, Delta slowly, cautiously, reached out and grabbed the stuffed whale, pulling it to her chest and wrapping her arms around the soft fuzz.

"…So, who does this general report to?" Agent 4 was back to her questions as if nothing had happened, although her voice betrayed a dash of newfound contentment.

"Oh, uh…" Ayla's mind was scrambling to handle the conversational whiplash; apparently Delta wasn't going to make fun of her…? "Lord Octavio."

"Wait." Delta froze mid-pat, baffled. "Major General Jane is Octavio's second-in-command? Why didn't you mention that sooner?"

Ayla's shoulders rose into an unsure shrug. "…You didn't ask?"

Delta's palm hit her forehead with a groan. "…Fair." The facepalm shifted into another whale pat as she stared into space for a moment.

A knock on the door sharpened Delta's eyes back into focus. She cast an inquisitive eye at her host, who replied with an unsure shrug. Ayla made her way to the door and pulled it open—

—And was face-to-face with a mohawk-wearing, male Octoling standing on her welcome mat.

"OH SQUIT!" Ayla's survival instincts slammed the door, ignoring the yelp from the other side and bracing herself against the wooden frame. Delta was up in an instant, diving for Ayla's Splattershot Jr before the whale plushie had even finished tumbling to the floor.

"Ow, ow ow ow!" The newcomer's jammed fingers squirmed behind Ayla's weight and the refugee heard Delta click her safety off. "Open up, Ayla! It's just me!"

The desperate-but-familiar voice made the Octoling pause and risk a peek through the finger-sized crack in the doorway. A second once-over revealed an Octarian Forge jacket instead of a grey hoodie, a mohawk that was pink instead of green, and visible red eyes that should've been a dead giveaway.

"…Gavin?" The ensuing wave of embarrassment reverted Ayla into Octolish as she reopened the door. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were—"

"No no, it's fine…" Agent 8 breathed through the pain with a deep inhale, but did a double-take at Delta's presence. "…Oh wow, I was almost annihilated."

Delta replied with a half-miffed, half-apologetic tsk as she clicked the safety back on and returned the Splattershot Jr where she found it.

Uncertain red eyes flicked back to Ayla, then to Delta, then back again. "I…didn't realize you had company." Gavin gestured at his fellow Octoling as he turned back to Agent 4—and Ayla couldn't help but notice the quickly-blossoming welt on his hand. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

Ayla opened her beak after a pause; she'd assumed that other NSS agents would've known about Delta's visit. "We were—"

"We were just chatting." Agent 4 quickly cut in as she snatched the plushie off the floor and plopped it back onto Ayla's bed. "What's up?"

Gavin's eyes narrowed slightly, but he was quick to shrug his suspicion away. "The cap'n wants to start tonight's mission in a few hours, so he sent me to fetch Ayla."

"Um…" The aforementioned Octoling raised a tentative and very out-of-the-loop hand—this was first time she'd heard of any sort of NSS mission tonight, let alone her own involvement. "Why?"

"I think it's because…" Gavin's words trailed off and he threw his hands into the air, exasperated. "I don't know, honestly. He said something like 'extra eyes are extra spies' but I have no clue what that means. You're gonna have to ask him."

"…All right." Delta rubbed at the bridge of her nose with a sigh. "Let's go." The group began to leave New Albacore Hotel, but not before Delta whispered one last question to Ayla:

"…Since when did you know how to swear?"

"Do you have any idea what we're doing?" Delta zipped up her blindingly yellow Hero Hoodie, listening to her voice reverberate against the earthen tunnels below Cuttlefish Cabin. Callie was still out from yesterday's migraine and Marie was busy with her radio show at this hour, so Cap'n Cuttlefish himself had to be commanding this mission.

"I know we're searching Yuri's place for evidence of TTX." Gavin shoved an arm through Marie's last-gen Hero Jacket. "And I know this is just asking to get shot at," Agent 4 stifled a jealous frown as he pulled the reflective safety vest off. "But other than that, no."

Delta glanced at Ayla quietly twiddling her thumbs on the bench behind them. The poor thing probably felt twice as out-of-place as she looked.

"The cap'n isn't as, how do I put this…formal with his briefings as Marie is." Agent 3 spoke up as he yanked a black-and-yellow shoe onto his foot. "Sometimes I wonder if he just comes up with this squit on the spot. He'll explain when he feels like it, if he feels like it—but either way he's got us covered."

"But you guys reported that this TTX is super lethal, right?" Delta understood that her predecessor was used to the way Cuttlefish did things, but she'd feel more comfortable with Marie's level of detail if something so dangerous was in play. "If Yuri's actually guilty then chances are he'll resist. How are we gonna protect ourselves from that?"

"Well," Cap'n Cuttlefish hobbled his way into the dressing room, furrowing an aged brow at the familiar black helmet in his hand. "I was talkin' wit the mini Shellendorf the other day, an' I wonder if these could do the trick."

"That's...some agent armor, isn't it?" Quinn scratched at an ear as he fumbled around for the other shoe. "Like what we used in the Valley?"

"Given how TTX needs to reach your body somehow in order to work," Gavin zipped up his jacket, "then covering your skin with hard, non-absorbent gear isn't a bad idea."

"Mm-hmm." Cap'n Cuttlefish gave a knowing nod, fangs gnawing at his toothpick as he set the helmet on the nearby bench. "Now listen up—I know the coppers like 'ta have the cephalopod around while they hunt for clues, but it ain't required. I wanted y'all 'ta do this now 'cuz Yuri's scheduled for a night shift tonight; so he shouldn't even be home, let alone chuck TTX at you."

Delta quietly nodded in agreement. The captain's more familiar elaboration was reassuring—which she had a gut feeling was the intent—and it helped deepen her respect for the aged sailor. Just like her coach, he also understood that removing a threat before a confrontation even transpired granted a 100% survival rate.

"But that ain't an excuse 'ta get lazy." Cap'n Cuttlefish raised a stern, wrinkled finger at his agents. "Who knows if he called out sick or something came up or if he's just playin' hooky. So I want all o' ya to walk in there as if Yuri's waitin' ta blast yer mantles off."

"And m'lady!" Cap'n Cuttlefish swept around to face the refugee behind him, tipping his hat like a gentleman. "Thanks fer agreein' to help; your recon skills will be mighty useful 'ere. So it's a good thing you've heard that heavenly melody, eh?"

Delta watched Ayla nod slowly and uncertainly, clearly not understanding where Cuttlefish was going with the topic.

"'Cept," the old squid looked away, rubbing his thumb and forefinger with a sly sigh. "I'm forgettin' its name…" His eyes zeroed back onto Ayla and he hushed his agents with a discreet finger. "An' how's the chorus go, again?"

"The…Cal-a-mari Ink-an-tation?" Ayla glanced back at the team before correctly reciting the lyrics. She must've been wondering why they hadn't jumped in.

"Tha's the one!" Cap'n Cuttlefish shook a finger at her with a big, wide grin. "I remember now; this ol' noggin ain't what it used 'ta be. Welcome to Inkopolis, young lady—an' don't worry, we'll keep ya outta harm's way tonight."

"As fer the rest o' ya," the wrinkled Inkling turned back to his agents and nudged his head at the weapon lockers. "I want a brella, a rifle, and a blaster fer this mission—so git suited up an' rendezvous at Bluefin Depot."

Yuri's apartment was on the fourth floor of the once-abandoned buildings near the hundred-year-old Bluefin Depot. The mine itself had been deemed unsafe for Turf Wars in the last two years, but the nearby neighborhood had been hastily refurbished to accommodate for the housing strain that the waves of refugees had brought. And the dilapidated history showed—Delta didn't have to look hard to spot the chipped paint on cracked walls, flickering lights, and even the hallway's rusted support beams held a noticeable sag. Agent 4 was astounded the place had ever managed to stand up to code.

"And you used to live here?" Agent 4 turned to the refugee on her right, who actually shook her head.

"I was there." Ayla pointed out the window on their left, and Delta watched a wrecking ball crash into a similar building, splashing faded old bricks onto the ground. "They said it was not-safe."

"…No squit." The Inkling muttered as she kept walking, rubbing a thumb over her Hero Shot's safety to ensure it was still on. She was suddenly much more concerned about any stray shots inside Yuri's apartment.

Gavin held up a fist and Delta obediently halted behind him. "Captain, we're in position."

"Good, good." Cuttlefish's gravelly voice crackled into Delta's earpiece. "Eight, I want you to take point and open your canopy the second you step in the doorway. Use it like a riot shield as you move through the place."

"Got it." Gavin pressed a shoulder against the wall and sidled next to the doorframe.

"Four, you poke yer rifle around him and give suppressin' fire if need be." The retired sailor continued. "Tha' should give Three enough time to slip from the rear and nail the guy with his blaster."

"Understood." Delta crept closer to Agent 8 as Quinn snuck around to the other side of the doorframe, his arm up and ready to knock.

"And m'lady," Delta could almost hear the captain tip his hat. "If you would be so kind to head downstairs and let us know if Yuri enters the lobby—that would be much appreciated."

"Yes." Ayla gave a quiet, eager nod and vanished down the hallway stairs.

"Okay squiddos." Cap'n Cuttlefish's tone had grown sternly solemn. "Remember 'ta check yer corners. Clear every room. Watch each other's backs. There's no telling what's on the other side o' that door, and I've lost too many soldiers to carelessness. Whenever you're ready, Three."

Delta obediently switched her safety off, ready to stick to Gavin like glue.

Quinn pounded on the door. "Police, open up!"

No response.

Agent 3 dutifully tried again. "Police, open up!"

Still nothing.

Quinn glanced through his visor at Gavin, who nodded. The Inkling reached into his pocket and pulled out the master key they'd requisitioned from the front desk. Delta began to drop into a crouch, ready to charge forward.

"On three." Agent 3 plugged the key into the doorknob and gave it a turn. "One..."

"Two..."

"Three!" Quinn shoved the door open and Gavin charged through, with Delta hot on his heels.

The door had opened to the left, revealing a narrow hallway on the right that Gavin wasted no time in storming down, brella already unfurled. But Agent 4's hearts stopped when she spotted a charger's barrel on the left; she spun her Hero Shot towards the partially concealed alcove—but there was nothing but an inert rack of chargers.

Delta doubled back down the hallway and kicked open the first door on the right—clear. She met Quinn in the hall as he left the opposite room: also clear. Agent 4 spotted Gavin scanning the living room at the end of the hall as she yanked the bathroom door open. Clear.

Delta joined Gavin in the living room as Agent 3 opened the door to Yuri's slim balcony, and it wasn't long before he walked back inside, shoulders much more relaxed.

"The place is clear, Cap'n." Quinn raised a hand to adjust his agent earphones. "No sign of Yuri."

"Alrighty." Delta could hear a relieved sigh over the radio. "Now let's simmer down an' take a look-see at what we got."

Yuri's apartment was as run-down as the rest of the building—no surprise there. But the Octoling hadn't even bothered to improve the parts that he could: like the grime creeping from the baseboards or the cracks that could've been covered with posters. It was almost as if Yuri hadn't cared about the apartment's appearance, or that he'd simply given up on it getting any better than this.

The small living room held a worn couch facing a secondhand TV. A lit, electric candle sat on the nearby windowsill that overlooked the ocean just past Yuri's balcony. Delta opened the bedroom door and was met with only two pieces of furniture: a wireframe bed hugging the far wall and a deep chest across from the door. The chest was easy to open and a glance inside revealed nothing but clothes; Yuri must've used it as his dresser. She knelt on the dirty carpet to peek under the bed—and found empty space.

"The bathroom's just a bathroom." Delta found Gavin's armored visor in the hallway as he closed the door next to her. "No signs of TTX nor a makeshift lab in there."

"Hey." Quinn stepped into the hall from the living room, then stood stock still. "Do you guys hear that?" Delta held her breath to listen more closely—and that was when she finally heard the faint, familiar voice coming from the door across from the bedroom.

"…Yeah." Agent 8 tersely answered, hands back on his Hero Brella. "But I checked that room earlier and no one was in there."

"I swear I've heard that voice before…" Quinn lifted a gloved finger to scratch his head but ended up tapping his helmet, "…I've heard it often, actually." Agent 4 expelled her nerves with a huff and opened the door…

"…and welcome back to Problem Solved: Studying with Marie!" A radio stared back at the agents from a desk at the end of the room. "I'm Marie, in case you haven't noticed, broadcasting live from producer SBS's radio station. Thanks for sticking with us during the break; we'll get through another half of a question before we procrasti—I mean, strategically break for another coffee run…"

"Are you serious?" Quinn slipped past Delta and into the room. "Yuri listens to Marie's radio show?"

"Huh." Cap'n Cuttlefish grumbled back to life over the agents' own radio. "I'm startin' ta like this skipper a bit more, now…"

"Is he trying to study for something?" Agent 4 glanced at the maroon fishing waders, black gas mask, and whaling harpoons with 5-inch blades in the corner. That kind of equipment was never available for standard Salmon Runs.

"It's…plausible. He's clearly trying to figure something out here." Gavin pointed at the map taped above the desk—the only wall art Delta had seen thus far—which sported a handful of red thumbtacks dotting the area around Inkopolis. "But we haven't found enough evidence to surmise what that might be."

Quinn halted his circles around the room with a sigh. "I'm still not seeing anything that could even remotely pass as TTX around here. But we might've stumbled onto something else entirely."

Delta turned her gaze to a wall pouch nestled underneath the map, spotting a folder poking out of it. She picked it up and opened to a brief page of notes:

"-Legacy-

39˚56'33" 137˚10'16"

40˚38'50" 138˚27'05""

"Take pics an' look some more, anyway." Cap'n Cuttlefish spoke with a yawn. "It's good 'ta be thorough with sumthin' like this. We'll spend a little more time here an' then call it."

Meanwhile, Ayla had positioned herself along the lobby's side wall, keeping the main and rear entrances in sight. The place was about as vacant as one would expect at 1 AM, so Ayla had been passing the time by listening to the agents over the radio. They had just given the all clear when a muffled ringtone rang from somewhere on her right.

The shellphone was silenced on the fourth ring. "…Hello?"

Ayla might've half-expected that word, but her breath still hitched. She glanced around the nearly empty lobby and found zero speaking souls.

"Oh, it's so nice to know that you have my personal number now."

Trained ears traced the sound back to one of the nearby rooms before it went quiet. The door was solid wood and no one was in the window, but Ayla's shoulders still began to relax. The voice might've been calm, confident, almost commanding, but it was distinctly feminine—so it couldn't have been Yuri. She could stand down for the moment.

The silence quickly grew and it was another few seconds before the voice spoke again, this time with an almost disappointed sigh. "The call didn't drop, unfortunately. I was just theorizing how to short-circuit my own hippocampus so I can forget you ever said that."

Ayla spared an intimidated blink; the voice was speaking Octolish and she still didn't know what "hippocampus" meant.

"Look, it's my day off. Can I get just one break from your thinly veiled digs at me?"

The ex-scout awkwardly scratched at an ear. She felt bad for involuntarily snooping on the conversation, but the Octoling would have to abandon her post in order to avoid it. An entire three months of screaming drill instructors had ensured that wasn't about to happen in a million years.

"Wait, I know that sound." The voice paused and Ayla could almost see the suspecting, narrowed eyes. "You're not in my lab again, are you?"

Lab? Ayla thought back to earlier that day—JAMSTEC was a science company, right? That would explain the weird "hippocampus" word…

"Oh you totally are. If you so much as touch my sister's flowers I swear I will—" The voice stopped herself and Ayla could hear a long, frustrated groan. "…You know what, go ahead. Play with the Vibrio plates. Take them right from the heat lamp, open them up, and poke the squishy agar. Who am I to interfere with natural selection?"

"Awright, squiddos." Ayla nearly jumped at Cap'n Cuttlefish's gravelly voice through her earpiece. "Let's not risk his return any more. Get yer picture-thingies an' let's git outta here—I'm sure the lady wants 'ta hit the rack."

Ayla was out of there before the caller could turn her vitriol on her.

A/N: Aaaand that's that—I talked a lot at the beginning of this chapter so I'll keep things short down here:

-Is it just me or has Alyssa's attitude gotten significantly worse over the past year? Some people are really sore losers…

-Quinn was the one who inadvertently taught Ayla how to swear in Inklish, back in what is now Chapter 8 XD

-Cuttlefish doesn't forget things. He just wanted to know if you knew. There's a virtual cookie for anybody who can guess what he was really doing during his exchange with Ayla…

-The NSS are not part of InkPD, but it would be a very bad idea to knock on the door while shouting "NSS OPEN UP," so I had them say "Police" instead XD

And just like the rewrite's chapters, let me know if anything felt confusing or abrupt here. Editing 10 chapters in a row is extremely tiring and I wouldn't be surprised if something escaped my notice during revisions. Thanks for understanding and for sticking with this story, and I'll see y'all in the next chapter!