As much as Garrett is loath to admit it, Corvo is possibly the most competent person in the Watch. Not that that changes things. If anything, it's making it worse. The deal was that Garrett would do the jobs Corvo himself couldn't do. Apparently, that's actually a lot. All those skills from Dunwall and he can't do a simple retrieval job? Somehow he finds that hard to believe. He's not sure if he's being lazy or cautious, but if he can't do this, how does he expect to keep the Watchmen in line? With pretty promises and smiles? Thus far, he hasn't actually seen him do anything else.

His job tonight is taking him to a Watchman's apartment. The man in question - Watchman Gunn - has been taking bribes according to Corvo. This goes against the new, more upstanding image he's trying to create for the Watch. He wants him to break in and steal anything of value. For evidence, he's assuming. He's allowed - he'll ignore how that word sets his teeth on edge - to take anything from the apartment that catches his eye, but not before he shows Corvo. As if he wasn't planning on taking whatever he wanted already.

He had a couple days to get it done, but most of those already went toward learning Gunn's schedule to make sure he wouldn't have to cut the job short tonight. It's nothing convoluted. He should be on patrol. Most Watchmen don't have complicated schedules, but nothing irks him more than a target who breaks their routine.

He crosses the adjoining beam between two buildings and stops on the ledge outside a third story window. He takes his crowbar out and pauses to listen for voices inside. Gunn should still be at work now, but even Watchmen have visitors. But there are no voices, no footsteps, no noise inside at all. Even so, he stays close to one side of the frame, as far as he can get while still opening the window. He places the end of the crowbar under the windowsill and pushes down. The windowsill opens with a crack. No darts come flying out of an unseen trap. He climbs through, but not before checking for traps on the floor.

The room he lands in is the largest, a combination of a kitchen and dining room. Empty bottles litter the small table. Sitting in one of the chairs is Gunn, slumped over the table, asleep.

What did he just say about routine?

He freezes in place, sure that at any moment he'll wake up or turn his head and see him.

Indecision keeps him rooted in place while he tries to sort through his options as fast as possible. He could - probably should - leave. Gunn being here isn't even the problem. He's robbed drunks before and if the noise from the window didn't wake him, there's a good chance he's out cold. The problem is that Corvo is the only one who knows he's supposed to be here. What did he do now? There's no way this is just a coincidence. He knows he has something to do with this. How does he manage to get in his way even from so far away?

He could leave, tell Corvo that if he wants his job done, then he should keep his nose out of his business. He looks at Gunn, who still hasn't moved. But he didn't get here by letting a lone, drunken Watchman scare him away. If every thief was that easy to ward off, they wouldn't need the Watch anymore.

The apartment is small but nice for the South Quarter. He can see most of it from his spot by the window. Only part of the bedroom is hidden from view. It's well-furnished too, for a Watchman's pay.

He takes an empty silver flask off the counter and a plain, silver ring off the table. He moves towards the bedroom next, ignoring the bathroom altogether. There's not enough money in the world.

The bedroom looks normal. No suspicious sections in the floor, or loose pieces in the wall. No paintings to check behind. Out of ideas for the moment, he checks the room for anything valuable. The only thing he finds is a coin purse in the bedside drawer. This, at least, isn't what he's looking for. He doubts very much that five coins is the whole of the bribes he's collected. He pockets the coins and checks the whole room again. He even checks under the pillows and inside the drawer again, looking for a false panel. Nothing.

Truly out of ideas now, he blinks and the room snaps into gray. Sitting on the floor at his feet is a pair of handprints lit up in a familiar ghostly blue. Running between them is a bright line of red. One end runs under the bed. The other turns sharply to the right and runs underneath a chair sitting against the wall. He kneels and looks under the chair. A little metal box is built into the wall, just waiting for him to set it off. A pressure plate. A good try, but disarming it is as easy as following the wire to the button hidden behind the headboard and pressing it. There's a click from beneath the bed. He kneels and reaches under the bed, pulling a flat, wooden case from underneath it. He unlatches it with two quiet clicks.

With the amount of things inside, it's a wonder Gunn wasn't caught sooner. There's a ring with a diamond-shaped stone, dark blue and speckled with white, that reminds him of a starry night sky, a pair of octagonal gold and emerald earrings, a mess of necklaces with stones of every shape and color, and three pocket watches made of bronze, silver and gold respectively that have to be part of a set. Little stacks of coins are scattered throughout the case, maybe in an effort to keep track of it all or keep it tidy.

Just how long has he been doing this? He can't keep the smile off his face as he collects all the jewelry and coins, promising them all a better home. He's just closing the case when he hears a shuffling noise. The room dips into grayscale again, long enough for him to hear the quiet, even breathing above the quiet rushing noise of the Primal. He shoves the case back under the bed and gets ready to leave. Do Watchmen take their weapons home with them?

Gunn is still passed out at the table when he gets to the main room. He inches carefully past the table, wary of the fragile bottles covering the table. He moves slowly, waiting for the moment the floor creaks and gives him away.

Instead, Gunn shifts in his seat and sends an empty bottle to the floor. The crash is deafening. He starts to stir. Garrett closes the rest of the distance between him and the window. He barely gets his fingers under the sash when a hand clamps down on his shoulder and hauls him back. He lands on the floor on his back. His head hits the floor hard enough to make his teeth rattle. Everything goes white.

His hand reaches back for his quiver before his vision is even fully cleared. His hand closes around a flash bomb. He flings it at Gunn's feet in the same moment he raises a bottle over his head. Garrett curls in on himself, eyes shut against the burst of white light that goes off. He hears a squawk of surprise. A chair scrapes against the floor. He pulls himself up and lurches through the window right before a bottle breaks open against the wall beside it.

He stays on the rooftops after leaving the apartment, more worried about running into more Watchmen. Patrols have started to dwindle lately, but he's feeling dizzy and unlucky tonight. Thankfully, the trip back to the Clock Tower is calm. He doesn't see any more Watchmen, drunk or otherwise and any interest he had at getting a closer look at the trinkets he found tonight falls by the wayside as he checks his head for bruising or bleeding.

After making sure he's free of any serious head injuries, he's out on the rooftops again the very next night, waiting. For Corvo. For answers. He has half a mind to keep all the bribes for himself.

Right on cue, pressure builds behind his eye. He tenses and turns in a slow circle, watching the rooftops and the streets below him alternately, waiting to catch something moving. The pressure spikes, just for a second, and the feeling of needles prodding him is back. He winces, steps back from the edge, and backs into someone.

Startled, he whirls around, hand on his blackjack, the world flashing blue and gray for an instant before he recognizes the masked figure standing before him. He sees Corvo flinch for a split second too. Serves him right.

Corvo is quiet for a minute. He gets the feeling he's studying him. "Trouble?"

His hand lingers on the blackjack. He takes two steps back. "You would know."

"I would?" He doesn't sound terribly concerned.

Why is everything about him so frustrating? "Are you playing dumb or is this the real thing?"

"What happened?"

"You tell me." He crosses his arms. "What was that Watchman doing home last night?"

"He was home?"

"Why?"

"He-" He sighs deeply. "Believe me, if I thought there was any chance he would go home, I wouldn't have fired him tonight."

"You fired him?" It comes out less angry and more shocked. For some reason, it's hard to picture him firing someone. "Without evidence?"

"Of course not."

"Then what did you need me to go in there for?" If he didn't need evidence, what was the point of him getting clobbered?

"I just needed to make sure he didn't get anything out of lying to me." At Garrett's silence, he goes on. "I asked him if it was true that he'd been taking bribes. He said no. If I didn't already know the truth, I might've believed him. I knew he liked to drink." He shrugs. "I assumed he would go out to a pub."

He can feel all the things he already knows about Corvo rearranging themselves to make room for this new puzzle piece. He could've fired him in a fit of rage, like some would have done, or taken Gunn's name off the rotation permanently, like a certain late General would have. Instead, he took stock of his options and picked the one that would work best. Like firing an arrow.

He smiles behind his mask. Because that, using less-than-legal means to wring a little personal satisfaction out of the situation, is something a criminal would've done. Who would've thought the Lord Protector had a petty streak?

"Would you... have given him another chance if he told the truth?"

"... No. But I wouldn't have sent you after him. I assume that's everything?" Corvo asks, nodding to the bag in his hand.

He holds the bag out to him, but he shakes his head.

"Keep it. Do what you want with it. I just couldn't let him have it."

Corvo pays him, they say their goodbyes, and he watches him leave. It happens - not very often, but it happens - every once in a while some Watch officer or general gets it into their head that they're going to crack down on crime, and this time they're done fooling around. It never lasts for very long. Mostly because the criminals they're trying to reform get right to work finding loopholes in the new rules. He expected more of the same from Corvo, especially since he's not from the City.

He wouldn't have made it much farther with the Watch if he'd let Gunn go. He would've gone behind his back and told everyone what a fool he was. The new Watch commander from the faraway Empire, as easy to fleece as you'd expect from a newcomer. Soon enough all the Watchmen would have started going behind his back and he would've lost control of everything.

Call him a cynic - you wouldn't be wrong - but he wasn't quite convinced Corvo had it in him. It's one thing to get along with your own men and quite another to get them to listen to you. The Watch doesn't exactly have a good history with that. But it looks like the lap dog has some bite to him.