Chapter 4: Humanity's Hottest Investigates
Day 3
"Lance Corporal Levi Ackerman is a man of few words, and his eternally bored expression may make one wonder at the thoughts passing through his mind. But what he fails to express in words, he makes up for with his hands. Truly, corporal Levi has shown that he is a hands-on man who loves a meaty body grab as much as he does a clean house. His strong, firm hands have patted the head of many a respected soldier and restrained many a rash soldier from rushing to an early death. The corporal cherishes his shared space with others, and his rough but tender ministrations make him all the more charming."
Picture: A stunning, hand-drawn, black-and-white depiction of half-naked Levi moulding a clay pot, his hands caked in clay. His eyes gaze at the pot with burning intensity.
Picture caption: We wanted to ask the Lance Corporal to do it but feared the activity would conflict too strongly with his fastidious nature. Here's an artistic rendering instead.
As a child of the Underground, Levi had an affinity for finding and navigating the twisting alleyways of large cities. This skill was useful to him now, as he did not want to draw unnecessary attention.
At length, he reached his destination undetected. Levi darted into the printing press of The Trost Tribute and quickly looked about. The front office was busy and littered with men running about. Many were at their desks scribbling down stories or chatting on the phone. He approached a balding man who was poring over a file of papers. Without ceremony, Levi tossed the day's paper onto the man's desk and pointed at the offending section. "Oi, geezer. Did you write this?"
The man was unfazed by Levi's rude manner. "If it isn't Lance Corporal Levi! Rod Kellerman, pleased to make your acquaintance." He reached out a hand, and when Levi didn't take it, withdrew it and studied the section briefly. "No, I didn't. But I got a letter from somebody requesting to publish these excerpts. The higher ups discussed the request and agreed to take on the job. Something about excess column space and a good theme – with the recent upheavals we've had in Trost, the city needs a boost in public morale." Rod skimmed over the column again. "It's a little amateurish, but an entertaining read nonetheless."
"Who is the brat who requested this?"
Rod studied him carefully. "I can't say. They wanted to remain anonymous and we respect the privacy of our sources."
"It's mostly false. And today's piece could get me arrested for workplace indecency. If you don't tell me who the brat is, you and your company are liable for careless reporting and slander."
Rod shrugged. "Difficult. Trost staunchly supports freedom of the press. And your interpretation of today's piece is down to personal interpretation. The editing and legal teams did not read it that way or we would never have published it."
Levi grabbed an inkwell sitting on Rod's desk and smashed it against the desk. The inkwell shattered and ink exploded across the desk and onto the floor. Levi noted with distaste that the ink also stained his hand. The office went silent, and all eyes were on them.
Rod looked unfazed. "I thought you might be that kind of squirt."
With lightning speed, Levi darted behind the man and grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully behind his back. Rod yelped.
"So it is true, you are a hands-on man!"
"Wrong answer again," Levi spat, pulling Rod's arm even harder. "Now who approached you?"
"O-Okay, I'll tell you! Just let me go already! It hurts!" Levi released Rod's arm and glared at the others nearby, who suddenly found their own tasks much more entertaining. When the office was bustling again, Rod spoke.
"Well, I can't tell you outright, but – wait – " Levi's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I can tell you it was a man. Didn't get a proper look at him, he was wearing a large hat and a trenchcoat. But he left us a letter with instructions." Rod rummaged through a small drawer in his desk and handed Levi a small, yellow note. Levi glanced over it. It was a simple note listing the order in which to publish the articles.
"Do you have the remaining segments?"
"Yes." Suddenly, there was a steely glint in Rod's eye. "But I'm not giving them to you! Our readership has increased 32% since publishing this series and I get a bonus for bringing this to the boss."
With one smooth swipe, Levi snatched Rod's file from his desk and opened it, ignoring Rod's protests. He couldn't find the remaining sections in the file, but he did find a small picture book of scantily-clad women in lewd poses jammed in the middle.
"Kellerman, you are quite the altruist, giving me all the ladies and leaving only pictures for yourself."
"Keep your voice down!" Rod hissed and tried in vain to recover his file.
"Honestly, I couldn't care less what you do. But I think your boss might be interested in exactly how you spend your working hours."
"What do you want from me," Rod said with gritted teeth.
Levi thought quickly. He could tell Rod to cease publishing the segments, but he also wanted to flush out the rat and punish them personally without raising their suspicion first. He laid out his plan before the journalist, who carried it out with minimal persuasion. When he was satisfied, Levi stood up to leave.
"By the way, our logistics department is assessing their budget this week. I'll propose the Trost Herald as a better information source for our recruits." Levi said.
"We're cheaper than the Trost Herald!" Rod protested.
"In content, definitely."
The jibe wasn't great, but Levi felt three inches taller as he left the office.
It was getting dark, but Levi wanted to check one more thing. He returned to his office and wandered into the storeroom next to it. There were several storerooms scattered throughout the building, but this was the one where they kept all the stationery. He looked at the yellow note in his palm and moved to the shelf where they stocked papers, scanning over the plethora of notepads until they rested on a stack of small, yellow sheafs of notepaper in a corner. Match.
Next was the ink. The ink on the notepaper was black, but it had a blueish tinge and a polished sheen that was familiar to the corporal. He returned to his office and sat at his desk. Dipping pen into inkwell, he scrawled on the side of the note and waited for it to dry. He compared his ink with the note's ink. Match.
Levi leant on his desk and rested his chin on propped elbows, thinking.
His suspicions were confirmed: someone in the military was leaking information about him. It seemed to be (mostly) harmless, but nobody messed with Levi Ackerman and got away with it. He was going to find out who they were and make them pay.
A/N: Thanks for reading, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Up next: stealthy meetings, back-alley chases, and the mystery writer revealed!