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The real-world combat training went far more smoothly than anyone expected.
After all, the team lineup was simple.
Morin-the sole guardian of physicists' tears.
Carlos, Fox, and Wick-three max-level players with cheats turned on.
Wesley-a talent-maxed trainee who had paid a heavy price for every point.
With a lineup like that, was clearing a dungeon of ordinary assassins really difficult?
And just as Morin had predicted, during the process-
"Carlos?"
A bearded assassin froze when he realized Carlos had a gun aimed at him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked in shock. "Did you betray the Brotherhood too?"
"Sloan is the one who betrayed the Brotherhood," Carlos replied calmly. He didn't deny betrayal, instead neatly sidestepping the question.
"He falsified the kill lists."
"That's impossible!" the bearded man snapped. "That's Fate's guidance. Sloan would never-"
"He cracked the code and took control of the Loom," Carlos continued.
"He used it to fabricate kill lists, selling them to people who needed assassinations for massive profit."
"He turned us into killers. Into tools for his own gain."
"That's why Fox and I are going to confront him," Carlos said.
"You've all been deceived."
"...Do you have proof?" the bearded man asked after hesitating.
"After discovering this, I secretly entered the Loom's inner chamber," Carlos replied.
"I asked the Loom itself."
"It gave me an answer."
"Sloan's name."
Most assassins who encountered Carlos fell into the same pattern.
Once they saw the decrypted cipher on the cloth Carlos carried, their convictions shook completely.
Then came Morin's Temple Knight persuasion.
Which consisted of violence deterrence, generous incentives, commissions, and a future that didn't require hiding.
In the end, most of them declared that if Sloan had truly betrayed the Brotherhood, they would immediately join the Temple Knights.
Sloan sending the majority of assassins to hunt Fox had indeed been a wise move.
Of course, this wasn't a game.
Some assassins would rather die than surrender.
So many of them fell to Morin and the others.
And Wesley's hands were finally stained with blood.
...
"What are you thinking about?"
That night, on the rooftop of the hotel, Fox came to stand beside Wesley.
Her graceful figure-normally enough to steal his attention-went completely unnoticed.
"They shouldn't have died," Wesley said, staring at the distant city lights.
"They were just deceived, weren't they?"
"Yes," Fox said, sitting down beside him.
"They were Fate's most loyal believers."
"But they did the wrong thing."
"Just because of that?" Wesley lowered his head, looking at his hands.
They were clean.
But only hours ago, they had been stained with several lives.
"Faith is a serious matter," Fox said calmly.
"Betrayal is unforgivable."
"...What about you?" Wesley asked.
"What will you do after this is over?"
"What will I do..." Fox thought for a moment.
"If I've also betrayed Fate, then I'll do what I'm supposed to."
"...Kill yourself?" Wesley asked quietly.
"Maybe," Fox said as she stood up.
"Who knows?"
"Get some rest," she added, waving casually.
"Tomorrow, we confront Sloan."
"Goodnight, little boy."
"..."
Wesley stayed silent.
At first, he had liked Fox for her looks.
Later, he fell for her actions.
Now, faced with her belief-and what might follow-he didn't know how to stop her.
Or in what position.
Or for what reason.
His thoughts were a mess.
"Well, well."
A voice came from behind him.
"Looks like a young man troubled by love."
"Wesley," the voice continued.
"Are you confused?"
"...Mr. Morin?" Wesley turned, startled.
"When did you get here?"
"Probably around the time Miss Fox came up," Morin said casually.
"My hearing's good."
"And I enjoy a good show."
He lifted the camera in his hand and shook it slightly.
"I thought I might catch something interesting."
"..."
Wesley didn't know what to say.
Wasn't that a bit too direct?
And bringing a camera was just excessive.
"Oh well," Morin said. "Didn't get anything useful anyway."
He shook his hand again.
The camera vanished.
"You're confused," Morin said.
"Want some advice? I'm in a good mood."
By now, Wesley wasn't even surprised.
Morin did things like this all the time.
Whenever Wesley asked how, Morin never answered.
So Wesley assumed it was magic.
It couldn't really be magic... right?
After seeing it enough times, he'd gotten used to it.
"...It's just," Wesley hesitated, "about Fox."
"About Miss Fox," Morin said, sitting on the edge of the rooftop and looking down at the traffic below.
"I agree with one thing she said."
"Faith is serious."
"But, Wesley," he continued,
"there's nothing that can't be changed."
"Even faith."
"What?" Wesley didn't understand.
"Faith changes because of people. Or events," Morin said.
"Your father is the best example."
"He used to be an Assassin Master who firmly believed in Fate."
"You made him abandon it."
"He's now a provisional Temple Knight."
"He doesn't believe in Fate anymore."
"He believes in protecting order."
"For you."
"There may have been personal factors," Morin added.
"But trust me-without you, your father would never have left the Fraternity to join the Temple Knights."
"So if you want Miss Fox to change..."
"You just need to find someone-or something-important enough."
"The rest," Morin said as he stood,
"you can figure out yourself."
"Goodnight, Wesley."
"Tomorrow's going to be busy."
As Wesley left, Morin hummed softly to himself.
Playing matchmaker.
Playing mentor.
Speaking in riddles.
All at once.
It gave him an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.
If he had to sum it up in one sentence-
He had successfully shown off.
Freshly.
Elegantly.