Joyeuse.

17. August.
Tuesday, 7:00 pm.
372A High Street.

IT IS A LAW OF NATURE that men perform their covenants made (Hobbes, 1651).

CONTRACT: what men call the mutual transferring of right. All involved and bound contractors are obliged to perform their part, in perfect trust, lest the contract be put in vain and but empty words.

And by human nature, empty words consequent to violation of faith, which consequent—if not equate—to injustice.

— rephrased from Leviathan

If contracts are made in the essence of mutualism, then, in perfect trust, one must give in order to gain.

CAUSALITY: efficacy or causation; where responsibility lies in the roots of contributing to an existence made. One may or may not be aware of the contribution. Therefore, id est, as in Incompatibilism, there is no such thing as free will.

NICHOLAS JAMES: a banjaxed nutter. Has made my life miserable since grade school. His knowledge of Edward Dace and the initiative leads to a theory that he is connected to the initiative. What are his connections to the stakeholders of the initiative?

Why is he contacting Lance? Does Lance know him?

Premises:

1. Lance has contacts with Nicholas James.
2. Nicholas James knows the initiative.
3. Lance wanted us to sign the contract.
4. Nicholas James wanted us to sign the contract.

Inference:

Lance could be working with Nicholas James, for us to sign the contract. If we sign the contract, then we are obliged to perform our part and do what the stakeholders want us to do. With causation in mind, the stakeholders could be fooling us, with the façade of free will, into doing what they desire.

THE STAKEHOLDERS: who are they and what do they want?

"Joyeuse?"

THE INITIATIVE: could it be a trap? Are we walking into a trap?

"Drama queen, oi!"

SNAP!

REALITY.

Edward Dace's dormitory, 372A High Street. We were eating a low-cost, student-budget Filipino dish at a picnic blanket on the floor. Edward Dace, Laevateinn, and "Futhark" stared.

"Nasa mga tala ka na naman ba, drama queen?" Edward Dace mocked.

"Natulala ka na sa kape mo," Futhark said, in his tone an ample supply of worry. "Ano na 'yung sinasabi mo?"

What was I telling them?

Coffee. Initiative. Nicholas James. Lance. Contract-signing.

"As I was saying," I cleared my throat, "the contract and the entire initiative could be a trap that could potentially destroy our lives later on."

"Because Nicholas James?" Edward Dace clarified, catching on.

I nodded. "Deciding recklessly is now dangerous. With Nicholas James in the chessboard, volition is never ours." I sipped coffee. It was cold.

"Pero sabi mo pinagkakatiwalaan mo si Sir Lance," Futhark said.

"Lance knows how much I despise Nicholas James so I doubt..."

Futhark sighed. "Kanina mo pa hindi naitutuloy ʼyang "I doubt" mo. Ano bang pinag-aalinlangan mo?"

"The fact that I said I doubt. I don't doubt Lance. I haven't, in nine years. And now I want to know why Nicholas James is calling him."

"If you're not sure, you can always ask," Edward Dace said, with clear absent-mindedness.

"Curiosity is a sign of awareness, Edward Dace," I told him. "And awareness is suspicious. A covert investigation is most appropriate for this matter."

"Zweihänder said Sir Lance is a good dude, and we heard what Sir Lance said earlier. If you think something's not right, you shouldn't stop until you've learnt what's true."

"And I think you should be sincere," Futhark ventured. "Kung pinagkakatiwalaan mo si Sir Lance then what's wrong with asking him sincerely and being true?"

Futhark's moral compass: disturbingly annoying.

"Oh, why didn't I think of that?" I replied. "What's wrong with destroying all my walls, anyway?"

Futhark frowned. "Being sincere is not a weakness."

Futhark: disturbingly annoying.

I stood. "Tomorrow, we go out and investigate."

"I thought you said you're going to attend all of your classes?" Edward Dace asked. "That means you need to get up early, since you have 7 am classes with Sir Lukas."

I sipped coffee. Still cold. "Meh, I come and go as I please."

"Are you a bloody outdoor cat?"

"Sir Lukas," Futhark repeated, as if he just remembered something. "Sabi kanina ni Sir Lance umuwi na si Sir Lukas pero nakita namin sʼya kanina ni Kuya Zweihänder!"

Lance gave us the wrong information. But why?

- Did he lie about Lukas's whereabouts?
- Was it a deliberate lie or simply a mistake?

If I recall correctly: Lance replied in a flat tone, whilst checking his phone.

The flat tone was for us to avoid analysing his tone and pitch; the phone was a diversion so he wouldn't meet our eyes.

Lance lied to us. But why?

- Why lie about Lukas's whereabouts?
- Who is Lukas and what is their connection?

"Is that another red flag?"

MENTAL NOTE: How to interrogate Lance without him getting suspicious and/or mad. Maybe I should investigate Nicholas James first. Where is he living now and what is he doing in San Lorenzo? Did he come to San Lorenzo to ruin my life?

"Drama queen, anong gagawin natin?"

Let these questions sit for now, Jule.

REALITY.

"We'll investigate further," I told Edward. "See you at Lukas's class tomorrow."

"What about Noel?" Edward asked.

PRIORITY: Knowing the truth about the initiative. Definitely not Noel.

Stall Edward Dace.

"If we were quite backed up, then helping Noel would be easier."

Edward Dace expressed a positive emotion. "Right! So dude, sinong back up natin? Si Sir Lance pa rin, right? I mean... He's our smartass adviser, right?"

Edward Dace: too trusting.

"Futhark, what do you think?" Edward asked.

I spared Futhark a glance. He was busy with his phone. Was he texting someone? He looked up and pursed his lips, uttering a short sound like, "Hm?" He blinked thrice before he got back in the now. "Ah. Doon pa din ako sa tingin ko dapat kausapin ni Joyeuse si Sir Lance nang masinsinan. Kasi kung tiwalang-tiwala ka kay Sir Lance tapos..."

Futhark: talks too much; tone is garrulous.

"...biglang may hindi kayo pagkakaunawaan, mas mabuti nang kausapin mo s'ya. That way you can also assess him, unless..."

Futhark: his eyes meet mine but are not focused.

He is an expert in making pieces of advice on the spot.

His specialty as a Psychology student?

Is Cognitive Dissonance involved?

"...i-evade n'ya ang mga tanong mo on the spot. Pero kung—"

"Shut up," I told him. "Let's do what you said."

Futhark inhaled sharply. "Gusto ko lang naman na—wait, gagawin natin ang sinabi ko?"

I stared.

Ignore Futhark.

I edged closer the door, and took my phone out. "I'm sending Lance coordinates for a rendezvous," I told them. Futhark nodded slowly, Edward Dace chuckled sardonically—because of what, I didn't have time and interests to figure out. My hand froze mid-air as I read:

1 Unread Message from Casey

I pressed my lips together.

What could this message be? Why did she text me for? Should I read this now?

"Anong problema, Joyeuse?" asked Futhark.

Edward Dace was quick to take a stealthy look at my phone. Privacy? Edward Dace knows no such respect. "Casey?" he asked. "Duuude. Basahin mo na. Baka may update s'ya kay pareng Noel."

I raised my phone just above my shoulder. The height level was adequate to deny Edward Dace of his chance to peep, as I was firm about keeping things to my own.

"Dude, anong sabi ni D.I. of Hotness?" Edward Dace bothered.

I raised a hand. "She said it's none of your business."

Edward Dace frowned sceptically. I ignored his feelings and silently read Casey's message:

Dinner at Pays Des Merveilles. We need to talk.

"I just ate dinner," I said to myself, rather aloud since I was nigh in arriving in a state of bristling. The we need to talk was... enticing.

I turned to Futhark and Edward (Laevateinn sat on the windowsill, feet dangling outside, waving at someone) and told them, "I need to go. See you at Lukas's class tomorrow."

"Wait, saan ang classroom mo?" asked Edward.

"You're going to be a detective. At least figure it out."

"Saan ka pupunta?" bothered Futhark.

"A restaurant."

I noticed Edward Dace perked up, like that of a dog, with the ears and the glimmering of the eyes. "Dinner date!"

Edward Dace: Captain Obvious, but so-so in observing.

He saw a text from Casey, then I muttered 'dinner', and then I bid farewell to go to a restaurant.

Put all that together. Dinner.

Whatever.

"It's not a dinner date, Edward Dace," I said. "It's work-related. Cassandra wants to talk."

Edward Dace broke into a sly, sly grin. "Well maybe Cassandra invited you for something work-related, but you're not fooling anyone with that sudden rise of pitch in your voice, drama queen. Feelingero ka rin palang gago ka?"

Edward Dace: Keen observer. Would be useful.

I smirked at him. "At least I was invited. Good bye and good night."

The remark left him enraged, but the scrawny little man held himself together better this time than before. There were no violent reactions except for an ugly scowl and a fist clench. I liked that.

I made my way through the door, sensed that Futhark wanted to say a word, and shut the door at his face right on time. I thought as I walked.

Why would I bother listening to him further?

WE NEED TO TALK: something I haven't heard from Casey for quite an amount of time. The last time I've heard 'we need to talk' from her, it was followed with 'we need to break up'.

"This will never work."

"Not with you."

"I don't think you're one to keep a serious relationship."

STOP.

SNAP BACK TO REALITY.

I was in front of 304B's door. So was Lance. He leaned on the door, arms crossed, and eyes directed towards me. He pulled himself away from the door and exhaled loudly.

He has been waiting for a few minutes.

I turned the knob. "You could've sent a message," I said and went in, keeping it cool despite the unexpected visit.

Lance didn't follow inside. He stood by the doorway and watched. "Cassandra already did."

The invitation was not exclusive.

I grabbed a black cardigan to put on top of my navy shirt. "For what matter?" I might as well ask, "And who else were invited?"

"For leaving your requested adviser in a police station—I'd say, but that doesn't matter to you, does it?—and for telling you something about the initiative. It's just the three of us: me, you, and Cassandra."

"What about the others involved in the initiative? Gomez, Dace, and... the other one?"

Lance slipped his hands inside his trouser's pockets. Keys jangled underneath the black woven wool cloth. "You had a penchant for feeling important. I wouldn't deny you of such opportunity."

Lance Ducere: has a hidden agenda.

I grinned ruefully. Questions piled up at the back of my mind. I shook them off.

Lance smirked, accompanied by a slight chuckle. "I'll wait for you at the parking lot. My car is a black Land Cruiser. I'm sure you'll notice it."

"Because it's the only car suspiciously parked there?"

"No, because I'll be standing beside it." He clicked his tongue, grinned in jest, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

How much can two years change a person?

17. August.
Tuesday, 7:45 pm.
Pays Des Merveilles.

PAINTING WHAT YOU COULD SEE, in its most charming, most endearing form you could possibly imagine, does not change what you perceive, and what others perceive. The senses never lie, and perception is a thin line drawn near deception.

Cassandra wore a white tunic blouse, denim jeans, and black velvet heeled sandals. Given, she's Cassandra Aragon, brilliant mind, good detective...

Good detective.

That's all I got on her.

"I could hear numbers and words flying around your bubble, Jule," said Cassandra, dryly. She crossed her arms, not placing her hands on the table (etiquette), and smiled humourlessly. "I'm in my casual attire, I just finished my shift. Pinag-aaralan mo pa ba kung anong klaseng tela ang suot ko? Kung saan ako galing? Kung anong iniisip ko ngayon?"

"Good evening to you, too," I replied, eyebrows knitted tightly together. She scoffed and looked away in disbelief.

PAYS DE MERVEILLES: a quaint bistro located in San Lorenzo, a few minutes drive from Coronado. Their tables were made of wood, covered in silk, and decorated with violet, lavender-scented candles. Chairs—wooden, varnished, no cushions. Lights were incandescent, hanging from the ceiling. This place was a teenage girl's Parisian dreamscape.

PRICE RANGE: I'll be having just one beer, then.

Lance, who's sat beside me, was strangely engrossed with the menu. His nose was buried in it, so he hasn't said anything for the past few minutes. He's secretly texting on his phone.

More tensed moments later, and we gave our orders to a staff passing by. Both adults—Cassandra and Lance—weren't happy with my order so I threw in some chips. And then to business.

"Your agenda was the infamous 'we need to talk'," I told them, breaking the silence. Cassandra was already staring, albeit secretly. Lance took a moment to get off his "menu".

"We are going to talk about Nicholas James," said Lance, his attention undivided in no time. "We need to discuss what could possibly happen, now that I can't keep him away from you anymore."

"Yes, why was he calling you again?" I raised a brow.

"I have no idea, I never answer. Check my phone's call log."

"That'll be useless. Besides, you could've deleted it. Like how you lied about the professor Lukas not being in Coronado, when he was there all along. Futhark and Zweihänder saw him. Or was it a mistake? A mistake you of all people would commit?"

"You're right, I lied about him." Lance leaned closer, hence the sudden tension and seriousness in the atmosphere. "You know why I lied about Arthur Lukas?"

"His first name is Arthur? Like the Arthur who called you right after Nicholas James?"

Lance slightly nodded. "Yes. He knew where Nicholas James was. I didn't tell you because I asked him to keep Nicholas away from you. What would Gomez and Dace do?"

"Remember the last time you met?" Cassandra ran her fingers along her plate's edge. "If I wasn't there, you would've stabbed him with a fork."

Lance added, "There's a marble snake statue in Arthur's office, I was worried that if Jule saw Nicholas there, he'd smash that on his head."

"I met Nicholas James earlier," I informed them. "I walked away... with Gomez and Dace."

They were clearly impressed and surprised. Cassandra's face showed approval. "How much can two years change a person? You walked away? Did you ask Dace to kick Nicholas for you?"

"No." That reminded me, "But Laevateinn threw an apple at his face."

"That doesn't surprise me at all." Lance made eye contact with Cassandra, which was obviously a signal, as Cassandra opened up a new topic:

"We need to talk about the conditions you gave Lance for the initiative."

I nodded.

"The first one was about having access to police case files. Obviously, hindi kita pwedeng pagbigyan doon. Not until your fourth year in the curriculum."

"That's bad news, but I can wait."

Hopefully.

"I talked to the university president about the discounts in your tuition fees," said Lance, "and he agreed to a 50%. He added Wi-Fi and library privileges."

"Good news." My gaze drifted and was taken up by the burning candle.

"Nakikita kitang nagko-compute sa utak mo," Cassandra accused and chuckled, suppressing a wide smile.

"It's called thinking and I do it a lot more often than an average human person."

I'm not even thinking of anything right now.

"And then for your third condition," Lance took a deep breath, "I'm sorry but I'll have to ask you some questions first."

"You don't really want to be our adviser, do you?"

"College students don't have advisers. But that's not my question." The lines on his forehead sunk deeper. "I have absolutely zero ideas why you'd ask specifically for me to be your adviser. I thought we agreed to stay away from each other as far as we could? I pretended not to know you last Friday. You know how blissful that was?"

Cassandra's jaw dropped for a split second before she taunted once again, "You told Lance the same thing?"

"I wanted to cut connections with everyone," I replied sternly. "But with this initiative, meeting the both of you is inevitable. It's brought our paths together again, and we could only cross it in a professional manner."

"I moved on, so I'm not bothered at all," Cassandra gloated. "You're the one who kept my number and texted me yesterday."

"I didn't save your number in the first place, there's nothing to brag about."

"How did you know my number?"

"Your contact details are on the internet. It's like you're begging for someone to contact you." I shook my head and focused on the lesser annoying person at the table. "Lance, you know I'm part of the initiative. Why are you the one handling this case?"

"I had to, I'm a stakeholder and I'm in charge." Lance leant back.

Keyword: stakeholders.

"You had other stakeholders with you. Why didn't you let them do it?"

"Puti na ang mga buhok ni Dr. Memoria. Sa kalokohan n'yong apat, I don't think she'll last a day. And aside from that, I was asked. I can't refuse."

"You? Can't refuse? You refused to a man before and that ended his career. I am curious about what made a Lance Ducere unable to refuse."

"I can't refuse Arthur. He's one of the stakeholders and he asked me to manage you boys."

"That Arthur is with Nicholas James, he's manipulating you." I paused briefly. "This entire initiative is a trap, innit?"

"Arthur is not manipulating me."

"Is it blackmail?"

"Oh." Cassandra quirked her brows, then smiled.

I glimpsed suspiciously at Cassandra.

"If Nicholas James knows this initiative then tell me who I need to be wary of. I want to be prepared for everything," I said. "So the stakeholders: Dr. Memoria, Arthur Lukas—"

Lance shook his head. "Cross Arthur out. We're dating, you don't need to be wary of him."

Cassandra and I were, simply, flummoxed. My jaw dropped and I cringed. Cassandra regarded the revelation as sweet and endearing, she aww'd and clasped her hands, placing them on her chest.

She expressed a very affectionate, "That's cute, ilang months na kayo?" Like a high school girl.

"That's disgusting." I grimaced. "I was quite sure you'd never find love, you don't have feelings."

"Perhaps your "detective senses" have failed you because you lack empathy." Lance then turned to Cassandra, "Much, much longer than any of Jule's "girlfriends"."

"You have become disappointing," I said.

"Happier," he corrected with a fond smirk.

I muttered, "I just want my beer."

There was a static, followed by radio chatter. Cassandra brought her police radio. Lance and I watched her converse with the officer on the other line. When it ended, Cassandra had to excuse herself from the dinner.

"I need to go to Tamarisk Street. Natunugan ng dealer 'yung bust na gagawin at—" she cut herself. "Bakit ko ba sinasabi sa inyo? Sorry, it was out of habit—"

I completely ignored the fact that she knew she shouldn't be telling us anything about a police's drugs bust, and asked in a very low voice, "When did you get the tip about the deal?"

She ignored it as well. "Last Friday."

"Was it a syndicate?"

"Yes, intel said it could be connected to foreign druglords."

I leant closer. "Are they... perhaps, South American?"

Lance caught on. "It was the librarian, isn't it?"

I nodded. "I suspected she joined a syndicate around the area, one that has eyes near or inside the uni. The murder of Caperna? It was her ticket in. She failed, thus the suicide."

"What do you think is her connection with this bust?" Cassandra asked.

I stood beside Cassandra. "I can't be sure, let's go to Tamarisk. Lance, drive us there."

Lance spared a few seconds to stare. "You are talking to a detective inspector and a professor. At least show some respect."

I glanced at my watch but only as a gesture. "You should've kept your uniforms for that, then. Chop-chop, Lance."

17. August.
Tuesday, 8:25 pm.
Tamarisk Street.
Lance's Land Cruiser.

SITUATION: Cassandra had her men disguised and the area surrounded. The three of us stayed inside Lance's car, observing the street for any suspicious movement. The skies were dark, the street was calm and peaceful.

Possible causes for the bust to fail:

1. The dealer was informed about the police.
2. There was a mole in the police department Cassandra didn't know about.
3. There was an unrelated inconvenience on the part of the dealer, resulting to cancellation.

THE DEALER: must be able to access Tamarisk Street without being suspicious, but just enough to be able to blend in. That crosses out all people who lived here. Or not, I'll let this sit.

A drug den?

A drug den near a university would be too dangerous for a syndicate.

What are the possible—

"Casey, is the dealer male or female?" I asked, barely snapping out of my thinking bubble.

"Cassandra left minutes ago," replied Lance. "You didn't notice?"

REALITY.

I blinked at Lance, who was at the driver's seat. He had his phone to his ear. Cassandra was not beside him. I looked around. This wasn't where we're parked earlier.

Mental Note: Try not to let your vision go blurry when thinking, Jule Lewis. You have recovered enough after getting shot, you can't be a wuss.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"In front of Arthur's residence. Still Tamarisk Street."

"Why are we here? Are we playing sentries? If yes, I'm leaving."

Lance expressed disappointment. Did I care? No. I opened my door.

"Look," warned Lance. "Cassandra told you to lay off the case because it was dangerous. You weren't responding so she assumed you're mad and left."

"She left just like that?"

"She's a police officer. She can handle herself. You're the one who needs to be careful."

"Why, will there be a shoot out?" I raised a brow. "No, there will be no shoot outs because there's no one to shoot—"

No one to shoot.

What if there's no one to deal the drugs, that's why it was cancelled?

- Bautista, the librarian, was to join the syndicate. Friday.
- The contact was made last Friday.
- Bautista failed and committed suicide.

"Jule."

These could be coincidences but I should list out my theories now, to know which one to prioritise in investigating.

"Jule, listen."

BAUTISTA LEAD, THEORY #1: Bautista was supposed to be the one doing the deal today. She can be unnoticed, because of her social status. The poison she murdered Caperna with could be bought using a loan from the syndicate, which will be paid with the drug money and her—

SNAP!

REALITY.

Lance flicked his fingers at my forehead. He looked rather serious.

"Did Bautista have a wake?" I asked him. Surely, other members of the syndicate will visit her and I need to observe the place.

"Don't space out in a dangerous place," he said. It wasn't the answer I was looking for.

"No, I asked if she had a wake."

"Go back to your dorm," he dismissed.

Yes. Dormitory. 372A High Street.

Edward Dace.

17. August.
Tuesday, 8:30 pm.
Monkshood Street.
A few blocks away from Tamarisk.

I CALLED EDWARD DACE. I figured he'd have his phone with him at all times, so I wasn't disappointed. He answered right away.

"Hello, Edward," I started, "can you please run a quick "check" on HR's database for Bautista's address?"

Edward Dace replied, "Bautista?"

"The librarian who committed a murder-sui last Friday."

"Anong balak mo, dude? Pinatatanong ni Madam Rosa, a.k.a. Futhark."

"I want to pay her family a visit."

"Searching for it ATM. Musta dinner date with D.I. of Hotness?"

"It went well, she specifically asked for you to stop with the nicknames because they're all horrible."

"Joyeuse, sigurado ka bang wala kang gagawing delikado?" Futhark presumably snatched the phone from Edward. "At 'wag kang magsisinungaling sa 'kin dahil malalaman ko kung nagsisinungaling ka o hindi."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Futhark."

There was a brief pause on the other line, followed by an exasperated sigh. "Okay. Sige. Ite-text daw sa 'yo ni Edward 'yung address. Mag-iingat ka."

I hanged up.

I'm not going to do anything stupid, Futhark.

I'm going to do something genius.

••• GODSFORRENT •••

WAKE: a gathering done before the funeral. I prefer these over a birthday party, because coffee is free and you don't have to pretend to be exaggeratedly happy for somebody you don't care about.

BAUTISTA'S WAKE: simple, not too crowded. It was a typical Filipino wake, done at Bautista's home. A tent was constructed in front of the house, where people gathered and drank liquor... or coffee... and talked about personal matters.

Now the question. If I were a higher up in a syndicate, and a member has allegedly taken her life after failing her initiation, would I pay her a visit to make sure or not?

"I can't see the coffin from here," I muttered and walked closer the tent.

Did the syndicate need a body part to make sure? An eyeball for her identity?

"Hijo, bibisita ka ba kay Glenda?"

Whatever I was thinking was interrupted by this thin old woman wearing a loose duster dress. Her eyes were deep, almost sunken. Hair, grey. Posture, terrible. She's smiling, though.

"Yes, she's one of the librarians I was very fond of," I replied.

She slowly nodded. I suspected she barely understood me. "Ilista mo ang pangalan mo rito, hane?" She handed a hardbound, turquoise visitors' book.

"No, I was just—" I noticed the names. "Actually, maari po bang makahiram ng isang panulat?"

She smiled again, gave me a pen, and left to accommodate new visitors. That gave me time to study the names. There weren't a lot, as the list started last Sunday. I need the list to ID these people, especially those who came in on Monday, so I tore a page and slipped it in my pocket.

Oh, right.

"They need a name, don't they?" I murmured, writing 'Kiel Gomez' on the list. I smirked contentedly.

"Huling araw na raw ng lamay."

"Punta tayo ng Tamarisk pagkatapos dito, tapos deretso na sa Cypress Street."

I quickly scanned the area for the owners of the voices. What were their business in Tamarisk Street? Were they the ones tasked to check on Bautista? Were they part of the syndicate? Who were they?

Two tall men wearing denim jackets were at my four o'clock.
Creases on their pants. Travelled for a few hours.
No bags. Didn't talk with anyone in the wake. They weren't from here.
Far relatives? Grandma must've recognised them then.
Accessory. One had an expensive-looking watch. Didn't match the outfit.

I need to follow them to investigate further.

"Joyeuse!" called Futhark, from quite a distance. He waved his hand.

Most of the visitor glanced at him, then at me. I averted my gaze from the two denim men and hastily approached Futhark. I dragged him by the collar, away from the area, pronto. I stopped two blocks away, when I was sure nobody from the wake can hear or see us.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, my grip of his collars tightening.

Edward Dace and Laevateinn appeared behind me. Edward Dace said, "Dude, madrasta ka ba ni Futhark para kaladkarin s'ya?"

"I asked," I enunciated clearer, "what are you doing here?"

Edward stepped between Futhark and me. His tone showed hints of pacification. "Futhark's motherly instincts kicked in and he insisted we follow you—"

"Instincts? I could've been caught by the people I suspect are members of a syndicate!" My voice was low despite the anger. I had to keep it quiet. "We already looked like idiots in the Bastardo case. Don't ruin this one for me."

"You're investigating a syndicate?" asked Edward Dace. "Like, the syndicate you said Bautista joined? So she actually joined one?"

I nodded. "And it could be connected to the failed drugs bust in Tamarisk Street."

"Dude, dude, sabihin mo sa pulis."

"The police assumed I was mad and left."

"Not surprised, isa kang malaking bola ng sama ng loob."

Futhark had to quickly intervene in the brewing dispute. "Kung tingin mo sila 'yung sindikato, anong balak mong gawin ngayon, Joyeuse?"

I took out the page I tore from the guest book. "I need to ID these people. Edward Dace, can you do this?"

Edward shrugged. "I need my main laptop for that. 372A."

"Pinilas mo 'yan doon sa libro sa lamay?!" gasped Futhark.

Ignore Futhark.

"Let's go to 372A, then."

••• GODSFORRENT •••

"MOST OF THESE PEOPLE are from the uni," Edward Dace filled in. "Work acquaintances, colleagues, some relatives. Then the oddest visitors are Jude Diaz, a police officer; Mark Pajanel and Tristan Ramos, both civilians with no prominent connections with someone from the inside. I suspected they came for the free food."

Futhark paced the room. It left me no floor to pace on and think in properly. I had to quietly sit down on Dace's bed and let myself be distracted by Futhark's stupid anxiety.

"Nasaan si Laevateinn? Nakalimutan ba natin s'ya?" asked Futhark, finally.

"I made him stay in the wake, in case of suspicious people or movement," I answered. My arms were crossed.

"WHAT?!" Futhark snapped. "Alam mong may sindikato doon—(Edward: roon)—at pinagbantay mo pa si Laevateinn?"

"Well, I could've called the police but—"

Police.

Jude Diaz, the police officer.

Why would a police officer visit the wake?

Was he the one assigned to the case?

Was he also assigned to the buy-bust operation?

Was he the one who made contact with the dealer?

I need to ask Casey about Jude Diaz.

JUDE DIAZ, THEORY #1: is a member of the syndicate.

But why would a member of the same syndicate continue a drug deal knowing that it is a buy-bust operation?

It was a bait. A distraction from the real drug deal.

The Tamarisk Street sting is a misdirection whilst the real one is happening in...

STORED INFO, OVERHEARD SENTENCE: "Punta tayo ng Tamarisk pagkatapos dito, tapos deretso na sa Cypress Street."

"They are in Cypress Street, " I muttered. I groped my pockets for my phone. I need to alert Casey.

"The police are in Cypress Street?" asked Edward Dace.

REALITY.

Edward Dace and Futhark stared at me, which I found them doing quite so recently. I cleared my throat. I wandered off again.

"Dude, nasa mga tala ka na naman ba? Balik na rito sa lupa," teased Edward Dace. I didn't let myself be swayed by that.

"Anong meron sa Cypress Street?" asked Futhark. Why was his face always creased into this annoying expression of worry?

"We need to go back to Laevateinn," I said, burying whatever concern Futhark had with the urgency of getting back to Laevateinn.

17. August.
Tuesday, 9:00 pm.
A few blocks away from Bautista's Wake.

LAEVATEINN WAS NOT WHERE WE LEFT HIM. Futhark was freaking out.

"Iniwan na natin si Laevateinn sa bahay ng isang mamamatay-tao kahapon tapos ngayon, iniwan mo s'ya para magbantay ng mga hinihinala mong sindikato?"

How do I turn Futhark's mouth off?

- Gag him.
- Kill him.
- Reassure him.
- Make Edward Dace talk to him so they'll both be distracted.

"Dude, baka naman umuwi na si Laevateinn?" Edward Dace told Futhark. Brilliant, Edward Dace. "Imposible naman na makinig talaga s'ya sa inuutos ni drama queen, right?"

"Kahapon, hindi umalis si Laevateinn doon sa bahay ni Sir Bascardo. Nag-volunteer s'ya na maiwan at tumupad s'ya sa sinabi n'ya. Masunurin ang batang 'yon."

"The "child" that you're talking about is a 5'11" German dude who could've killed a person with a feather before! And he..." Edward Dace trailed off. It has appeared that he was distracted by something, therefore I followed his gaze.

A few metres away is a jet black wolfdog standing almost four feet tall. Its fangs were bared, and its golden eyes menaced us under the moonlight. It was prepared to lunge at us, in any given moment. Edward Dace froze on the spot. Futhark had a tree branch picked up, and he gave the impression of being ready to fight.

It wasn't his first street dog rodeo.

"Don't do anything rash, Edward Dace," I said in a calm manner. "Just slowly back off. Back off and hide behind Futhark, alright, don't panic—"

"K-Kaninong aso ba 'yan?" Edward Dace stammered, his legs barely moving away from the wolfdog.

The wolfdog slowly trotted closer to them.

"B-Bakit parang mas malaki pa kay Edward ang kabayo na 'yan...?" Futhark dropped his tree branch, grabbing Edward's shirt and hauling the latter towards him.

"It's a fucking dog, Futhark!" spluttered Edward Dace. "Ich hasse Hunde!"

The German was appropriate for the panic, anger, and whatever emotion Edward Dace wanted to convey.

The wolfdog howled.

"Takbo, Ed!" Futhark shrieked and darted across the street. He dragged Edward with him, who barely kept up.

It left me no choice but to follow them, since the wolfdog took notice. Last I've seen was it tensing all muscles. I didn't even consider pacing myself, I ran like I've never done in years.

••• GODSFORRENT •••

WE STOPPED RUNNING when we reached a seemingly abandoned warehouse south of San Lorenzo. We were escaping the blasted, bloody wolfdog for fifteen bloody minutes.

Estimated minutes before passing out from exhaustion: 9.

Vision, blurry. Legs, like lead. Can't talk, would likely vomit. I should've brought my inhaler. This bloody mess of a situation lasted a few more minutes.

I looked around when I slightly recovered, wondering where the bloody hell we were.

"Where are we?" asked Edward Dace, also recovering from the wheezing.

"Hindi ko alam," answered Futhark.

"Dude, ikaw ang sinusundan ko!"

"Hindi ako tumitingin sa dinadaanan ko! Hinahabol tayo ng... ng isang malaking aso, Ed!"

I heard movement coming from the abandoned warehouse. Now it didn't seem to be abandoned at all. Cars were parked nearby.

I quickly covered Edward Dace's loud, loud mouth and shushed him. "Nobody make a sound."

Futhark nodded and scanned the surroundings as well. I heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps. And metal jangling. If memory serves me right, that's the sound of guns cocking.

We got ourselves into the wrong place and the wrong situation.

I pulled Edward Dace and Futhark behind a bush where we can't be seen and whispered, "Retreat somewhere you can't be seen. Don't make a sound."

The footsteps sounded closer. I need to get these two idiots out of here.

But how?

I heard a man's voice: "May tao. Dalin na natin sa loob."

We were seen. We can't run, they might shoot.

We need to surrender.

"Stay here," I told the idiots, standing up. "And escape when you got the chance, got it?"

They nodded.

I came into the light and raised both of my hands, slowly and cautiously approaching the armed men. There were two of them.

"I'm unarmed," I told them, "and I was sent here."

They lowered their guns.

"I don't have a bug or a tracker," I assured them. Part of my lie, of course. "And I just want to talk on behalf of my boss."

It worked. They nodded at each other, then turned to me. They beckoned to follow, and I did. Futhark and Edward Dace should be escaping at this moment.

"Teka!" Futhark called. We all turned to him. I bit my lip in frustration.

If I ever get out of here alive, I'm going to kill you, Futhark.

Edward Dace was caught too, as he was in the middle of dragging Futhark back into hiding. I heard him mutter, "Yare yare, perkele."

••• GODSFORRENT •••

ALL THREE OF US WERE CAPTURED, tied up together, and locked up in a room inside the warehouse. It was a hideout. Whose, I wasn't sure. There were boxes of what seemed like contraband. There were guns lying on the table. I didn't catch a clear glimpse of everything inside, I didn't see if there were drugs or anything that could possibly be related to the failed buy-bust operation.

Are we in Cypress Street?

I can't even call anyone since they collected our phones and everything we had in our pockets. I need to think of a plan to escape and not be consumed by my irritation.

"Are they going to kill us?" asked the primary source of my irritation. "Dude, they're going to kill us, aren't they? I haven't confessed to Macey yet, I still haven't flown a chopper yet—I can't die with the two of you, that's the lamest death ever! And what are they going to do with our dead bodies later on? Oh my god, they're going to—"

"Shut up!" I kicked his leg. "Quit spiralling, we're going to think of a way out of here."

"How? Pwede ka ba naming ialay? Tatanggapin ka ba nila?"

I didn't even bother to reply to that.

"Hindi ka nila tatanggapin bilang alay, ano? The best lang ang gusto nila. Baka ako ang unahin nila?! Pwede ba silang suhulan, may ilang milyon ako sa bangko..."

I wanted to yell shut up and chant it until he shuts up forever.

I took a deep breath. "Listen, Edward Dace. These men can do nothing if you don't talk. Unless they ask you questions and you need to answer wisely or else they'll kill you and—that's not a great phrase to comfort you eh?—look, calm down and trust me."

I couldn't see their faces since we were tied back to back, but I felt Edward Dace nodding. "I'll trust you on this one, drama queen."

Good.

"Futhark, ayos ka lang?" the primary source of my irritation asked the secondary source, who had been quietly shaking the whole time.

"Mm-hmm," Futhark blatantly lied. "S-Sorry. Ayos lang, ayos lang."

"Are you crying?" I grimaced.

"Dude, 'wag kang umiyak, 'wag sa harap ni drama queen! O likod. Basta 'wag sa presensya ni drama queen!"

The door moved. All of us tensed. I could sense Edward Dace holding his breath, since he's facing the opposite of the door. He whispered, "Sinong pumasok?"

My vision focused on the person standing by the doorway. All sounds disappeared. Everything in my peripherals disappeared.

NICHOLAS JAMES.

Magenta jacket over a green band shirt. Annoyingly bleached orange trousers.

A stupid smirk on his face.

Phone charger tied around his neck.

Blond hair tousled, presumably by the wind.

He rushed to this place, but he wouldn't want to make that obvious.

Stupid smile on his face.

A huge wave of flashbacks zoomed about the area surrounding us. They were so vivid, they materialised and flew in front of me for three seconds, before turning into a tornado of shards. In each shard, a distinct memory played in loop.

"Hi, I'm Nicholas James! I want to be your friend."

"Have you ever fired a pistol before?"

"That wasn't my fault, aren't you the psychopath who shot your own brother?"

"Hi, I'm Nicholas James! Let's be friends!"

"We're going to play with each other, right?"

"Hi, Jule. I'm a fan!"

The tornado swirled around Nicholas James, then disintegrated along with a strong gush of wind, emphasising the mischievous smirk on his face.

REALITY.

"You." I glared at him and gritted my teeth. I clenched my fists, it didn't even matter that my nails dug into my palm.

Nicholas James smiled and waved his hand. "Hi, Jule. I'm a fan."

"Nicholas?" I heard Edward Dace mutter. He turned his head, but I was sure he still couldn't see what's behind him.

"Let us go," I told Nicholas.

He shrugged. "Sorry, I have no say in this. I actually just passed by."

"Dude, sindikato 'yang hinayupak na Nicholas na 'yan?" asked Edward Dace. He totally ruined the seriousness of the atmosphere.

"I'm not with these guys." Nicholas chuckled. "I had a friend here and they sorta let me in to have fun!"

"Are you the one who tipped the dealers about the buy-bust operation?" I asked, remembering that he has a lot of connections.

"No, it was the police officer uhh... John...?"

"Jude."

"Jimmy? It's funny because the librarian who was supposed to be the one dealing the drugs tonight died last Friday so the Mafia had to send another duo, just to use the decoy the police officer set up."

"Decoy, you mean the Tamarisk Street sting, correct?"

Nicholas expressed an emotion of being impressed. He clapped his hands. "That is wicked! How did you know? Wow, your skills are still amazing, I am gobsmacked!"

He laughed heartily to himself, until he finished and his expression returned into a heartless, unrelenting frown. "I actually have no idea what's happening, I was playing Mario Kart when I heard, oh hey! They have Jule! And then I got excited and I rushed to this place and then, and then I saw Edward Dace and I was like ooohhh Edward Dace is here too!"

"Piss off," was all Edward Dace managed.

"Edward Dace! They fixed my favourite cup!"

"Good for you. Can you let us go in exchange of my kindness?"

"No." He sat on the floor and stared at us, smiling.

I decided to ask. "If you're going to be here for a while, then answer my question. Why did you enrol in Coronado?"

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a very specific question. You wouldn't believe me if I said I have a network of connections inside the uni."

"Arthur Lukas," I concluded.

He swayed forward and grinned. "Aw, that spoils the thrill of making you guess, how dare you." He laughed again. "But it wasn't really Arthur."

"The initiative is a trap you've set, innit?"

He shook his head and laughed again. "That initiative is everything but a trap. You know how much I hate it? You know how much I oppose it? DO YOU?!"

Edward Dace flinched when Nicholas raised his voice.

"I hate that initiative so much. Imagine? A group of brilliant detectives? That's an ostentatious threat to our organisation!"

The organisation, right. He's still a part of it.

"Then why make me sign?!" Edward Dace yelled back. He's finally built up the courage. "Wala kang magawang matino sa buhay, ano?! Gago 'to, 'wag mo akong idamay!"

Nicholas stood and skipped over to Edward dace, to talk to him, face-to-face. "Because I hate it. Why would I let you do something I love? That ruins it. And look! I can play with Jule here again! And don't you, you poor, little, weak Edward Dace need friends to protect you? Now that your life is in danger?"

I could sense Edward's spirits sinking. "What do you mean in danger...? What did I do?"

"I don't know, I've just read a lot about your past."

"My past?" Edward Dace paused briefly. "Who are you, really...? What do you mean? Oi!"

I had to kick Edward Dace again. "Edward, calm down. He's lying. He can manipulate people by lying, confusing them, and then provoking them into doing what he wants."

Edward Dace replied, "But his tone doesn't seem like he's lying!"

"Really? Awesome!" Nicholas must've been sparkling.

"Leave Edward Dace alone, Nicholas James," I told him, my voice firm.

"Hey, hey, hey Edward Dace, hey," Nicholas bugged. I heard Edward grunt. "Hey, Edward Dace! What do you say, we meet your mum?"

That hit a nerve.

Edward Dace attempted to attack Nicholas, only that we were tied together and he ended up pulling us with him. He thrashed around, screaming in different languages that made it look like he was possessed and was speaking in tongues.

Nicholas was absolutely delighted in seeing Edward Dace enraged, especially since Edward dragged Futhark and me with him. The ropes hurt and I alone can't hold Edward Dace down. Futhark was once again useless.

"Edward! Calm down!" I yelled.

Nicholas chortled at us. "Your new friends are bloody weak, Jule!"

I was glaring at him when the wolfdog earlier lunged at him and pinned him on the ground. Nicholas screamed. The wolfdog growled at him. Nicholas had no escape.

Then Laevateinn came.

I was relieved.

Laevateinn smirked at me before he freed us with a pocket knife. I made sure to keep Edward Dace away from Nicholas James, whilst I helped Futhark get back to his feet. He was shaking and he looked like a mess.

"That's your dog?" I asked Laevateinn.

"He's Fenrir, my best friend," replied Laevateinn, obviously proud of his dog.

More armed men came to the room, and I wondered for a second how Laevateinn found us, and how he managed to sneak past these men.

"How well can you fight?" I asked Laevateinn again.

"Better than you, most decidedly."

"And Futhark was furious that I made you stay behind."

Laevateinn whistled to Fenrir, and the wolfdog leapt to his side. Nicholas, with visible tears in his eyes, raised a thumb up. "That dog is amazing! Scary, but amazing!"

The men pointed their guns at us. I stood in front of Edward and Futhark. Laevateinn poised to fight.

Nicholas raised his hand to the men, a signal for them to hold their fire. He said, "Look, Jule," he groaned in pain from Fenrir's attack, "I'm not saying this because I'm your "arch-nemesis", the angel you've hated so much for being perfect... I'm actually just saying this because I'm an absolute big-hearted adorable lad." He turned serious and sincere. "You have bigger enemies to face, and bigger threats ahead of you. Whether you think the initiative is a trap or not is your call. This is no longer just about your little detective game, sweetcheeks."

Fenrir barked at him.

"Hold! That!" Nicholas lost composure, so he took a deep breath and shut his eyes. "That bloody wolfhound..."

Laevateinn apologised, "Sorry. Unlike me, he has zero tolerance for stupid."

A man came in and whispered something to Nicholas, to which Nicholas said, "Oh blimey." He turned to us, "I gotta go, love you byeee!" Then he ran away, escorted by two more men.

"I'll take the ones on the left," said Laevateinn. "You take the ones on the right."

"They have guns," I said.

"I was talking to Fenrir, but thanks for the sitrep."

There was a racket outside, and I heard a clear, "POLICE, GET DOWN!"

I was sure it was Casey. That was Casey's voice.

The men in front of us rushed outside. Others were successful in getting away, but a few where knocked down by Lance, who quickly checked on us.

I heard Edward Dace gasp in amazement, commenting, "He can fight...?"

Lance's nostrils flared. "You just had to bring the others with you, huh?!" he scolded me.

"Why are you here?" I asked, completely ignoring the fact that he's enraged.

"Laevateinn said "the three idiots ran away and got themselves into trouble"."

Edward Dace squinted his eyes at Laevateinn. "You just had to save the day, hadn't you?"

Laevateinn nonchalantly replied, "I'm Superman."

Casey entered the room and nodded at me. "Great solve."

We were actually captured and we found this hideout because of Futhark's panic but thanks.

"Let's get you boys out of here," said Lance. "Cassandra, is the area clear?"

"It's clear."

••• GODSFORRENT •••

LANCE'S CAR. I called shotgun, whilst Edward Dace, Futhark, and Laevateinn sat at the backseat. Fenrir the wolfdog took the empty space behind them. Edward and Futhark calmed down. It was a quiet ride.

"Lance, about the contract and the initiative," I broke the silence.

"You don't have to sign if you're still in doubt," replied Lance, not removing his eyes from the road. "Just forget everything."

"Forget?" Edward Dace interrupted. "Forget everything that happened there?"

Edward Dace raised his voice at Lance? This was new.

"You almost died there," Lance told him. "Forget the initiative. I'm not letting you sign up for this."

"Yeah! And that's where I realised that the initiative is scary. But duuude, you know what's far more scarier? It's knowing that there's an enemy out there, knowing that my life is in possible danger, knowing that my privacy is no longer safe, and doing nothing to protect or defend myself. I thought that the initiative needed me for my skills, but it turns out, I need the initiative. I just need to be braver."

I ought to tell Lance my thoughts, but Edward Dace started to do it for me.

And Edward Dace wasn't done yet.

"Sir dude, ang sabi mo sa 'min, if we think something's not right, we should never give up until we found our truth. And guess what? Everything's not right! We need to learn, and the only way we'll learn is through your guidance, Sir Ducere."

Lance was silent for a moment. He then said, "Futhark, what do you think?"

Futhark quietly replied, "I don't want to be useless. Please teach me how to not be useless."

"And Laevateinn?"

Laevateinn replied, "They gave me apples. I shall be their Superman."

"And you?"

I looked out of the window and grinned. "What Edward Dace said."