The fish was fresh, and Ignis's cooking was excellent. After a hearty meal, the tension that had once filled the Cunning Hares' base was completely gone.
Nicole, delighted beyond measure, had chugged several cans of alcohol and was now off to rest, tipsy and content.
Ignis was cleaning up the "battlefield" in the kitchen, an alloy rod clenched between his teeth. Recently, he'd discovered that this forging material contained a far richer mix of metals than the rebar he used to buy—though, of course, it was much more expensive.
Still, with how much he'd been eating lately, the nutrients he'd gained had greatly enriched his system. The Belisarian Furnace was already beginning to awaken. It wouldn't be long before it was fully operational again.
With Nicole already asleep, Nekomata had taken a large bag of cat food to feed her "little brothers." Anby and Billy were sitting in the lounge watching TV—it was news hour.
Apparently, the Vision Corporation was preparing for a shareholders' meeting to discuss the company's "future development."
Development? Ignis scoffed inwardly. It was more likely they were figuring out how to dump all the blame on the arrested Perlman.
His phone buzzed—a KnockKnock message notification.
At first, he thought it was a message from Phaethon or Markus, but when he opened it, he found a friend request instead.
What the hell? He was certain he'd turned off that feature. How could anyone still send him a request?
Ignis hesitated for a moment before tapping on it. The note read: "MICE."
Mouse?
He blinked, then quickly realized—it must be from Jane Doe.
"You really are a cautious one," came her first message after he accepted the request.
Before Ignis could even think about how to reply, she sent him a location pin.
It was for a well-known music bar in the Janus Quarter.
'Come here. Send me a message when you arrive—we'll meet outside. It's about Razor.'
Razor? The name immediately piqued Ignis's interest. He replied with a simple okay, adding that she should wait a while—he was still giving his "bowl" a wash and needed a bit more time before heading out.
Outside the bar, the deafening music could be heard even through the closed doors. The security guards by the entrance grew visibly uneasy at the sight of the towering man in a black, studded leather jacket and dark sunglasses. He looked far too much like someone about to start a brawl—silent, unmoving, and staring at the door.
Several of the guards quietly flicked on their stun batons, ready in case he suddenly made a move.
Ignis sent Jane a message, letting her know he was at the entrance and asking her to come quickly—otherwise, the guards might panic.
To be honest, if not for her familiar heat signature, he might not have recognized her when she appeared.
She'd changed her hair—now a blazing red that glowed like a spark in the dark night. Her gait was bouncy, full of youthful energy, nothing like when they'd met in the black market. The only thing she hadn't changed was that figure of hers; the band-logo T-shirt she wore could do nothing to hide her full chest, and her belly button was exposed. Torn denim shorts revealed fishnet stockings underneath, and a slender mouse tail wrapped around her left thigh. Her boots were the same as before—modified ones with hidden blades.
Wearing half-rimmed glasses, she looked every bit like a lively band fangirl blending perfectly into the crowd.
She approached and tried to link arms with Ignis but found herself too short for that—she could only cling to his wrist instead.
"Wasn't easy getting you to meet up," she said in a low voice. "Even adding you as a friend was a pain."
"Come with me, I know a good spot." She gave his wrist a gentle tug, signaling him to play along.
The voluptuous woman led him through a side alley behind the bar. Onstage, the music was at its peak, and since it was still early, the alley was quiet, free of drunkards.
Their footsteps startled a few rats rummaging through trash bins before Jane stopped in the shadows, letting go of Ignis and leaning against the wall.
"What is it about Razor?" Ignis didn't want to stay around her too long—his instincts screamed that this woman was trouble, best kept at arm's length.
"Straight to business, huh?" Jane chuckled softly from the shadows. "You really are no fun. If I'm not happy, I might just not tell you."
"Then what do you want me to do?" His tone hardened.
"Normally, a gentleman would compliment a lady's outfit or beauty first," she teased.
"If that's all you came for, I'm leaving." Ignis rolled his eyes.
"Oh, you're such a boring man," she sighed, shaking her head. "Fine, fine. Let's talk about the lion."
"I need your help getting a batch of supplies. I'll send you the list and the money. The Mountain Lion Gang's reputation in the black market is rotten—they'll draw the Public Security's attention if they buy too much anti-corrosion serum openly."
"And why should I help you? If you can disguise yourself, why not just do it yourself?"
"Because I want you to feel involved," she said with a shrug.
"Involved?" Ignis frowned. "You're kidding me."
"I need leverage, too, don't I? If the black market finds out you helped the Mountain Lion Gang procure supplies, you'll end up on their blacklist. The gang's low on resources—what little they get through official channels isn't enough. Most of their members are inside Hollows and need tons of serum. If I can provide it in bulk, I'll likely be accepted into Razor's personal guard."
"Once I'm in his guard, I'll quietly record the coordinates of the rifts they use. When the time comes, I'll pass them to you—you'll have your lead to the Proxy you're after."
"Good plan," Ignis admitted. "But I still don't trust you."
"Oh, come on, don't be so narrow-minded. I only nicked you a few times back in the black market—avoided any fatal spots. Just flesh wounds!" Jane huffed, annoyed.
Ignis studied the Mouse Thiren cautiously. He knew nothing about her, yet she'd found him so easily. That alone proved she had access to far better intel than he did. He'd even asked Nicole to dig into her background—but, unsurprisingly, came up empty.
Seeing her transformation tonight only confirmed it—her name and identity were both fake. Cooperating with someone who showed no sincerity was dangerous. You couldn't even retaliate if things went south.
"Tell me your real identity," Ignis said flatly. "Then I might consider working with you. Otherwise, we're done."
Jane's face darkened visibly. She frowned, pacing anxiously as her tail flicked from side to side, biting at her thumb.
The gesture was obviously fake—no old bite marks.
"Cut the act," Ignis said coldly. "Spare me the performance and tell me the truth—or at least make up something believable."
At his ultimatum, Jane stopped moving and leaned back against the wall again.
"You really want to know?" she said, then continued without waiting for an answer. "I'm a criminal psychology consultant for the Janus Quarter Public Security's Criminal Investigation Special Response Team. They sent me undercover into the Mountain Lion Gang."
"I know what you're thinking—it sounds made up. But guess how I got your contact info? Through the Public Security's internal system. I traced the phone number linked to your citizen ID."
"Why me?" Ignis asked. "Why not just contact Public Security directly?"
"I've read the reports about you. In the Vision case, the captured employees mentioned a giant who wiped out their armored squad. Public Security found the wreckage—unbelievable destruction. Then, in other incidents, they found traces of your involvement. For example, the Mountain Lion Gang's hunt near your place—Razor encountered you and immediately retreated. That's not his usual behavior. It means he was afraid of you."
"Razor's an arrogant bastard. If you scared him off, you're powerful enough. Considering that night you charged into their ranks and tore through his men, there's no doubt about your strength."
"As for why I didn't go to Public Security..."
Jane swallowed hard.
"I suspect Razor isn't human anymore. He's become something partEthereal—his body just hasn't crystallized yet. He's obsessed with his authority. Any challenge, any doubt, and he'll take that ancient axe he found in a Hollow and chop off the offender's head. He's monstrously strong—strong enough to tear down a building's support pillar. His skin's blood-red, his legs are bent the wrong way, his hands have claws, and his arms are covered in bone spurs."
"I don't think the Special Response Team can handle him. I don't want my colleagues walking into their deaths—so I came to you."
"Solid reasoning," Ignis admitted, eyeing her. "Let me tell you something, Thiren. I can see a person's heat signature. Don't try anything funny, or you'd better pray I never find you again."
"Of course, of course! Every word I said is true," Jane said quickly, extending her hand. "I'll send you the list, the funds, and the delivery point."
"Good." Ignis turned to leave, then paused and looked back. "You know where I can buy a Calisté cosmetics set?"
Jane froze, utterly thrown off. She'd expected a follow-up question about Razor—certainly not luxury makeup.
"There's a boutique nearby..." she muttered, pulling out her phone to send him a location pin. "But it's already closed."
"Then I'll just have to come back another time," Ignis grumbled, scratching his head in mild irritation.