"My commission only requires that the concert proceeds smoothly. Also, a tasteless guy like you shouldn't loiter in the lobby and definitely don't offend the other Maestros. Find a room and stay there."
Having said that, Kokochi seemed to think of something pleasant and laughed to herself. She handed Putato a ring of engraved keys and turned to head up to the second floor.
Left alone, Sinclair was dressed in formal attire, yet he looked incredibly nervous, unsure of where to put his hands. Eventually, he could only tightly clutch the long nail that Putato had driven into his home.
"Hello, Vanda. I am Sinclair Emil Sinclair."
Putato gave a hesitant nod, not quite understanding why Sinclair was looking for him, or how he had ended up crossing paths with the Ring in the first place.
"Uh, you're looking for me?"
"Ah yes."
"If you have something to say, speak up. I have to head out for a bit."
"Well, thank you so much!"
Sinclair's face flushed as he bowed to the confused Putato.
"Sure, whatever."
It wasn't that Putato was cold or heartless; it was just that his motivation for killing Nagel und Hammer was to complete Kokochi's task. He wasn't so much Sinclair's savior as he was someone who had happened to pick Sinclair's enemies to be the "audience" of his score.
He sent a text to Katae saying he'd be there soon. Just as he was about to leave, he saw Sinclair muster his courage to approach and whisper.
"Actually, you are the Grey Haze yourself. Uh, I haven't mentioned a single word of this to anyone."
"On Christmas Eve, at my home I watched you return."
Sinclair tried his best to keep his voice down, clenching his fists to contain his excitement. He looked up to see Putato wearily pulling the Eye Wrap and bandages off his face.
"Aren't you afraid at all?"
"I am. But you are the only one I want to face with courage, even if I'm terrified. Even if you are the Star of the City that spreads fear."
"I'm saying, exposing my secret identity right to my face you really aren't afraid of dying, are you?"
A sharp blade silently appeared at Sinclair's throat. The terror of death made his body tremble slightly, yet he gritted his teeth and refused to falter.
"I'm sorry. After that night, Fixer Vanda my head has just been in a fog. I was thinking about your previous answer to my question, and wondered if I could ask for your guidance again."
"Just watch yourself. Don't ever mention that title again. Since I saved you, if I ended up killing you myself, wouldn't that be a total waste of my time?"
"I'm sorry. Truly, I am deeply sorry."
Retracting the Blood Sword, Putato felt that talking to this timid little guy was exhausting; the boy apologized so often it was almost too polite.
Though this personality was very unlike a person of The City, in Putato's book, the kid ranked higher than Brandon and was second only to Don Quixote (Sancho).
"If you have something to say, just ask. And stay away from the Ring in the future; that Kokochi is nothing but trouble."
"I want to ask for a way to control fear. Calw Town is still shrouded in haze, and those fanatics have declared they won't let things rest. This is all my fault."
"But every time I want to do something, I become terrified that my changes will only make things worse. I'm afraid that what happened that night will happen all over again."
"Just how can I command fear the way you do?"
Nonsense. I have a Death Tattoo, do you?
It's not like I can have Khaji whip one up for you too.
"Give me a coin."
Sinclair flusteredly pulled out his pouch. Inside lay two coins; one was covered in bloodstains. He hastily pulled out the other, clean coin.
These were the two coins that the Nagel und Hammer inquisitor, Kromer, had once given him. Even though she was dead, the shadow she cast and the coins still remained.
"Have you heard this before? The moment a person flips a coin, they've already made their choice in their heart."
"Now, if this coin lands on heads, I'll pin you to death right here."
Putato calmly held out both hands. Opposite him, Sinclair froze for a moment, but still respectfully handed over the coin and the long nail.
This kid is impossibly naive, handing over his own weapon to someone else like that.
SLAP!
The spinning coin was caught and slapped onto the back of Putato's left hand. To Sinclair's fearful and uneasy eyes, it showed tails.
"If you truly aren't sure whether to follow what's in your heart, just do as I do: let The City decide."
"That way, even if things go wrong, it's The City's fault."
SLAP!
Sinclair was dumbfounded to see it land on tails yet again.
SLAP!
Five consecutive tosses, and every single one predictably landed on tails. Even though Sinclair knew Putato was likely manipulating the coin, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
"As long as you act upon your true intentions without hesitation, you won't have to worry about the consequences of change anymore. The fear that comes with it will vanish."
"Perhaps but that is you. I I can't."
"What is it you want to do in Calw right now?"
"I think maybe protect everyone. After all, this is a disaster I brought upon them."
"Then put that desire on heads."
Putato forcefully snatched Sinclair's pouch, flipped the other coin to tails, and pressed it against the tails side of the coin in his hand. With immense strength, he crushed the two pieces of metal together, instantly forging a single, distorted, double-headed coin.
He tossed it casually, and Sinclair scrambled to catch it.
SLAP!
He lifted his right hand; in his left palm lay the blood-stained coin, resting silently with heads facing up.
"But like this it will be heads no matter what."
"No. If what you're thinking of is something you don't truly want to do, then this coin will definitely show tails."
"But everything I've said is built on the premise that once you flip that coin, you must follow through on the result. You must have the resolve to be as good as your word."
Staring at the coin in his hand, Sinclair nodded, only half-comprehending. He then gave the coin a tentative, careful toss. He checked the result with an expectant look, and seeing heads filled him with a wave of relief.
"Fixer Vanda I think, I think I'd like to invite you to my home for the next Christmas Eve."
"Of course. Do you have any other questions?"
"No, none at all!"
Sinclair gripped the double-headed coin, surging with excitement. Even his voice, usually so quiet, was uncharacteristically clear and ringing.
"Thank you. I won't disrupt your work any further."
After swapping contact info, Sinclair finally moved with a sense of purpose, turning to leave the Moon in Water exhibition hall.
Putato walked outside and leaned against the wall, watching Sinclair's lighthearted stride and smirking. He wasn't some psychiatrist who could solve the psychological mess of the people in The City; giving this kid a bit of confidence was the best he could do.
Once Sinclair's figure vanished around the street corner, Putato hailed a cab and headed straight for the orphanage.
[Katae: Brother, why are you livestreaming?]
[Yixin: Sigh, feeling bored now that the cooking competition is over. How about you, Honey? Free lately?]
The moment he saw Yixin's message, Putato's brow twitched. If that woman was bored, she'd surely come looking to cause him trouble, and excuses never worked on her anyway.
[Shamisen: Wiped out two hackers tracking our stream location today. Expecting more of this in the future. You need to upgrade my gear ASAP.]
[Brandon:
- Roland [500,000 Ahn]: Urban Girl, this drink tastes very familiar?
- Camille [100,000 Ahn]: Vanda, you traffic-stealing bastard!
- Palara [100,000 Ahn]: Depreciation Gang online, recycling all second-hand items at premium prices.
- Mirinae [1,000,000 Ahn]: I am the Director of Hana Association South Section 3. Do you truly know the whereabouts of the Grey Haze? How much Ahn?]
Looking at these comments, Putato immediately noticed Palara's ad. Since they were acquaintances, he didn't block him.
[Putato:
To Roland: This is the taste of The City.
To Mirinae: The City has its own reasons.]
A bit ironic, really. I am the goddamn Grey Haze, and you're asking me?
CLICK!
After greeting the two caregivers, Putato gathered his thoughts and opened Katae's door. He was met with a pitch-black room lit only by the computer monitor, its glow making Katae's weary face appear ghostly pale.
However, the moment he stepped inside, Katae saw the security feed and stood up in a joyful rush.
"Brother!"
"I missed you so much."
Dressed in light blue pajamas, Katae excitedly lunged into Putato's arms. The quiet, cool air of the room made Putato realize just how exhausted he was from a day of commissions; he felt like he could collapse and sleep right then and there.
"Did you check the new Regeneration Ampule I gave you? Can we upgrade the pneumatic syringe? I've started to miss that thing."
"Is it safe staying here? Void Fist has been seizing territory lately. You and the others shouldn't step out the door."
Putato let out a yawn as he curled up on the sofa. Katae clung to him, leaning against his back; she was light enough that it didn't bother him, feeling almost like he was raising a pet pigeon.
"Mhm."
The two didn't speak, letting the silence of the room stretch on.
"Brother, is Urban Girl you?"
"Uh, I play around with it occasionally. Mostly it's just my new recruit, Brandon, interacting with the viewers. We've made quite a bit in just a few days."
"A lot of people are interested in the Prescripts, but with Brother doing this, won't The Index come looking for trouble?"
"It's fine. I'm special."
Katae stood up slowly, picking up a photo frame from the desk next to the computer. It was a group photo Putato had brought back when he went with Stray Dogs to scavenge the Axe Gang's spoils; it showed a young girl standing behind a red-haired man.
Rolling over, Putato stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling.
"I've actually been meaning to ask I clearly wiped out your "brother", Oaks. Don't you mind at all?"
Setting the photo down, Katae sat back down beside Putato like a well-behaved quail.
"It was the Axe Gang who snatched my "brother" for those near-death experiments. But after he came back, he relied on his regenerative body to crush everyone else and become the boss."
"Aside from the debt collector, Brother could treat everyone else with a calm, friendly demeanor."
"From then on, he became a different person. Even though I was terrified of killing, he insisted on dragging me to witness Syndicate massacres and executions. I was hurt by dying victims so many times."
"I don't blame him, because he truly did protect me. But every time I wanted to talk to him, he'd cut me off and send me away. Whenever he spoke, it was only to order me to treat the wounded or stay by his side."
"My family took him in back then, but we couldn't protect him well. He both loved me and hated me. I couldn't change either of those things."
Katae leaned her head against Putato's chest.
"You killed my brother, so I should hate you. You protected me, so I suppose I should like you too."
"I think that's just how it is. Life is life."
She said it as if she hadn't said anything at all. In any case, Putato couldn't make heads or tails of it.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!
"Who is it?"
Putato carefully helped Katae up, unable to imagine who would be knocking. He opened the door to find a little sprout standing in front of him.
Olivia, wearing a burgundy bowtie, jumped up in surprise.
"Brother Putato! You really came?!"
"Please don't leave again, okay? I'll treat you to a feast!"
Bursting with energy, Olivia tugged at the hem of Putato's shirt, skipping in place. She reached out and offered three fruit candies, each printed with the likeness of Urban Girl.
Wait? Since when did I release merch?
Damn! Bootleggers already?!
"I've already eaten. How about this when I have time, I'll take you to the amusement park."
"Alright!"
After some fuss, Putato rushed back to the Moon in Water exhibition hall.
[Kokochi: Everyone has arrived. The gallery has been specially soundproofed and reinforced. You'd better make sure no one disrupts tonight. Leave on your own once Night in the Backstreets is over.]
This woman was actually quite meticulous, not letting Putato cross paths with those Ring Maestros. If someone paid too much attention and recognized Putato, it would be a mess to clean up.
Closing the gallery's main doors, Putato lay casually on the windowsill, pulling the heavy curtains shut. He pulled out his communicator to reply to stream comments to pass the time.
[Brandon:
- Nemo [100,000 Ahn]: What an excellent and creative livestream. Interested in a collaboration?
- Roland [100,000 Ahn]: There are so many concerts in The City and they're so hard to find. Can't you just tell me which one it is?
- Parkye [100,000 Ahn]: Is this stream supposed to be a Prescript? Fake.
- Lesti [220,000 Ahn]: Hey, hey, why does Urban Girl feel so familiar?]
Putato's gaze fell on Nemo's name. That was the representative of the Cane Office and a Grade 1 Fixer. He hadn't expected Urban Girl's popularity to rise so fast, reaching high-tier circles already.
He immediately scrolled through his private messages and was instantly dumbfounded. The 99+ chat notifications were a never-ending stream; he couldn't even see the bottom of the list. Clicking in, he saw that the vast majority were about Urban Girl listening to people's troubles and offering consolation.
Brandon was truly a godsend. Who else could handle 24-hour multi-threaded chatting like that? A good portion of this popularity was thanks to him.
[Putato:
To Nemo: Please listen to the will of the Prescript.
To Roland: This is the calamity of Distortion.
To Parkye: Prescripts only require execution.
To Lesti: The City is me. ]
THUD!
A slight bumping sound came from outside the curtains. Immediately, Putato could clearly perceive a slight change in the surrounding light.
Putato nervously tucked away his communicator, suspecting that Kokochi was hiding some vital information from him. He hurriedly and cautiously peeked outside.
The gallery's main doors were being slowly pushed open. After a moment, a slender man in a black suit sauntered in, wearing a black mask that obscured his features.
The newcomer walked into the center of the hall with his hands in his pockets, like a tourist admiring artwork, then looked toward the curtains where Putato was hiding.
"Ahem, sorry about this. Night in the Backstreets is almost here. Do you mind if I take shelter here for a bit?"
SWISH!
Suspiciously pulling back the curtain, Putato truly couldn't understand how this place had attracted Roland. He had thought the man would immediately prepare to move house after hearing what Urban Girl had to say.
"Who are you? Leave this place, quickly. I've accepted a commission. If the client finds you, I'll have worked for nothing."
"Aiya, isn't this a coincidence? We're colleagues! I can just hide in that spot you were in. I'm out on a commission too, just trying to save a bit on room fees, you know?"
Putato stared at Roland, somewhat speechless. Had this guy found this place because he was looking for the concert, or because he was looking for Urban Girl and found Putato himself?
"What's your name? Who are you looking for?"
"I don't quite understand what you mean. The Office didn't arrange a hotel for me this time, otherwise I wouldn't be sneaking into an exhibition hall this late. How about I give you some money and you just pretend you didn't see me?"
This guy was truly evasive; every word out of his mouth was nonsense.
"100,000 Ahn."
"You watch Urban Girl's stream too? Here, try this. Doesn't it taste just like the stuff from the vending machines? I suspect they just changed the label."
Putato listened to Roland's somewhat casual chatter as he caught the soda bottle thrown his way.
THUMP!
The immense force behind the bottle was easily dissipated by Putato. He was a man whose internal organs were etched with strengthening tattoos; without Workshop weapons, one couldn't even break his defense.
Even the other party's verbal probing was useless. After all, more than half of Putato's face was hidden by the Eye Wrap and bandages, making it impossible for even a master of micro-expressions to read his thoughts.
However, Roland approached with a sense of familiarity, spreading his hands to show he meant no harm.
"I heard Urban Girl is from around here. Do you know her? I'm a big fan, really want to meet her. I'll actually give you that 100,000 Ahn if you can make it happen."
Putato glanced at the Urban Girl branding on the drink in his hand. He understood now: his delivery person had been followed. This guy had come for an "offline" visit!
There was no avoiding it; in The City, earning fast money and big money inevitably came with risks.
But Putato wasn't panicking. If this guy actually dared to make a move here, he'd have the Ring's assassins to worry about, not Putato.
With that thought, Putato leaned casually against the wall and tilted his chin toward Roland.
"Do you know who I am?"
Roland shrugged.
"There are so many quiet, unknown Fixers like you and me. Just like you don't know who I am. I really envy those famous Color Fixers."
A Grade 1 Fixer still playing weak. That rank was already the pinnacle for a normal Fixer someone who could single-handedly take down an Urban Nightmare tier Syndicate like the Smiling Faces.
Putato could only be glad his promotions had been fast. He was no longer a helpless intern Fixer; otherwise, he wouldn't even have the confidence to speak.
"In that case, you should leave before Night in the Backstreets begins. I can't disclose information about the client, but a Fixer of your caliber will likely lose his life afterward."
"If you don't heed my warning, I'll have to fight you for the sake of the commission. You understand, right? Business is business."
The previously harmonious atmosphere vanished, replaced by sudden tension.