Blanc looked up from her cup of tea.

"You're late," she said quietly. The brown-haired girl's facial expression didn't change as she looked at Jack and James, who were standing in the entrance hall of the basilicom. Behind them, a group of maids fussed over the oil and mud they had trailed in, and a butler began to make his way over to ask for their weapons. The two lads shifted slightly awkwardly, guns in hand. "You were supposed to be here at two o' clock."

"Yeah, sorry about that," James winced, scratching the back of his mop of hair, "We sort of got caught up fightin' some robots outside the city. Sorry, Lady Blanc." Jack nodded in agreement.

"We totally fucked those pieces of shit," he said flatly. "Point forty-four magnum beats laser cannons." Blanc's expression didn't change as she began to approach them. It only struck Jack then how adorable Lady Blanc was. She had to be only four foot something: She barely reached his stomach. Plus, she had a little hat on her head, and a small pair of shoes that adorned her tiny feet. He also noticed that she constantly looked bored.

"I do not understand why you didn't just land in the city," she responded calmly, looking up at them. Jack shifted the double-barrel in his hands towards James.

"He wanted to get some monster fightin' done before we got here," he explained, "And I wanted to test this double-barrel I loote-ah...acquired." There was a pause, with the butler patiently standing beside Jack.

"Sir," he began suddenly, causing Jack to jolt in surprise.

"Fuckin' hell, where'd you bloody come from...?" he trailed off as he shook his head, before straightening up. "Aye?"

"Basilicom rules require that non-basilicom staff hand over all weaponry to the security office in order to-"

"Prevent Columbine Part Two, Kalashnikov Boogaloo?" Jack interrupted casually, raising a brow. The butler nodded. "Don't worry. I pretty much had it bashed into my skull that I should never attack civilians."

"It's basilicom ruling, sir," the butler repeated. Jack sighed, and looked to the man.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, ensuring that the chambers of his weapons were empty (as best as he could, because there would always seem to be a round in the chamber regardless of the presence of a magazine), and began to hand them to the slightly shorter man in the suit. "These are the weapons I've got, but I can only give you so many before I'd be completely unable to defend myself from anyone." He span the Desert Eagle around his finger, before carefully holding it towards the butler's already filled arms. "Oh, and be careful, for some reason they always have rounds in them. Don't touch the triggers." The butler grunted, and balanced the large handgun on top of the large pile of weapons. Sticking his hands in his pockets as the suited man staggered away, Jack cast a glance towards James, who was standing and idly adjusting the scope of his rifle. "Why've you still got yours?"

"Because Lady Blanc trusts me not to murder people," he replied cheerfully. Jack shrugged.

"Fair do..." he muttered, looking to the small person in front of him. "So what now, Lady Blanc?" The girl blinked calmly.

"Mr. Hillman can go and visit my sisters," she gently replied, looking to James. Then she looked to Jack. "You will come with me." Jack nodded.

"Fine by me," he whistled, offering James a wave as he walked away. "Have fun."

"Alright then," James muttered, dropping his rifle into his left hand and carrying it by a part just in front of the magazine well as he made his way down a separate corridor. "These kids just fuckin' love me, when I can actually bloody find them..."

Jack didn't exactly have any reason to complain about following behind Lady Blanc, besides his sudden urge to sit her on his shoulders and carry her. She also didn't have a prideful strut like Lady Noire, or a gentle trot like Lady Vert: She practically shuffled down the corridor ahead of him, not really paying much interest in anything around her. Instead, she kept plodding along gently until she reached a large door to her right and stopped. She then stood there for a moment, and looked up at Jack with her slightly sad expression not changed from when he first walked in. "Please open this," she ordered calmly. Jack stared at her blankly.

"Why? Do you not have a key?" he asked.

"I lack the physical strength at this time; My Share energy has recently decreased significantly and gone to Leanbox, so I find myself too weak to open this door." Jack nodded.

'Gone to Leanbox suddenly? Oh...uh, shit.'

"You can probably get it back," he smiled reassuringly, before moving his shoulder in front of the large door, tensing his arm, and giving it a quick bash with his shoulder, sending it swinging open. "You seem nice enough, I can't see any reason why people would stop believing in you." Blanc paused for a brief moment, and shuffled through the doorway as Jack held the door open.

"Neither can I." Blanc continued to pootle along down a surprisingly long room with what appeared to be a computer desk on an altar as Jack watched her go, releasing the door to close it. "I would consider myself to be one of the most caring out of all the four nations' leaders. I cannot see a reason why my Shares would lower in Leanbox." Jack kept his best poker face on as he followed behind.

"Have you tried going out and doing some monster clearin' jobs for the public?" he asked.

"Yes."

"In HDD?"

"Not always. It is not always necessary."

"Well...hmm. Have you considered propaganda?" By then, the two had reached the computer desk. Blanc moved carefully up the steps, whilst Jack went up half of them at once due to their small size. Blanc shook her head as she sat in the white-leather office chair at the desk.

"I do not wish to look to be a dictator," she replied calmly. "As of right now, my best hope is to reach out to the public with literature." Jack stood there, looking confused for a moment.

"So, you don't want to look like a dictator...but you're going to publish your autobiography that tells everyone your views on society?" Jack looked up in thought for a moment. "Huh, wonder where I've heard of that happenin' before."

"I intend to write a story."

"A story?"

"Similar to this one, yes." Jack was about to respond, when he suddenly paused.

"Wait, this is a sto-?"

"If I were to write a successful work of fiction, I believe it might help the people of Lowee to better understand their goddess, allowing them to acknowledge that I, too, have a vivid imagination and a capability to write."

"So, why am I here?"

"I wish to ask you questions about literature from your world."

"And you couldn't have asked James? He brought a book with him."

"I found his book to be of a disturbing nature and I refuse to ask him why he owns such a work in hardback, signed by the author." Jack paused again.

"...his copy of Mein Kampf is signed by Adolf Hitler?" he groaned. "Fuckin' hell, that'd get him hung back at home..." Regardless of Jack's muttering, Blanc opened up a notepad on her desk and retrieved a pen.

"My first question is regarding the popularity of genres of books on your planet. Please list the three most popular genres."

"Porn for middle-aged women, religious shite, and terrible books about games regardin' fancy chairs." Blanc took a moment to note this revelation down.

"Mi-ddle-aged wo-men..." she whispered, before looking back up. "What tends to be a recurring theme in these genres?" Jack shrugged.

"People that do things nobody in their right mind should care about?" he mused. "I don't know, I never read books like that unless I was forced to."

"I am glad you do not read pornographic material designed for bored housewives." Blanc noted Jack's response down, and looked up at him again. "My third question regards the manner with which you and Mr. Hillman speak. Is it socially acceptable to use obscene language on a daily basis on your world?"

"Not at all," Jack grinned, stretching his leg slightly. "Swearin's frowned upon, black humour gets you yelled at in the papers, and bein' a proper English gentleman like me is also frowned upon. Hence, I like displayin' how much of a proper English gentleman I am by swearin' at people and makin' jokes that get most people to laugh whilst feelin' guilty."

"And your behaviour?"

"My behaviour?"

"You seem to trivialize violence."

"I trivialize my actions because of the fact I couldn't do them back home," he retorted. "Where I come from, you know what there was? No monsters, no Shares, no goddesses, and a strict set of rules on society. You couldn't own handguns in the UK unless you were in the police. You couldn't own guns until you were eighteen. You couldn't own anythin' to look after yourself until you were eighteen, and lookin' after yourself was seen as a criminal offence because the bloke who tried breakin' into your house can file for assault if you hit them.

"The people in charge had no soddin' clue what they were doin' with the country and just squabbled over petty little struggles from the top of their fuckin' ivory towers, leavin' everyone at the bottom to struggle with a useless police force, a once great army that kept on gettin' budget cuts to fund a welfare state that was gettin' abused by lazy cunts, and so many more day-to-day issues that we put up with all the time. Me applyin' for this venture was me gettin' away from all that, havin' the rights to carry whatever weapons I wanted, go somewhere I never would have gone otherwise, and abandon the sinkin' ship of Britannia as it pulled itself to fuckin' pieces." He looked down at Blanc.

"Every single shot I fire, insult I make, and kill I get, is powered by my absolute fuckin' hatred for the despicable fuckin' creatures who think themselves to be above the system, and think that they hold some privilege over people who actually worked a day in their fuckin' lives. And it's the politicians like that back home that made me fuckin' despise the monsters who make Gamindustri's citizens live in fear every day, because as someone who grew up in workin' class Britain, the section of society where you sometimes struggle to get through the day without killin' some dick'ead that pushes weak people around, I know that livin' in fear of some stupid arsehole monsters is not somethin' else you need on your plate when you're tryin' to stay afloat. What every average Joe wants is someone who's willin' to keep spirits high, put boot to arse, and say what any right-minded human bein' would say."

Blanc stared at him. If she was a little stunned by the tirade, which she most certainly was, she didn't show it. Jack cast a glance down at her notepad, where he saw that she had copied down every single word he had said. He pointed a finger to it. "You can quote me on that, if you want." he huffed, wiping some sweat from his brow. Blanc nodded, and for the first time, he saw her smile.

"I will," she said gently. "Those are all my questions. Thank you for your help." Jack offered a short bow.

"No worries, any time," he replied, before turning around and making his way out of the room. Behind him, he could hear Lady Blanc begin typing. As he opened the door to leave, he had a brief sense of deja vu from Red Dead Redemption: There were a whole bunch of people standing around the doorway, looking stunned. James was standing there was well, with two little girls in front of him that couldn't have been older than seven or eight. They both looked rather distressed, and had their hands over their ears. Jack stopped, and looked at the people around him. "...what?" One woman stepped forward.

"Is...everything alright with Lady Blanc?" she asked timidly. Jack slowly nodded, giving her a cautious glance.

"Yeeeeah...why do you ask...?" he trailed off.

"Oh. Um. Well. We, um, heard your shouting, Mr. Globalbone." Jack jabbed a finger at her, prompting some of the crowd to recoil.

"Keep gettin' my soddin' name wrong and I'll start yellin' again," he growled. The woman nodded quickly. "And that was just me answerin' Lady Blanc's questions about some political bollocks." James raised a hand from the foregrip of his rifle.

"Jack, stop swearin' for a minute," he demanded.

"Oi, nah, fuck off, you dirty twat," Jack replied sharply.

"There, cheers," James grinned, before patting the two little girls on their shoulders. "Rom, Ram, you can uncover your ears, now." After a pause, during which the crowds of basilicom staff went back to their normal duties, the two little girls slowly removed their incredibly tiny hands from their ears, looking slightly terrified of the even-taller-than-Mr.-Hillman-sized Jack. "Say hi," James ushered. Simultaneously, they spoke.

"H-Hello..." they whimpered. Jack knew exactly what he was meant to do in a situation where some young kids were nervous about meeting him: He dropped onto both knees and slouched down to be at their height. His career of weekend babysitting for a fiver an hour had finally taught him something useful.

"Hi," he replied gently, extending a hand. "You must be Rom and Ram, correct?" The two nodded, but didn't accept Jack's handshake. He slowly put his hand away. "Anyway, I understand that my mate James had been lookin' after you for a while before he went to Leanbox."

The girl in the pink dress smiled. "Yeah, we like Mr. Hillman!" she grinned. Her sister nodded.

"Yes...he-he's fun," she said quietly. Obviously, she must have been Rom, and the more excited of the two was Ram. James had explained that to him on the way over, and Jack had listened in-between accidentally getting a face full of Green Heart's breasts (an oddly recurring theme) and trying not to fall off her arm. Jack laughed.

"Indeed he is; He's been one of my best friends for a few years now. It's not exactly normal for a British-stroke-Scottish bloke and a Welshman to be good friends." Jack looked up at James. "Speakin' of different cultures, has anythin' come up regardin' Luke and Josh?" James shrugged with a worried expression, and Jack sighed, shaking his head. "Fuck's sake, where are those pillocks...?"

"Mr. Hillman told us about your friends," Rom suddenly spoke up, before stepping forward and putting a tiny hand on Jack's shoulder, offering a tiny little smile. "It's OK. I think they'll be found soon." Ram nodded eagerly, her grin just as beaming. Jack returned the smile, and couldn't help but find Rom and Ram to be even more endearing than Uni.

"Thanks," he replied, "But I think James and I are more worried that they'll find us first." James shrugged calmly. Good point.

"I think that you two could take 'em!" Ram said bravely. "You're both big guys and you're trained to kick butt!" Jack laughed and stood up, folding his arms.

"You've got a point there," he smiled down at the tiny little girl. "Only thing is, so are they, and I dunno what they packed for this trip." James snorted.

"Knowin' Luke, he probably came here in full British army gear," smirked the Welshman. "Or farmin' clothes." Jack laughed again, putting his hands in his pockets.

"And he'll've been gettin' into dirty business with Josh..." he trailed off. James wasn't sure if he was supposed to reprimand his friend for saying such an innuendo in front of Rom and Ram, or laugh loudly at the blatantly obvious gay sex joke that pointed all the time that Josh and Luke normally spent together before and during training, bickering between each other like a married couple. "So, anyway," Jack sighed, "What do we do now?" James looked down the hallway. Rom and Ram stared blankly at the two, smiling innocently. Jack scratched his arse for a moment. After a few seconds, James looked back.

"We could go see Oracle Mina?" he suggested. Rom and Ram gasped in delight at such a suggestion. Seeing their reaction, Jack nodded.

"Sure, don't think I've met her yet," he said, gesturing to James. "Lead the way."

"You have met her," James noted, turning and guiding the group down the huge hallway. "At the summit in Leanbox. She offered a handshake, during which you nearly broke her hand." Jack spread his arms apart in exasperation as he walked.

"That woman? That wasn't my fault!" he retorted. "She just had a very lady-like body type and that meant my huge gorilla hand engulfed half her forearm. I wonder if she remembers me."

"She probably will," James nodded, "Especially considerin' I needed to calm her down afterwards because she was shakin' so much." Jack whistled, sticking his hands in his jean pockets again.

"Ffffffff..." he began, before noticing Rom and Ram looking up at him curiously. "...ffffreakin' he...ck, I'm not that blooooooomin' scary, am I?" James rolled his eyes.

"Depends: Are you a fox in the Nevada desert?" he asked, his expression hardening. "That poor fox."

"I was hungry and had a machete, the fox was nearby, so Whoop: Deal with it." Jack cast a casual glance down the hall: They had begun to approach a small corridor, lined with small doors that wouldn't have looked out of place in an office. At the end of that, there was a single door that was open, showing a blue-haired woman in a white dress that was typing away on a computer. As they got closer, Jack noticed that she had a rather cute pair of red-rimmed glasses on the tip of her nose in front of a pair of vibrant blue eyes, both scrunched slightly as she concentrated on what Jack assumed was some paperwork of some kind. But...considering how she was only really moving the mouse and occasionally moving her left hand, he figured she was more likely to be focusing on a game of some kind. Nevertheless, the two taller men and two tiny children made the transition from grandiose halls to Gervais' office, with Jack having to crouch slightly in order to fit. James had no trouble, only having to hold his rifle by his side due to its incredible length.

As if she could see them, the moment they reached exactly halfway down the little passage, the woman lifted her head from what was probably her high-score run on Galaga and smiled at Rom and Ram. "Girls!" she beamed in a gentle tone as the two little people ran ahead into her office, giggling. "It's lovely to see you visiting!" Mina lifted Ram up onto her lap and rested a hand on Rom's head, smiling like some kind of surrogate mother. Wait. What if she was their real Mum? Jack shouldn't have thought about those kind of things. Nevertheless, James also made his presence known, but not before gesturing for Jack to hold his position in the hallway.

"Hello, Oracle," James greeted calmly. Mina looked up in surprise, before offering a genuine smile to the Welshman.

"Mr. Hillman! Lovely to see you back from your trip to Leanbox!" she beamed. James nodded, leaning his rifle against the wall.

"It's good to see you, Oracle," he nodded, before leaning forward, "Oh, uh, one thing, though." Mina raised a brow.

"Yes?" she replied calmly.

"We...had to bring Jack London back with us. Lady Blanc's orders." The colour immediately drained from the once smiling woman's face.

"O-Oh...g-goodness..." she muttered, looking away in shock. After a moment, she looked back at James, Rom and Ram still standing near her but now looking a bit worried. "Where is he now?" To answer, Jack's arm swept in from the side of the doorframe and gave a thumbs up.

"Right out here, Oracle," Jack replied calmly, dropping the arm out of view. Mina's face went even more pale in registration of how close he actually was. "Y'know," he suddenly said, "This place reminds me of that one program with Ricky Gervais, where he's an office worker in an office and does office things around the office where he works with other people from the office. James, you know what that program was called?" James groaned.

"You mean The Office?" he sighed.

"Oh, yeah, that was the one. Cheers, lad." Silence reigned again.

"Why?" Mina asked flatly, dethroning silence and sending it to the dungeons for a later public execution. James brushed through his hair.

"Lady's orders, like I said," he replied, "Nothin' fancy, just part of some deal he made with the goddesses up in Celestia."

"I'm on loan to all the countries," Jack cut in. "Babysittin' Uni for Lady Noire, helpin' with studies here in Lowee, givin' speeches in Leanbox for Lady Vert, and I'm not sure what Lady Neptune wanted me to do, but I guarantee it'll be summat menial." Mina groaned.

"Goodness. So perhaps he caused the recent fall in Lowee's shares in Leanbox?" she murmured. There was a pause. "No. That must be coincidence."

"Probably," he noted, "Also maybe it was me and James and our help in stoppin' a bank robbery and savin' some singer and her sister." Another pause. "I didn't get MAGES.' number. Bollocks."

"Another one slips through, mate," James laughed. Jack made a distressed whining noise in the corridor.