Hello readers! Hope all my fellow country men enjoyed their Thanksgivings! And for all my foreign readers I hope your weeks went well and brought you joy. Sorry for the late post, been very busy as of late. So busy I have news! I will be posting a little less frequently. Most likely having to drop down to only one or two chapters a week. But I gotta do what I gotta do. Apartment rennovations aren't cheap and they are very time consuming. Jaune only chapter today. With plenty of world building and nuance. Hope you all enjoy, and hope to see your reviews!
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Jaune kept his head down just as Qrow had told him to. His back was pressed flat against the exterior wall of the casino. It was more of a gambling hole than anything but he guessed criminals had to label their operations by legal definitions in order to fly under the radar. He had one leg hiked up, the flat of his shoe pressed back into the wall. He kept having to reign in his arms to a crossed position so they weren't just fidgeting around. Acting like he belonged there was increasingly difficult. The average passersby on the streets in this portion of the city dressed in casual and most times dull colored clothing. In fact the only other people that were dressed as nice as he and Qrow were the actual gangsters that they spotted entering when they got here. All three of them were wearing suits with their button-up shirts half open to reveal tattoos that spanned their chests. Even the bouncer six steps to his side, who was guarding the door, was dressed in a simple black suit. Though he had removed the jacket, most likely due to the humidity, standing in only his vest and shirt.
Jaune thought it funny that the 'low-lifes' of the gangs both here and back in Vale all dressed with such collective class. He always imagined thugs to dress in dark hoodies and jeans and carry around switchblades and brass knuckles. But so far the only criminals he had come across that weren't in a fanatical terrorist organization all dressed like they were professional tax-collectors. Or funeral home owners. It felt like maybe all the schoolhouse propaganda he had been exposed to in his home town was geared more for teaching him to avoid grungy drug dealers than it was for the truly dangerous people in society. And the men Qrow had gone in to talk with must be dangerous, judging by the fact Jaune hadn't seen a single patrol car or on duty police officer since entering this section of the city. Meaning the police weren't gonna get caught dead out here unless they were forcibly called in to deal with a situation.
Organized crime was one of the first things mentioned in the criminal justice books he had been studying. How old money organizations tended to appeal to young men and women with nowhere to go for societal advancement. That ruthless business practices birth violence and reputation wars. Then the pride associated with being aligned with that reputation leads to territories being established. Which localizes the mentalities and further divides the groups into fully establishing themselves as gangs or mobs. Then all it takes is for them to start forcing out their competitors and making enough money to buy weapons, supplies, influence, and locations to operate from. Then even the local authorities have to start thinking twice before they make moves. Otherwise they upset the status quo based on the reputations the gangs all treasure so much. A single mistimed arrest would then set off an entire gang war that could result in dozens dead.
Jaune understood why organized crime would never die. They were all so deeply rooted in their respective societies that even if you root them out, arrest their leaders, destroy their merchandise, and confiscate their locations… A new head will grow, and more people will flock to fill the void. And in the months it would take the police to stage a new takedown, the gang would have learned, adapted, and relocated. It was a sad reality that in today's age, you simply had to pick the lesser of evils to live with. In this case, the lesser evil was a gambling den based gang that went by 'The Golden Cranes'. The leader was evidently a man that Qrow had arrested over a decade ago. He had shot through the ranks in prison, gathering a reputation for brutal punishments and never backing out of a promise or deal. Once he got out, he offed the leaders of his old gang and forced a hostile takeover.
Qrow had far too much on his plate with the shadow war to come back and handle crime at this level. So they were only here now because evidently 'Ironside Lee' knew something about Salem's agents here in Mistral. The front door opening drew both Jaune's attention, and that of the bouncer. After the first two suited gangsters exited, the bouncer bowed at the waist and said something loudly in a language Jaune didn't know. The next two individuals that stepped out onto the sidewalk were Qrow, and a very bulky Mistralian man wearing a gold and maroon suit that had black floral designs all over it. He was just as tall as Jaune, but was several inches broader in the shoulders and thicker in the chest. His black hair was buzzed short and his finely trimmed beard framed his wide jaw well. The man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket and placed one dart between his lips before stopping still and glancing over to Jaune.
"Hm." The man let out before lighting his cigarette. "Got a tail Qrow?"
Jaune stepped away from the wall and took a single step forward. He let his arms drop to his sides loosely before he nodded to the man. The air hung silent for a moment, as both of the Mob-bosses' guards stepped to place themselves between Jaune and Lee.
"No no. What do you take me for, Lee?" Qrow laughed as he saddled up beside the larger man. "This is my apprentice, Rook."
Both guards glanced backwards to their boss, who nodded and turned back towards the street. Both underlings then took their hands away from the insides of their jackets and returned to frame either side of Jaune's mentor and Lee. With the tension gone, Jaune calmly approached and stood in front of Qrow on the curb.
"Hello. Sorry to be a bother, but may I ask about…" Jaune began asking Lee.
"I'm not repeating myself for you. Qrow can tell you everything on the way." Lee responded, offering Jaune a cigarette.
Jaune took it, very aware of everyone's eyes being on him right now. He placed it to his lips and was about to reach out to ask for a lighter when one of the guards produced one and lit Jaune's cigarette without him even getting a word out. Jaune nodded his thanks and took a couple drags as they all waited. He had picked up on the gangster's words, and understood they were waiting for transportation. Which arrived in the form of two blacked out sedans with raised suspension. Lee and his guards entered the rear vehicle as Jaune and Qrow entered the lead car. The interior was sleek leather, with a window slot separating the front seats and backseat of the car. Shortly after they settled in, the car rumbled and began driving down the streets of lower Mistral.
"So what's the deal with all this? I thought second locations were taboo." Jaune spoke quietly to his mentor.
"Normally they are. But Lee told me the only outsiders that had come around making demands and offering money for manpower operate in a rival gang's territory on the outskirts of Mistral. A real rowdy bunch with high numbers and low tolerance for legal authority. Lee is escorting us to their headquarters to introduce us so we don't get lit up for sniffing around. With honor among thieves and all, as long as it's Lee that drops us off and makes the call, the other guy is obligated to at least entertain our questions. If he doesn't, Lee would make it known the guy had no respect for the other traditions all the gang leaders hold to." Qrow explained quickly and straight to the point.
"Ok. So we are going into a nest of Vipers, and the only thing buying us an audience with their boss is a guy you put in prison for five years? Fantastic." Jaune whined.
"Lee knows I only put him there because he got sloppy. He doesn't hold it against me, even sent me a 'thank you note' after he got out. Evidently I taught him everything he needed to know to keep Huntsmen from getting an angle on him." Qrow stated, the last sentence having a disappointed tone to it.
The rest of the ride went by in silence. Jaune felt the car roll off smooth pavement and onto dirt roads mixed with shotty asphalt throughout it. The jolting of the car told him exactly why the vehicles had been upgraded with taller suspension. The abundant buildings grew sparser as they got further and further from the interior of the mountains that framed the center of Mistral. The surrounding sections of city that pooled out into the wilderness had an aged patina to them that spoke of constant reconstruction or renovations. Most likely due to Grimm and gang wars having turned the place into a warzone many times over. Eventually the cars stopped on the side of a woodland trail, in front of a large compound with stone walls. The driver of Lee's car exited and approached the gate before hoisting a round metallic object above his head with one arm. The gate shuddered before drawing away slowly. The driver returned to his car and Jaune glanced out the windows as their small convoy entered the compound.
The place was much nicer than he gave it credit for from the outside. It had several large yards of finely mowed grass, accented by groves of colorful trees. The main building at the far end was very large, and ornate. With traditional Mistralian architecture, and hand-cut wooden pillars that held up clay tiled roofing sections. Wading pools of water dotted either end of the round driveway that ended in front of the massive building. Over a dozen men dressed in traditional Mistralian robes, and armed with heavy looking war-swords, stood in a still line awaiting them on the steps to the entrance of the main building. The cars stopped with their sides parallel with the awaiting gangsters. Qrow nodded and whispered to Jaune before reaching for his door handle.
"Stay calm. The last thing we want is Creature scaring everyone into action."
Jaune swallowed, and took several calming breaths before exiting the car at the same time as Lee, his guards, and Qrow. The line of men all put one fist to their chests and nodded their heads all at once upon seeing Lee. Then they separated down the middle and stood in two equal ranks, creating a path to the door. Jaune followed Qrow, behind Lee as they entered the building without any guards. Once inside Jaune came to a realization. It wasn't a compound at all. Well maybe it served as that, but it wasn't designed for that. It was a house. A very large one, by Vale standards you could consider it a mansion. The only difference being that the entire house was one single floor with many side hallways and paper dividing walls. The room they had entered was big enough that in the center sat a two-story tall stone carving. It depicted a faceless man with flowing robes fighting a King Taijitu, both combatants locked in eternal struggle. The pillars were carved with their own imagery and the rugs that lined the floor were brightly colored and expensive looking.
After a short ordeal of checking in all their weapons with a blind elderly man at the front, along with their shoes, the three of them were handed off to a middle aged man who began guiding them through the house. Jaune wasn't stupid though. He kept Ignis Ferrum on his left arm. It was plain-looking enough that he knew they wouldn't know it was a weapon unless they closely examined it. To non-Huntsmen it would just look like a normal gauntlet. Or at least they hadn't said anything about it so far. After passing by several rooms and even a fighting Dojo, two large wooden doors were pressed outwards by their guide. They then stepped out of the back of the house and into a private garden area. It was lined on all sides by a mixture of weeping-willow trees, and bamboo. The centerpiece of the garden was a large arrangement of multi-colored flowers that were grown and trimmed to depict twin dragons chasing each other's tail with open maws from above. A simple square table sat at the center of the garden, situated between the flower beds.
Sat at the opposite end of the table from them was an ancient man. Jaune would place him in his late eighties, judging by the stretching and thinning of the man's skin visible under the moon and yard lights. Their guide bowed and announced them in the same language Jaune didn't understand before. The old man simply raised his hand and flicked it to the side. The guide backed away before rounding and entering the house once more, closing the doors as he went. Lee approached and sat to the left of the man. Qrow took the place to the right. Leaving Jaune to sit opposite the man. As they all crouched and crossed their legs on the cushions provided, the old man spoke.
"Atlesian is not my first language. So please excuse grammar." The reedy but strong voice of the old man set Jaune at ease, being softer than he imagined. "I am Ling Mei. You are?"
"Qrow Branwen, Mr. Ling." Qrow spoke, setting his flask on the table and nodding to the elderly man before them.
"Jaune Arc. The pleasure is all mine Sir." Jaune spoke evenly, trying to hide his inexperience.
Jaune noticed that Lee had not introduced himself, even if only to greet his associate. Maybe they were more rivals than he could tell. But the way Mr. Ling's eyes narrowed at Jaune's introduction, or the way they slid over the symbol on Qrow's flask, told Jaune they were about to be known entities to a very dangerous man.
"Arc. Branwen." Mr. Ling chuckled, like he had heard an old but familiar joke. "I know these names. Strong histories."
"Mr. Ling. I'm not here on behalf of the Branwen clan. My sister holds the seat, and drags our name through the mud every day. I have no interest in becoming a member of your mutual circles. I simply came, with my apprentice, hoping to ask a few questions." Qrow respectfully stated.
"Ah." Mr. Ling said knowingly, before pouring himself and each of them some tea. Or maybe alcohol, judging by the sharp smell. "You seek three people, don't you?"
Jaune felt his eyebrows raise, and heard Qrow shift in his seat. The elderly man before them was certainly proving to be not only intelligent, but well informed. In the right circumstances that could prove to be a very dangerous concoction. Especially now that the man knew their faces and names and could pair the two together. They would have to play this carefully.
"You are very right." Jaune interjected. "I guess they weren't quiet enough in their moves."
"You mistake me, young Master Arc." Mr. Ling began sharply. "I am not hunting them. We are not on similar sides. I simply hear of everything that happens here in my home. I know when every leaf falls, and hear every whisper. My knowledge isn't free."
"We can offer compensation." Qrow said, pulling a plastic card from his back pocket and placing it on the table.
Jaune watched his mentor slide the plain-looking gray card towards Mr. Ling with a slow hand movement. The old man stared right into Qrow's eyes, never once wavering as his hand moved to gently take the card.
"A Huntsman of your renown, giving me a bribe?" Mr. Ling smiled. "No. It must be something else. No?"
"It's a contact number. If the authorities ever nab one of your important men, that card is a get out of jail free ticket. One time only, but it might save your current operation." Qrow offered up.
Mr. Ling simply began laughing. A few coughs interrupted his laughing fit before he settled down. His hand simply flicked the card back to Qrow, the opposing hand extended out over the table to Jaune.
"Young man." Mr. Ling started as he took Jaune's wrist firmly. "Do you know what I am?"
"You are a mob boss… A very well connected, well funded, and well respected one. Sir." Jaune replied, allowing his right hand to be drawn over the tea set.
"I am the son of a farmer." Mr. Ling chuckled. "My father was too. His father before, and his father before. All of us inherited the farming empire from the last. Each of us worked in the fields in our youth, every day for many years. We have been in control of the crops and livestock that feed Mistral for seven generations. Now tell me, why do I laugh at your Master's offer?
Jaune sat and thought for a second, very aware of the paper thin fingers holding onto his wrist and keeping him leaned forward. His thoughts raced, but he managed to keep his emotions in check and think through all the reasons Mr. Ling might scoff at Qrow's helpful offer.
"Because you don't need it." Jaune spoke confidently.
Qrow raised a brow and shifted to look at Jaune, Lee doing similar actions. Mr. Ling on the other hand smiled wide, revealing old and rotted teeth, with several metal caps and casings. The old man's eyes lit up.
"Go on." The elderly man ordered quietly.
"You control the food. You most likely own most if not the entire valley. All the crops and animals are your product. Where Mr. Lee uses gambling to launder money and steal from people with addictions, you simply tell the government exactly what is going to happen. You simply have to withhold the food supply and wait for the government of Mistral to come begging at your feet. If they cross you, you could starve out most of the city without them being able to do anything. If they tried to make a move you'd burn the fields and slaughter the livestock. It would be mutually assured destruction. No one would win. So if they want that to not happen, they have to listen to you. And follow most of your demands. The offer is useless because if one of your men gets arrested you simply need to make a phone call and it would all go away." Jaune rambled, trying to keep his voice steady and his words aligned properly.
Silence held over them for several moments before the old man reached up and placed something in Jaune's hand, before releasing his wrist. Looking down, Jaune found a round coin-like object about the size of a soup can lid. It was heavy, and probably made entirely of gold. It had the twin dragons symbol of the garden forged into the face, with many small dots and hash marks situated between the serpents.
"An Arc." Mr. Ling chuckled. "Always so good at seeing. Seeing all that is around them, even in others."
"Sir, am I missing something?" Qrow asked politely.
"The three outsiders you hunt… They offend me. Come to my fields, demand men from my trusted right hand. Then they burn his face to ash when he refused. All his men died fighting the three when they tried to stake claim as the new bosses. Loyal to the last man. Take my crest, and when you find them, place it with their bodies. Or in their things when you arrest them. Either way, the police will know what to do with them after you're finished with your business." Mr. Ling lectured.
"Thank you Sir. We will do our best to be quick while on your turf. And we will leave as soon as we get our targets." Qrow said, standing and nodding.
"Thank you Sir." Jaune repeated as he stood and tried his best to bow correctly.
The old man simply raised his hand and waved it to the side. Several soft sounds all around them echoed out. Out from the willow trees and bamboo appeared several men and women, all dressed in what Jaune could only describe as ninja outfits. The colors were varied, from dark browns, greens, and grays, to deep and dull reds. Jaune swallowed, realizing they had all been there the entire time. And in the dim light they might as well have all been invisible. The coloration of their clothing having blended into the natural background seamlessly. This was a power move. A statement. One that said 'I know you will be quick, and I will know your movements'.
"I feel we can all trust each other now. Enough to show our hands." Mr. Ling said with a straight face, his eyes narrowed and his lips in a slight scowl. "Or gauntlet perhaps?"
Jaune coughed and bowed quickly once again. It took everything in him to calm himself and prevent Creature from ruining this all by accident. Even then he almost felt as if he needed to wrestle the aura back up his legs and into his chest.
"I'm sorry!" Jaune let out.
"Leave. Mr. Branwen, and Young Master Arc. Leave and go chase your mice. The hounds must talk business now. Have a good stay in my lands." Mr. Ling said, turning his attention to Lee.
Jaune and Qrow linked up side by side and were guided by the same middle aged man from before back through the luxury house. Eventually they made it back to the main entrance and were given all their weapons back before being escorted out and to their car by the dozen armed men they met when they arrived. Once inside the driver nodded, asked Qrow where they were to be dropped off, and began driving away from the compound. The entire time, Jaune flipped the coin over in his hands repeatedly. The silence of the cabin punctuated his own inner turmoil. He didn't expect to meet someone like that. Who held so much power that he could probably ooze it from his pores. That could have him hunted down and made to disappear with the snap of his fingers. Not to mention if any corrupt Huntsmen out there were possibly employed by Mr. Ling.
"What gang does he run?" Jaune asked Qrow quietly.
Qrow smirked, shook his head and wrung his hands before placing one on Jaune's shoulder and speaking.
"Jaune, that was the only living patriarch of the Mistralian Triad. You've probably heard of them in world history class in high-school." Qrow sighed.
"Wait… Did I just meet one of the richest people on Remnant?" Jaune asked with his eyes wide and his back suddenly straight.
"Third richest. Right behind the Vacuo royal line, and the Schnee. Ling owns ninety percent of all croplands on this continent. Along with about half of Vale's. He pretty much supplies all the food for both Mistral and Atlas. Vale has a lot of independent market laws that prevent him from bending their arms the way he does the other two nations. Allowing us to grow enough of our own food supply to keep him out of our national affairs." Qrow explained.
"Wait… So is he even considered a gangster?" Jaune asked.
"Jaune there is very little difference between a gang buying up everything, enforcing their way with violence, and paying the government to look the other way, or a hyper-capitalist company doing the same. It's all the same shit. It's just that when you are as big as the Schnee, or the Triad, you get called a corporation instead of a mob."
Jaune sat with that information for the rest of the ride. He knew it was true, and now he even knew just how far it could go. A criminal overlord running a 'legit' business and using the power to influence entire kingdoms to follow his will when he truly needed it. Imagine what it would be like if all the men and women just like Ling all got together and hashed out their own agreements. Maybe they wouldn't even have to. Maybe all their interests were already aligned and they simply played off of each other to further their own control of society. Is this what conspiracy was like? True conspiracy that wasn't something about the 'truth' of what the government puts in the water? Was the real conspiracy simply that power and influence was more criminal than anyone could think?
Regardless, Jaune was jolted back to reality when the car stopped and the driver signaled for them to exit the vehicle. Qrow immediately pulled out his scroll and texted a quick missive. When Jaune asked, he simply got an explanation that he was letting Ozpin know they were on the trail now. As the car disappeared over the distant hills, and the cool winter air tickled at Jaune's ears, Qrow sighed and nudged Jaune's arm.
"Well, that went ok. I think. We got permission to snoop around and find our idiots. But we should work fast, got a few ideas on where to start." Qrow started. "Maybe we should ask around about that dead Triad lieutenant and his men. Someone has to know something about all that went down."
Jaune thought over it for a minute as they walked towards the center of the hamlet they were dropped off in. The squat but stylish buildings grew less sparse until they reached what you might call 'town square'. The only building with lights on was a road tavern for travelers. Jaune spoke his thoughts as they stopped on the precipice of the building entrance.
"Do you think the workers might have seen anything? I mean, the Triad runs all the farms and ranches here. Maybe a couple field hands or trail bosses have heard or seen the people we are after." Jaune asked.
"Good pick. Only thing is we need to figure out exactly which farm it all went down on first. That's where the bar comes in handy." Qrow gestured as he pulled the door open and guided them both inside.
The interior was actually similar to roadside taverns Jaune had seen in vale, surprisingly. With an arrangement of booths and round tables scattered along the walls and filling the main floor. A large bar/grill combination lined the back wall and held a large assortment of alcohol and menu lists. About a dozen or so people sat around in pairs or small groups. Most of them are still wearing their work outfits and bearing dirty hands and faces. Most of them glanced up to them as they made their way to the bar, but only momentarily. A gentle Mistralian cover of a popular song played faintly over the speakers behind the bar. Jaune drew out his stool beside his mentor and let his shoulders relax as he leaned forward, his forearms on the bar surface.
Qrow raised his finger and got the attention of the bartender, then ordered two glasses and a bottle of cheap bourbon. As soon as the three items were placed before them, Qrow cracked the cork open and began pouring for both of them.
"Should we be drinking on the job?" Jaune asked, taking the half-full glass in hand.
"Kid, eventually you are gonna realize that the two aren't exclusive. Almost every Huntsman or Huntress has a vice to help them ease off the gas. A particular sedative they prefer. Mine is clearly booze." Qrow rolled his eyes and tapped his glass against Jaune's before sipping.
"I am starting to see why. I've had one hell of a night trying to keep myself in check, so I don't accidentally release Creature." Jaune acknowledged. "At least the worst didn't come to pass."
"You have been doing good with all that. I'm glad we haven't had to explain him away under stress yet. I don't even know where to start if we have to. I mean, what can we say to make people not afraid of him?" Qrow shrugged.
"I don't know either." Jaune began, before switching topics. "So how is drinking at the bar going to help us find someone to question?"
"We are in an area run by the largest criminal organization in Mistral. All we have to do is look out of place, and someone will come up to check us. It's like putting peanut butter in front of a mouse. They always go for it." Qrow said with a smirk as he used the reflection off his glass to spy someone approaching from behind them.
A meaty hand thumped down on the bar to Qrow's other side as a man turned his body to face them and lean on the wooden barrier.
"You two don't seem like you're from around here." The rugged man said with a broken-toothed smile. "Get lost on the road?"
Jaune spied Qrow turning on his stool and gripping his glass differently. Jaune inched his left hand down from the bar and gripped the scabbard of Crocea Mors.
"Oh us? Nah, we are just rolling through. Got word from Ling that some shady outsiders were hiding out in the area. Know anything about that?" Qrow got straight to the point.
At the mention of Ling, the bottom-tier gangster's eyes widened for a second before hardening again.
"Lord Ling wouldn't waste his time asking for the help of Huntsmen from another continent. You take me for a fool?" The man said, anger rising in his voice.
Jaune saw his moment and took it. His right hand dipped into his pocket and produced the crest coin before flashing it over Qrow's shoulder.
"Maybe you are a fool. Or maybe we aren't just some Huntsmen from another continent. Answer the question." Jaune ordered with confidence he didn't really feel, his left hand peeling off his weapon to bring his glass to his lips.
The man balked, but bit down on the retort he most likely wanted to say. His shoulders relaxed and he rolled his eyes before speaking.
"Go to the end of the road leading north out of town. There will be a huge iron cattle-gate. It has three 'L's' on it. Can't miss it. Sorry for the trouble." The man bared his teeth menacingly after the last sentence before stalking back to his table.
"Good turn around kid. I was kinda hoping I got to bat him around a bit. Blow off some steam." Qrow laughed.
"Don't joke about that. It's bad enough they all talk like that." Jaune frowned before pointing his finger at his mentor with mock venom.
"Right, right. You know I didn't mean it. Anyway I paid for the bottle, so finish your glass and let's get walking. You can keep the bottle in your bag." Qrow said, knocking back the rest of his glass and standing from his stool.
"Fine, but we leave it at the hotel when we get back there. Last thing I need is the thing to break and get all over my rifle and supplies." Jaune groaned.
As he stood, Jaune had a paper placed in front of him on the bar. The bartender narrowed his eyes and jerked his head towards the second floor overlook. Jaune cocked his head and spied a figure in a hood sitting up there alone at a side table. Jaune opened the paper while Qrow stretched his back, knowing the man wasn't paying attention. It read simply: Let's chat. Ditch the bird.
Jaune nudged Qrow. The older man looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. The paper was hidden in his jacket by then, and Jaune smirked.
"I gotta hit the can for a minute. Haven't gone since this morning. Wait for me outside, I'll be quick." Jaune lied.
Qrow, having trust in Jaune, simply rolled his shoulder and yawned before nodding and walking to the front door. As soon as it was closed, Jaune climbed the stairs and slowly approached the hooded figure, the bottle of bourbon in his right hand. He slowly drew out the chair as he spoke.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Jaune asked, still standing, his left hand gripping the top of the chair's backrest.
The moment dragged out for an eternity it seemed like before the figure began to reply.
"Sit down, Rook. I didn't fly down from my station to waste our delicate time." A male voice cut across harshly.
Jaune sat and placed the bottle down as he peered through the dim lighting in an attempt to see who he was dealing with. A strong jaw, with light stubble. The hint of sharp angled clothing peaking out above the heavy cloak.
"I received word that you were with your mentor here in Mistral. So I thought I would take a day or two to come find you and clue you in to my recent discovery. It has relevance to you I've gathered." The man spoke evenly.
"Good to know. Got a name I can call you? Cause it seems you know both of mine." Jaune answered with a question of his own.
"Lucky." The man spoke. "My code name. Don't go throwing it around. I'm not supposed to be here."
"Gotcha. My lips are sealed. So what's up?"
"Intelligence came across my desk that directly relates to you. As a gesture of us working together in the future, I thought I would brief you." Lucky said with a sigh.
"Better make it quick, or else Qrow might come looking for me." Jaune threw out, hoping for this to go quickly.
"Understood. A very dangerous H.V.T has been sighted in Mistral proper. They never venture into society without urgent reason. I'm here to warn you, where Crown has failed to. I don't think it's a coincidence that the enemy's bloodhound shows up in the same city as you two only a day later. You've been made. Get out before the group of the Queen's assets collaborate to end you both. Good luck Rook." Lucky informed before standing and making his way backwards and down the stairs.
Jaune frowned. This wasn't good news. Either they had been made by CCTV, or the enemy had eyes and ears somewhere that sold them out. Evidently they were about to have a major problem on their hands if they didn't hoof it back to a safe location. Jaune grabbed the bottle, and turned. But a very fast ball of black feathers slammed into his stomach and almost bowled him over as it transformed. Suddenly standing before him was his mentor, panting for air.
"Qrow? What the hell…" Jaune started.
"We gotta go! Back door, now!" Qrow hissed quietly before grabbing Jaune by the arm and dragging him down the rear stairs and out into the alley.
"What is wrong?" Jaune asked, his heart starting to hammer.
"Hazel Rainart and Tyrion Callows are out front! Two very bad lieutenants under Salem. I could take just one, but both would be impossible, even with both of us together. We need to retreat. Find a safehouse." Qrow said, dragging Jaune along as they began jogging.
"I'll text the contact I got from Dagger, they will get us out!" Jaune whisper-yelled as he drew his covert scroll from his pocket and began texting for help.
They got into open country, and ran for what felt like miles. Through wheat fields, rice marshes, poppy plantations, and other crop fields, before stopping in the edge of the woodlands that start the untamed wilderness. They found a downed log to slump down against and Jaune drew his scroll out once more before checking for a response. There was one, it was simply a string of numbers, and one word: Killjoy. Qrow looked over and between pants, spoke.
"Coordinates of a safehouse. And a password to get us in. Plug it into the GPS." Qrow said, wiping humid sweat from his brow.
"Done, it's in the city. Says it's a four hour walk." Jaune moaned as he rubbed his forehead. "Does this mean our mission is scrubbed?"
"Yeah. It does. We could probably have taken on the others if we had found them. But five of them minimum with those two bastards in the fray would be suicide. Whatever they are doing down here must be important enough to call in the big guns to keep us off the scent." Qrow explained as he stood.
"Fuck." Jaune spat on the dirt.
"Fuck indeed." Qrow laughed. "Alright, let's get back before sunrise. Then we call Ozpin and find out our next steps."
Yeah. Something told Jaune they would be something along the lines of 'don't die, and get out fast'.