AN: Different fonts denote different languages.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER DEPICTS AN INSTANCE OF PHYSICAL ABUSE. SKIP IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ.

Normal font is English, Italics is Halkeginia's language,and underline is Japanese.

-o0o-

Vergil and Nero trekked across the numerous rooftops, carefully eyeing the streets below. More guards sauntered by, swords drawn, catching the eye of many passersby. They swiftly rounded a corner, leaving behind the hunters. The two silently dropped down behind stacks of boxes. The younger hunter peered around the corner, and upon spotting no nosy eyes, stepped out into the street.

"Well, not the kind of first impression I wanted to leave," Nero said as he turned to his dad. "So what now? Not sure any place is gonna hire us now that we're on the run."

Vergil folded his arms across his chest.

"Perhaps that is for the best."

Nero raised a brow in response.

"Don't see how bein' outuva' a job's a good thing. Unless you have another idea up your sleeve?"

"Not an idea," Vergil replied, "but a suggestion. I think we should revisit the work sites we've just seen. More discreetly this time."

Nero frowned.

"Why? You pick up on something we missed?"

"Perhaps. A hunch. That thief stole goods, quite a lot of them, in fact. Yet there are work opportunities abound. Doesn't add up, does it?"

"No reason for him to steal," Nero said as he crossed his own arms, "when there's plenty a' ways to get some extra cash."

"Exactly. I believe there is more going on behind the scenes."

"Alright. Back the way we came then," Nero said as he glanced behind himself, spotting a few men in uniform patrolling the streets. "Think we should try to lose guards a bit more before we-"

The young hunter turned back to see that his father had already "tricked" out of the street.

"Jacka- I mean, you donkey!" Nero yelled.

His voice caught the attention of the soldiers, and the grey haired hunter quickly "tricked" out of the street.

—o0o—

"Ahh!" the hunter, who usually wore red, exclaimed as he dropped his spoon onto his plate.

"That definitely hit the spot," he said as Saito mimicked his actions.

"Agreed," said the young teen.

"Only one thing left to do," the older man said as he got to his feet. "Return these to the love of your life and ask her to marry you."

Saito began choking on air as soon as he heard those words.

"D-D-Dante-San!"

The man, who usually wore red, let out a small laugh and raised his right hand in surrender.

"Last one, I swear."

"Promise?"

"Yup," the hunter replied as he retreated through the wooden door. "Until tomorrow, that is."

"What?!" Saito cried out. The Japanese teen then got to his feet and followed the man inside.

"Dante-san!"

The old hunter let out a chuckle and walked down the short hallway, passing by the wide cafeteria doors. He gave a glance at the room but quickly turned and continued to walk down the hallway.

"Eh? Dante-san, where are you going?" Saito asked as he froze in front of the gateway to the dining hall.

"Going to use the back door to the kitchen," he said as he grabbed a small wooden door not too far away from the cafeteria, "don't want a repeat of last time after all."

Saito was shocked for a moment, but then nodded in confirmation. He jogged up to the older man, who waited for the teen before he opened the door.

They were greeted by a loud shriek that made them jump.

The two winced and glanced around the room, seeing several chiefs, butlers, and maids all frozen in place. They stared towards the front of the kitchen, where a servant with brown hair was covered in a green liquid.

"IS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE TEA?!" one of the students shouted.

The same first year student that had started down the old hunter stood behind the counter separating the kitchen and dining hall. His face was red with anger, and an empty cup turned sideways was dripping the same green liquid that was on the maid.

His two cohorts snickered behind him, and the maid shook as the student yelled at her.

"ANSWER ME! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN SERVE US YOUR BATH WATER WHEN I ASKED FOR TEA?!"

"I-I…"

"SPEAK UP YOU USELESS SWINE!"

"I-I…"

"I SAID SPEAK UP!"

The boy slammed his glass on the counter, rattling the girl who seemed to shrink in size. Her eyes were drawn to the floor, her head hung in shame, and her lips trembled.

The boy did not take this silence as an acceptable answer. His face twisted into blind fury and he raised a hand, ready to strike her.

"It was my fault," a voice interrupted.

The owner swiftly appeared before the nervous girl, a new cup of green tea in her hands, steaming softly.

"It was my fault, please accept this as an apology."

Siesta slid a cup to the student, her head bowed in servitude. The maid behind her let out a small breath, but her body still tenses with the presence of the furious teen.

The young mage eyed the cup before taking it. He slowly lifted it from its saucer and to his lips, tasting it with a gentle sip. He closed his eyes and swallowed. The whole cafeteria was silent with anticipation.

"It's excellent," the boy replied.

He then threw the tea right into Siesta's face.

"BUT DO YOU THINK THIS IS ENOUGH FOR ME TO FORGET HER DISERVICE?!"

Saito stepped forward, but Dante held the kid back. The Japanese teen gazed at the hunter with a questioning look. In reply he shook his head and tilted his chin towards some nearby towels. The teen let out a breath, and grabbed them, moving towards Siesta. Seeing that Saito would no longer cause an incident, Dante stepped forward to give a verbal defence to the young maid.

"Now that is highly improper," a voice interrupted.

Beating Dante to the scene was a bespectacled bald man with a brown horseshoe hairline. He wore a tracksuit like dark blue robe with white accents. It flowed to his feet, covering everything except for the tips of his brown boots.

"If you have any complaints, you can tell the school, young man, not punish the servants as you see fit."

"Tch," the boy mouthed and then stepped back, placing the teacup down before doing so. He glared at the man for a few seconds before turning around, his cohorts following him. Silence joined the group as they walked slowly and angrily towards the large wooden doors."

"Don't know why this school doesn't just put these stupid peasants in their place," the lead boy said as he grumbled beneath his breath, "the servants at our home wouldn't dare make this mistake. Not unless they want to incur the wrath of my father's magic," the boy said. He then stopped, and a wide but thin grin spread on his face.

"Good heavens," the bald man said with a sigh, "are you okay my dear?"

"Y-yes," Siesta replied. She then turned to her fellow worker, "are you alright?"

"Yes! Thank you Siesta."

"You're very welcome. If you have any other trouble, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Of course! Thank you so much."

Siesta smiled, and turned to the bald man.

"And thank you for standing up for us, Mr. Colbert."

"Think nothing of it. The headmaster wishes to treat you as of our own and I second his opinion greatly," he replied, "but your uniform…"

"It's fine I just need a towel- oh!"

The raven haired maid turned to come face to face with the much needed white cloth. Saito stood behind it, his left arm having a few more tucked underneath.

"O-oh thank you! I didn't quite see you there. Umm… Saito correct?"

"Hai, er… ano…" he began.

"He says 'yes'," Dante said as he finally joined the small group, "we came to return the dishes."

The man who usually wore red held out his arms, the two plates and spoons stack neatly on top of each other.

"Oh!" The raven haired maid exclaimed as she put down her wet towel, "I nearly forgot. Thank you."

"We are aware, because of the tea," Dante replied.

Siesta nodded with a solemn smile.

"Children with no manners," Colbert said, "they should be aware that in school grounds treating the commoners like this is forbidden."

Dante nodded.

"I think she said your name was Colbert, correct? I am Dante. It was nice of you to help out Siesta," the old hunter said as he extended out a hand.

"Indeed it is. Well met Ser Dante. You are one of the commoners Louise summoned, yes? It is good to meet you in person."

Colbert leaned over and grasped the old hunter's hand, giving a firm handshake.

"Siesta," the other maid called, "allow me to take your towel so we may clean up quickly."

"Oh, yes," the raven haired girl replied, "let's hurry and get these wash- AHHH!"

"GAHHH!"

The surprised shrieks of Saito and the kitchen staff drew the attention of all present. Their gazes flew to three figures covered in a white stew, with carrots, potatoes and broccoli sprinkled all over them. Saito tried to shake his hands clean of the food, while Siesta and the brown haired maid stared in a daze.

"What happened?" Colbert asked as he walked closer.

"Saito," Dante called out.

"T-the soup pot… it exploded!" Saito replied.

"What?" came the bald man's reply.

"He said the soup pot it com… ploded- it went 'kaboom'," Dante said as best he could, adding in a two armed hand gesture to accentuate the explosion.

"Kaboom?" Colbert said in mild surprise, before his eyes went wide. He swiftly turned to the door to see the back of the student he admonished fleeing into the hallway.

"The rascal! He used magic on the stove."

Dante and the others widened their eyes, and Colbert turned to them with a serious look.

"I am terribly sorry for his behavior. Excuse me while I reprimand him."

With that, the bald man sped off in pursuit of the young mage.

Dante turned his gaze to the three covered in perishables. The brunette maid was tearing up at the treatment, and Siesta and some of the other staff went to console her. Saito watched from a distance, unsure of what to do. The teen turned his gaze towards Dante, and the old hunter saw the look of helplessness in his eyes. The white haired man then gazed at the students still remaining, all giggling and mocking the staff.

The old hunter let out a sigh, one full of disapproval and disappointment.

—o0o—

"I told you to be here on time, do you see how late you are?!" A large tubby man shouted as he cracked the whip on the flesh of a barely clothed man.

"I-I am sorry sir, but I swear the time scheduled for delivery was fifteen minutes later than when I arrived, so I was actually quite early-"

"Shut up!"

CRACK!*

"AGghH! P-please sir… ha-have mercy- AH!"

"Be quiet! Why should I have mercy on a rat like you, when you kept me waiting for three minutes! THREE MINUTES! DO YOU KNOW HOW BUSY I AM?! I CANNOT WAIT ON YOUR EVERY WHIM, ESPECIALLY FOR SUCH AN IMPORTANT PARCEL, YOU IMBECILE!"

Another crack followed.

"Do you think it is fun to keep me waiting?! Do you enjoy me wasting my time here at YOUR beck and call? Hmm? Well, THIS-IS-WHAT-YOU-DESERVE!"

Five more cracks came crashing down with each of the five words he last spoke, each one leaving a deep red mark as the black leather greeted his body.

"You-stupid-piece-of-garbage! Your master should be ashamed! The fact that I have to waste time here disciplining you when I could be elsewhere… IT MAKES ME FURIOUS! FURIOUS!"

More lashes followed, and the man on the ground took them all. He no longer screamed, his voice died out seven lashes ago, and his body was not littered with blazing red markings. Blood began to seep as the whip bit away his flesh little by little. Dried saliva traced down his chin as the lashes came again and again.

The tubby man then glared at his pocket watch, teeth clenched. His face contorted into even more rage at the sight of it.

"Now look at what you've done. I am sixteen minutes late now because of you. Sixteen minutes! Spent educating trash like you!" he said with a kick, "you aren't even worth the time to look at, and yet here I am having to deal with your miserable mongrel hide! And now I am behind schedule!"

"Ah… uh, he-heh…"

A vein popped on the man's forehead.

"DO YOU THINK THIS FUNNY?!"

He raised his whip arm once more to seal a lashing, only for it to be held by another.

"That is quite enough, I believe."

"What?! Who are you?! You dare interrupt me?!"

The merchant freed his hand from the stranger's light grasp, and spun around. His gaze fell upon a man with white hair.

"Another commoner?" he said as he eyed the man's dress, "and you dared to touch me with your… disgusting hands!"

The tubby man began to feverishly wipe down his wrist, as though some disease were upon it.

"I can assure you that my hands are quite clean, unlike yours."

"Be quiet! I did not give you permission to speak, foul trash! Tch… 'clean hands' he says when he washes them in the manure trough of a pigsty! Who knows what disgusting germs you have on your miserable person."

Vergil's eyebrow twitched.

"I am still here."

"YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO SPEAK!" the tubby man yelled, "ARE ALL OF YOU RATS DEAF?! HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE AGAINST MINE! I SHOULD HAVE YOU ALL FLOGGED FOR INSOLENCE!"

He raised his whip to strike at the old hunter. The bound leather flew towards the old man, only to pass harmlessly by when the white haired man sidestepped the lash.

"What?" the tubby man asked as he stared, the old hunter moving so swiftly and gracefully that it looked as though Vergil had never moved.

He whipped his weapon around again, this time it dashed towards Vergil's head from his left. It once more flew past him, having taken one step back to avoid the blow. The tip of the whip barely grazed his eyebrows.

"How? Are you… dodging?"

"Only a fool would stand still when faced with such an attack."

Veins popped in the tubby man's forehead.

"You disgusting worm! Making me exert even more effort to educate you!"

The man tightened his grip on the whip and grit his teeth.

"Well I hope you are pleased with yourself, commoner, for I shall grant you your wish!"

He whipped the bound leather forward in a series of lashes, all of which narrowly passed by the man as he elegantly moved out of the way. One lash, however, managed to cut into the man's shirt, leaving a noticeable cut across it. The tubby man grinned.

"It seems you've run out of luck, peasant!"

Vergil looked down at his shirt. While the whip had missed his body, the bagginess of the clothing had meant the fabric moved after he did, something that irked him to no end.

"Tch, I am out of practice."

The tubby man took that moment to lash his whip at the old hunter, aiming straight for the man's face.

Without even sparing a glance, Vergil casually caught the whip with his left hand.

"What? How did you-"

The man never finished his thought as Vergil tugged on the whip, releasing the lash from the hand of the man. The old hunter then spun around, and hit the man with the hilt of his own weapon.

The tubby man recoiled from the hit, but his anger did not. With the lack of a suitable weapon, the man instead balled his fists, ready to rush at Vergil and punch him.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you."

The tubby man spun around at the sound of the new voice. Another younger man with white hair stood behind him, with his head tilted slightly and his arms folded across his chest.

"I see…" the tubby man said as he stared down the bloody messenger, "you secretly called your friends here, didn't you? You wished to publicly humiliate me once you could no longer stand the beating. Well, see if I ever ask for your services again, filth."

The man dropped a small bag of metal coins.

"Here. This is the last payment you will ever see from my hands. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"Considering how you treated him, I'm sure he will be grateful to never see your face again."

The tubby man sneered.

"He would be grateful for my lessons if he had any notion of intelligence. Not that you pigs would have any idea what that would mean."

The man then left. Wherever he went, the two hunters could not care less.

"Now that that is settled…"

"Alright," Nero said as he grabbed an arm of the messenger, "let's get you some treatment and-"

Nero was hastily thrown off, the messenger using his tattered elbow to strike at Nero.

"What are you doing?" Vergil asked as he stepped forward.

"What am I doing? I should have asked you what YOU are doing!" the messenger yelled, "do you know what you have done?! Do you!?"

Vergil narrowed his eyes. "I would assume that we spared you a beating and the patronage of a very bad customer."

"That is the problem!" the messenger shouted, "a very valuable customer is lost because of you!"

Vergil's eyes twitched as soon as he heard those words.

"Valuable? You consider whipping as a reward for excellent behavior 'valuable'?"

The messenger gripped Vergil's shirt, tugging the cut fabric.

"I would take a thousand beatings if it meant that I could have his patronage! He is one of the wealthiest men in the town! If he spreads words of my poor performance, no one would hire me! Then who will feed my family?!"

"So you wish to live as a mule?" Vergil said as he shoved the messenger off him. The injured man tumbled to the ground, his flayed body having lost much of its strength.

"At least a mule has food," he said as he spat out some of the dirt that got into his mouth.

"Unless you wish to hold me from another one of my deliveries, I will be leaving."

The messenger stumbled onto his feet, his many wounds seeping blood from torn skin, his appearance akin to the tattered pages in a worn out book.

"At the very least, allow us to take care of your injuries," Vergil said as he reached for his arm. The old hunter was taken aback when the messenger spun around and slashed with a hidden knife. The sharp steel missed the hunter completely, but nonetheless he was surprised that the wounded man actually had a means of self-defense.

"What are you doing? We are only trying to help."

"Help? You want to help? THEN STAY OUT OF MY WAY!"

"You expect to perform deliveries in such a frayed condition?"

"I cannot be late again! If I lose another customer then I may no longer have a business! They pay for precise deliveries, not late ones."

"Judging by your previous customer I tend to disagree. And do you not care about your own health? You cannot run in such a state, lest you bleed all over the street."

The messenger spat out some blood.

"A small price to pay as long as I can say the package was delivered. It would be worse if he had left and I had not been able to deliver it at all. As for my health, I could care less. As long as I am paid, then I am satisfied."

"Paid for with so little?" Vergil said as he picked up the small bag the tubby man had dropped. He spilled the contents into his hand, and a total of ten silver coins fell into it. He glanced down at the small amount of change, recognizing the miniature value of the minted coins.

"They do not even care enough to pay you a fair wage. Where I am from this would not even be equivalent to a single pound in one of the most developed countries, and the people there are paid twelve an hour!"

The messenger stifled a laugh.

"What is so funny?"

"No wonder you people are so nosy. You clearly do not understand how things work around here."

The messenger then spread his arms and gestures to the people around them.

"TAKE A GOOD LOOK! After everything that has happened, even with our argument, tell me, do any of these people seem to care?"

The old hunter turned his blue eyed gaze towards the people around them. Not a single one spared a glance towards them, all minding their own interests.

"Do you know who roams these streets? Nobles. Knights, Magicians, and Merchants. They are the ones with the money to freely walk along these streets. But us, commoners? WE have to beg and pray for a single coin for our family. They do not care what happens to us because they see us as beneath them. They only care about us when we affect them. One of us can lay dying in the street and as long as no one complains they will stay there while the flies and rats have their feast."

Vergil grit his teeth, holding in his anger as turned his gaze back to the messenger.

"Do you understand now? We are at the bottom of the chain. No matter what we do, the power is never in our hands. As long as we can scrounge enough coins to keep something in our stomachs, that's enough for us. The best we can do for each other is stay out of everyone else's way. So if you want to 'help,' then leave me alone."

With that, the messenger left. Nero strode forward to join his father, who translated the conversation to him. As they watched the flayed man run towards his next delivery, the two hunters began to ponder the world they had been brought into.

—o0o—

Louise took her seat among the windows in the front of the classroom. She sat far away from any of her other peers, who obliged the girl's self isolation. Ridicule and mockery had greeted her when she entered, and still continued to bombard her when she sat down. She shoved those voices to the back of her mind, paying no heed to their words. She did not need their input. She was a Zero and she knew that now, but far be it from herself to let the others get the better of her. She had something to prove to the old hunter and the headmaster, both of whom have given her a second and third lease on her life. She was unsure what she would do exactly, but she swore she would not let them down.

She let out a breath and placed her feathered quill and ink beside her as her mind was soon drawn to other was her third class of the day and she was beginning to feel a bit tired and peckish, her stomach tickling her mind as it grew a small longing for nourishment. Several balls of paper hit her head from behind, one after another, taking her mind off her gnawing stomach. She took in hand one of the many that landed on her desk, opening up to see that one of the students had written an attempt to coax her into suicide. She chuckled.

'How ironic,' she thought to herself.

She balled the paper once more and put it aside, just as Tabitha sat down beside her. The bespectacled girl eyed the wasteful balls, but quickly turned her attention to the novel she was reading, staying silent the entire time. At least there was one person who did not want to bother Louise.

The pink haired girl huffed just before the new hire, Mrs. Chevreuse entered. She was silently followed by Kirche, who snuck to her seat at the top desks, the eyes of several boys following the busty redhead's steps all the way.

A stack of papers in their teacher's hands were quickly identified as a pop quiz. Groans were ushered by several students. Even Tabitha let out a sigh as she placed her book away. The teacher sauntered over to the pinkette's desk, and noticed the wads of crumpled up paper that littered it.

"Louise, such a mess is unbecoming of a mage. Please leave such messes off your desk while in class," the professor instructed her.

"It's because she's not a mage, teacher, she's a Zero!" a student jeered from the background.

"Loser!" another said.

"Yeah, clean up your desk Louise, you pig!"

"Slob!"

"Shhhh!" came their teacher. "Quiet down all of you!"

Louise's eye twitched nonetheless as she processed all the insults, and swiftly cleaned off her desk before the teacher returned her attention to her.

"There we are. I'm not sure what you write on those, but keep your drawings or poetry for your private time, Louise."

Chevreuse then placed a copy of the quiz before the young mage, who glared at its complex symbols and equations. An alchemy quiz on the fundamentals they had covered during the last week it seems.

Louise peered at her seatmate from the corner of her eye, seeing Tabitha already hard at work to answer the questions.

She glanced at her own paper with tired and weary eyes. She grasped and dipped her quill in ink. After writing her name in the top right corner, she sighed, placing her free hand to her cheek as she stared down at the unanswered sheet below. Her mind drifted to the foreigners rather than the quiz, and she silently pondered what they were doing at this moment.

—End of Chapter 9—

AN: Sorry for the long wait! I had a lot to do, but I'll be uploading a total of 4 chapters to celebrate the Thanksgiving Holiday! Have you all got everything prepared for Turkey day? The second one will come later today, and the other two will be posted around Thanksgiving itself, depending on if I have a moment to upload them. Until then, keep maintaining that Smokin' Sexy Style y'all! Adios.