"The secret of business is to know something that nobody else knows." - Aristotle Onassis

The noisy shuffle of creaking doors and coughing announced the end of the mining company's meeting with its union.

Kyle waited back until the end, aggravated and flustered as he sorted a small pile of record claims and reports, only merely nodding to the polite goodbyes.

When he finally was dressed in his outside-wear, he found that everyone else had left besides a paralegal assistant they used, a freelancer. He was roughly the same age as Kyle, but his scornful attitude made sure that they never had a real conversation.

So when Kyle stepped outside, he was taken aback to find Adam Belanger leaning against one of the courthouse's coarse walls, puffing away at a cigarette.

"Adam." Kyle mumbled under his breath, careful to step around the plume of smoke that greeted him, near invisible against the harshness of the stormy sky.

"Bunch of thriving assholes, getting away again."

He turned around, knitting his brows together into a confused and discontent frown as he peered at Adam.

"Sorry?"

Adam took a lengthy drag from his cigarette, making his already gaunt face appear ghoulish under the lighting. It made Kyle cringe and avert his eyes.

"Your friend, Mr. Cartman."

"H-he," Kyle sniffed, "he isn't my friend."

"I don't give a shit." Adam flicked what was remaining of his cigarette away, uncaring if it was still ablaze on the stone steps. Without even thinking, Kyle rubbed it out with the heel of his shoe, creating a nasty smear on the gritty surface.

"And what is that supposed to mean? 'Getting away again'?"

"You tell me."

Kyle brushed a few loose curls back from his eyes, "I don't get what you mean."

"Look, sir." Adam gave him a sidelong glance, "I don't care if you admit or not. But just then you and that suit stuffed pig had some weird moment, something passed between you two. But regardless of who you screw...A bit of helpful advice? Do your research first."

Kyle didn't waste any more time on Adam, and acknowledged him was a curt nod. Adam Belanger wasn't exactly a people's person, so Kyle knew that talking as much as he did took a lot out of him. Still, he didn't have to like a nose in his affairs. Especially painful and personal ones like these.

Climbing into his car, quickly Kyle shot Mr. Michaels a text.

I heard something interesting. Care to shed some light on it?

It was down Main Street when he received a reply, and fishing for his cell almost got him into an accident with a bicyclist. Only his wit and reflexes left him with a shaking fist and curses as payment.

After that he safely parked himself near a pizza joint, the smell of dough heavy in the air. Crinkling his nose at the scent, Kyle scanned the message.

It depends. Care to elaborate?

Kyle chuckled; only a lawyer would clam up if you asked his honest opinion, and would force you set the guidelines.

Belanger said something about Mr. Cartman doing this before. At least his team.

Well maybe Belanger shouldn't bring up gossip.

Kyle drummed his fingers along his dashboard. Something fishy was going on if Mr. Michaels was in a worse fit than usual.

Maybe. But maybe Mr. Belanger should help out if he believes it can spare some families loosing jobs and generations of community.

He knew it was mean to say, but sometimes Mr. Michaels needed a little push. He only hoped he used the right amount and this wouldn't turn out to be a disaster.

Kyle, please remember what I said earlier. We just do what we're told, we defend in ways that only lawyers can do. Please don't look further into this, and get some rest. You deserve it.

He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes shut as he let out a massive sigh. It looked like he'd be on his own again, prodding to see if he could stir anything up. He just hoped his assumptions weren't right.

"Sir!" Haley called out, trying to get Eric to slow down as she scurried to keep up. Her high heels were bright and shiny, but tragically squeezed the life out of her toes. It made moments such as these, horrendous.

With a brave leap that left her stumbling into a leather jacket, Haley anchored herself by clutching the cuff of his sleeve.

"Sir." She tried again, wincing at the distant look in Eric's eyes.

"Yes?" he grunted in return, but it lacked his usual cheery disposition. Or as much as he could manage at this exact moment.

Haley's stomach felt fragile, "Sir, if I may be frank."

"Spit it out, Haley. I have to run a tight schedule."

She cleared her throat, "I know you're trying to appear cool headed and completely unaffected. That's why you choose to attend today's meeting...but if it hurts you so much to see...K-that daywalker, then maybe you should just leave this up to me."

Eric halted, turning around fully so the pair could see eye-to-eye. He clasped his large hands on her shoulders, giving the brittle bones underneath a squeeze.

"Haley, I love you, but I won't allow you to compromise my work. Undermine me or go behind my back again, and you won't have a tongue to say anymore suggestions. Are we clear?"

She nodded her head, unable to do anything else.

"Good, I'm going to get a hamburger."

He left her there, gaping in the streets. Somehow the winter chill felt worse alone.

Kyle cursed under his breath, stalking to the closest public library in the neighborhood. He had shown up to a cafe, using the free wifi there to search Eric Cartman's companies. There was barely any information on either of them, only descriptions that made it seem like they worked towards the greater good.

And certainly nothing on why they would need a mining company in South Park, as anyone could tell you that the mines were quickly drying up. It made no sense, no genuine business man would buy them out.

Determined to unearth what was really going on, Kyle found himself in a dismal library.

With the cold breathing down his neck, he stepped inside to only be announced by the small bell that was rigged to the door.

"Hello, where do you keep your records on local events?" he inquired, smiling at the elderly woman at the front desk. She brushed back the stray hairs that escaped her messy bun, "In the back, go left then straight." She gestured with a gnarled hand.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

Following the librarian's instructions, which weren't as straight forward as they seemed. Eventually the young lawyer found himself near a counter that was stacked in folders, with yellowing paper that seemed to stick out.

Kyle flipped through them, scanning to see if anything stood out or linked itself to Eric Cartman. Settling himself at one of the tables, he eventually did find an article that struck his fancy. It read as:

YOUNG MAN SEIZES HOLD OF ELECTRICAL COMPANY!

Everyone at Novak United were shocked to find themselves working with someone other than their usual employer, Mr. Sokolowski. An unnamed young man, with considerable prowess, managed to buy the corporation giant. Shortly afterwards, he fired everyone and brought in his own people. Strangely enough, the once vocal former workers have since refused to make further comment on the incident. However, an insider for the new CEO of Novak United is said to be making claims on the budding company Groff Inc., a family owned steel mine and manufacturer.

Looking into this further showed a pattern to Kyle, an unknown individual bought companies for some strange purpose. But only when he bought the company, he usually fired the mass of workers that had been employed there for decades. Only a handful were the originals.

But even if the desired mission was still unclear to Kyle, something wasn't. He was sure it was Eric, and he planned on getting away with it again.

Taking his phone out of his coat, quickly Kyle took some pictures with his cell before he returned the folder to its rightful place.

Despite their past connections, Kyle wasn't going to let him get away with this. Not even in the slightest.