The ball started to roll right after what happened at Mirrors Palace. After a swift evacuation of the civies, the C.U.C. picked the job up and did a fine clean-up for the place. The beaten up walls, furniture, and debris are all swept up. As if the shootout had never happened. At the same time, The Agency immediately secured the location of any patrolling police and bribed them. They even had the forethought to create a rumor of a movie shooting gone wrong. The cover-up was air-tight.

Everything was coordinated from a place an hour of walk from the scene. The order came from a then abandoned karaoke place, which was bought two years ago in 1481 AD, using a proxy company owned by The Agency. The name of the proxy company is called "Conservative Admin Limited". It doesn't have a meaning, just a randomly chosen word from the dictionary. There's no information of it on the Uninet. Everything exists only on the paper, with financial reports noting it has ten employees running the business.

Well observant passerby will notice the building looks empty, just like many which exists around this block. One of its only other identification is a generic chrome plaque, written with the address "A11". The door is of course unlocked, but curiously one can never know what's inside until they go upstairs, which happens to have a false wall, and a door which can be unlocked with the proper keycard. No one will bother to check a boring and plain building.

For now, the building will serve as a temporary base and housing for the Control Point, Parmadita, and her envoys. There are thirty agents running around the clock, making sure all the logistical requirement were met before proceeding with the next objective. Some of their main concern are food supply chain, information supply chain, stable encrypted uninet connection, miniature cameras, plugging info-leaks, counter-intelligence, and much more.

One of the agent is Coppola, a senior whose job is to interview, or rather interrogate the master mind behind Mirrors Palace, Glasses Man. Glasses Man is a streetname, one without origin, but agreed upon by the gangs and civilians alike. Through public records, his mana signature are impossible to within the civil records. He can only be found using a manual filtering method. Male, 200 centimeters tall, ambidextrous, no visible scars, and sharp canine on both of his jaw. He is built like a devil incarnate, with smooth skin and pale eyes to match it up. Although he was caught wearing glasses, further inspection shows the glass does not have any vision assistance whatsoever. No myopia nor hypermetropia effect, no ultraviolet blockers, no blue light filter, its not even photochromatic. Just plain plastic covered by a scratch resistant film. Nowadays they called it "fashion eyewear".

The interrogation are happening now, inside of a plain unpainted room, at the underground level, south of the building. Coppola is munching on his favorite food, instant noodles with eggs and beef bacon. Meanwhile the interrogated can only watch, pondering his next move.

Glasses Man is handcuffed to a steel pipe protruding from the walls. It serves to carry gas and water to the building. He tried to break away from his shackles, shown by the red rash around the skin of his arms. But it was too strong, he doesn't have the energy to do it.

Twelve hours have passed since the shootout. Not much had happened since then, except to rest and relax after a good day's work. For example, Parma is taking a long shower after her horror-movie-tier interaction with the locals. Lukman and Jackson on the other hand was taken out of his holiday and went through the civilian way of sterilization. One might think he must have had a smoother experience because he's an agent. Those who think like that are wrong.

Rena on the other hand have coughed up all of the juicy details after a short and non-physical interrogation. She was talking about the illegal operation within Mirrors Palace, Glasses Man's habits, their grand plan, and other trade secrets. It turns out this whole domino effect was started by her, soon it will be explained why.

"You sure don't want to eat this?" Coppola pushes a packet of instant noodle forward. Glasses Man rejected the offer politely. His mouth have not moved yet. As someone that have been in the business for a long time, dealing with the authorities is its own art and skill-set. Mastering it is the reason why he has kept the business alive after all these decades.

"Your name Glasses Man, is there a reason why you chose that?"

"I want my lawyer."

"Those can be arranged. Do you want to do it before, or after I gave them this slab?" He reached inside his overcoat then showed him a magi-holo. It's a realized version of what can be seen inside a magi-camera. A thin black slab with magical properties. Each slab contains just enough mana to active its own mechanism. It can survive hundreds of usage on a single refill.

Coppola turn feels the edge of the slab until he found a clickable surface. Once it's clicked, one drip of mana is then transferred into the narrow channel inside, activating a hologram display for exactly fifty seconds. Although there are artifacts of a bad capture, such as blurs and smears, most of the hologram are readable. It's showing a colored, 3D hologram of the backside of Mirrors Palace.

It was taken a year ago from a vantage point near the building. Standing near the backdoor is Glasses Man. His face is barely identifiable behind a partially closed door. He is talking to two people outside, Rena and a small lady beside her.

Coppola is moving two of his finger in the air. The hologram zoomed into the small lady beside Rena. Only the backside of her head can be seen. She is wearing her working clothes. White, glittery, and tight. It's easily identified that she is a woman of Heis descent.

Heis is a race of highly sought after people in the black market. They are procured for many kinds of slavery and hard labour. It's painfully hard to get them, as it involve side stepping regulations and inspections by both The Republic and The Feds.

They are a short race, no taller than 155 centimeters, has an above average resistance to cold and hot weathers, and comfortable living in harsh conditions. Heis people also age slower than homo sapiens, living up to three hundred years old. Because of their way of living, the young could reach maturity after five years. They are the perfect worker to raise and nurture, given how regular people need at least four times longer to be able to contribute to society.

Because of frequent war, they mostly survived as a slave and shunned by the community. This behavior especially thrives inside the territory of Milium, where regulation against owning people does not exist. Their existence in Roze Island is illegal because of cases of them being rented as prostitutes against their will. Businesses who were caught are usually dissolved, sold to the highest bidder, and automatically emancipated any Heis people in it. Currently, between the three big countries, only Milium legalized the production, procurement, and trades of slaves.

"You remember this little lady, Glasses Man? She is in my hands now, probably enjoying a free life back at my place. Your slave biz is ours now, so pick your words carefully."

Coppola is tugging an invisible string in Glasses Man's heart. His eye stopped moving then points straight towards Coppola's cornea. A landmine had been activated. It explodes and put Glasses Man on the spot, throwing every attention he has towards him. Coppola will now use this attention to dig deeper into who Glasses Man really is. His motive and connections to Milium.

Glasses Man smiled after a while. The slave ring is something he values, but in the bigger picture, he can always lose some of his "product" by this shakedown without putting his venture out of business. He has friends within the underbellies of Milium. Slave traders that are loyal to the coin. This interrogation is just a hiccup to his otherwise perfect operation.

"I want my lawyer." He it again, Coppola's threat of the control to his business doesn't shake him.

"Later you will get one. But before that, don't you have any question for me?"

Glasses Man has dirt on the mayor, policemen, patron in high places, and more. He thinks this is just another regular arrest by The Feds.

"You can't touch me." Glasses Man tries to get some ground in this psychological battle.

"I already did. The rules of engagements have changed. You are not invincible anymore." Coppola slurps down the soup in his noodle.

"I am entitle to a lawyer, it's my right!"

Immediately, Coppola threw the instant noodle to his face. The still boiling water inside the cup burned Glasses Man skin. He let out a high pitched scream, reflexively jumped away, hitting the wall behind him. His left arm are still handcuffed, so he can only use his right hand to touch his face. He's checking for bruises and blood. The only thing he found is bits of vegetables and strands of yellow noodles. Coppola closed in and pulled away his right arm.

"You scream like a girl. Did you learn that from torturing your slaves?"

"IT HURTS, FUCK YOU!"

"No, fuck you. We operate differently here. You are entitled to nothing. You won't get no presumption of innocence. Just pure transactions between men. Next time you think you're above me, remember this pain. Expect it will be worse later." Coppola finishes his speech by banging the back of Glasses Man's head to the wall.

I think it's understandable why he treats him like this. Human trafficking is a heinous crime and Coppola had a first hand experience on how it affected someone. Someone close, one you would die over for. But behind his theatrics, Glasses Man's role in this operation is still an important part of the mission, to say the least. He is the key person to penetrate the rigid social hierarchy of Milium, which could give them advantage once the war breaks out.

"Stop being such a sissy, it's not that hot. Now read this and do as we told, Max Razor. Dear god, what a stupid name. Who gave it to you, a mind broken whore with a stutter?"

"DAMN YOU!"

Max's skin is now red from the irritation. It doesn't give him any long term injuries, but it hurt like hell. He still can't focus yet on the paper Coppola just threw on the table. His corporation will need to wait until later.

There's a distinct and rhythmic knocks on the door. Coppola realizes that it must have been one of his agents. He turned around from towards the door and goes out of the room, leaving Max to his lonesome.

Tina is waiting outside with her notebook, hugged in front of her breast. Her glasses matches the black and white working suit she has on. There's a sweet yet acidic smell of sweat coming from her body, a mark of someone that have worked overtime. She took five days of overtime in succession, which is the cause of the black bag under her eyes. This operation have taken a toll towards Tina's mental health, making her speech stutters and mind cloudy.

"Tina, I told you get some rest. The other agents can take over your work. You have been five days straight, that is more than enough."

She disregarded Coppola's advice. Her only focus is to give him a message, something she has been working on lately. It's the result of reading mountains of documents stolen from Max's property a month ago. The papers were found inside of a warehouse near his house. The Agents have been transporting them stacks by stacks, in the middle of the night, without raising an alarm, in the span of a week. Tina was assigned to organize and compile information from the documents.

She found most of them to be paychecks and financial reports of Mirrors Palace. Some papers also became proof of his involvement in trafficking Heis people. He documented their physical condition and forged their consent by forcing the Heis to sign an employment agreement. Max was also found to be interested in collecting and printing chat logs with his contacts back in Milium. He did so to gather proof, making him useful to his captors in case he got caught.

"Agent, I... Have found them. The keys to... infilt... rate... Milium."

Tina lost her balance, she is falling down to the floor. Coppola took her hand, successfully stopping her before impact. Tina is trying to repress her headache, by grabbing and pulling her own hair. It feels like thousands of knife stabbing your brain, no amount of simple drugs can relieve the pain. Only time and rest can heal it. Coppola knew of the severity and made sure she is given enough rest for the next few days. Her dedication is appreciated, but a downed agent is a burden for everyone involved. A good agent always knew their limits.

"How is Lukman doing?" Parmadita is sipping on her cup of coffee. She is wearing a loose shirt, two size larger than usual. The smell of a freshly showered woman still lingers on her skin. Her hair is dangling down freely, long enough to touch her armpit. She has a natural dark color to her hair, it's silky smooth despite rarely being treated with chemical.

Parmadita is enjoying her free time at the dining area, away from the commotion of working agents. She is accompanied by Coppola. He came in not long after Parma sat here. Her main reason to relax here is to dry her hair. The air conditioning around here is within the perfect window of cold and dry.

Coppola is visiting her to talk business, which probably violates several articles of OPSEC, but compromises like this must be done to make sure she is as comfortable as possible.

"Lukman... He is shaken, but nothing to be worried about. He's in the room beside ours. He should be binging the latest episode of Schmelz The Slayer right now." It's the animated series of the season. The show is good enough to dethrone the former undisputed best series of all time, Half Blood Alchemist: Sisterhood.

Parma soon realizes Coppola is here for business, not a merely coincidental encounter. There was a screw up in the mission, she inadvertently caught the wrong person. It was her own coworker. Something must have gone wrong in the planning phase, which to be fair wasn't led and finalized by her. She is just a small cog in the large family of gears of a war machine. But she has seen someone got punished by lesser misstep, albeit from a different department.

Coppola can see the worry in her eyes, even when she's not looking at him. He is thinking this is the best time to derail her thought process into something more relevant. The mission must go on and this is no time to ponder upon mistakes.

"Don't worry too much about your mishaps. It was also my fault to not account for Rena's diligence, then noticing our plan. She intentionally changed Lukman's order to yours, replacing Max's order. Rena did it because Max was unreachable, she smelled something wrong and called on our shenanigans. This led to Max having enough time to notice the Heis rebels, you are not exactly being quiet. Thankfully we are ready to capture him near the back door, at the risk of some civies noticing." Coppola let out a small sigh after he finishes his explanation.

"Without Rena's involvement, we could've arrested him in my room, not wasting time on calling C.U.C. and sterilizing the damn place." Parmadita still thinks it was her fault.

"It's spilled milk, who cares anyway. Now we have enough information and a live mule that we can exploit. The mission is still on track." Coppola replied with reassuring words, to tone down the self-deprecating spiral she could go into.

Parmadita chugs down her hot coffee, she needed that bitter taste in her mouth, to wash down the negative feelings she's having. It reminded her of a document which Coppola are suppose to give to Max Razor. It contains a deal Max can't logically refuse. A blackmail of some sort, to cement his corporation with The Agency. Parma asked Coppola about the documents, he answers with joy.

"Oh yeah, the files. I just compiled everything we know about his children. A guy on the inside said he still care for his young-uns, but not for his wife. We can't really hurt them physically, but he knows our capabilities. We can make sure no corpos would employ them, increase the premium for their insurances, boring things like that. Those reasons are enough to convince him we are the monster here." Coppola giggled as he said the word "monster". He is no more afraid of a mafia like Max than a mosquito on a peaceful night.

"So, Tina found anything useful?" Parmadita knew of Tina's work. She is one of the first one to notice Tina's obsessive nature, and also the first one to reminded her to take a rest.

"She did. This paper was found in a page of a family book Max had."

Everyone in Ha at least had one "Book of Family". There are descriptions, opinions, and photos of each members of a family. One can imagine it like a family painting, but in a book form. Civies mostly put the book on the guest table, so others can pass the time reading about the host's families.

Coppola took out a paper and laid it down on the table. It's a copy of a page magnified one and a half times. It depicts a tree of descendants, one for a family called "Falsch". Some of the member's names are censored by a stripe of black ink. While others are still clearly printed out. Parmadita have taken notice to one of the names.

"This one on the bottom right, Max Falsch. Is this our guy?" Parma asked plainly.

"Yep, that's our guy. We found a family photo with Max and his parents. Strangely, he was not pictured with the others. This photo was found slipped in one of the pages. It is not part of the book. As if someone doesn't want max to be recorded in the first place."

There is similar to a custom particularly prevalent in Milium. It's about how slaves are treated in Milium, particularly one that works in a brothel. The "lucky" and educated among them are nurtured into mail in brides or grooms, advertised as a loyal and competent life companion. Which are true to a certain extent because of their brainwashed mentality. But everyone realized they are just a glorified maid in disguise.

Now the custom in question is about the treatments of children born from the inevitable love or lust from the haves, and have not. Some people welcomed this newborn into their family as if they are one of them. But some, such as the Falsch family, had a different idea. Through formality, Max is still recorded as a member of the family. But that doesn't make him "one of them" in day to day basis. In short, Max is considered to be a bastard born from an enslaved mother, and shamefully fathered by a noble. No wonder he changed his name to distance himself from his family.

"I've heard of the Falsch, interesting. We are sitting on a gold mine here. Max's family have control over a lot of aspects within Milium. They practically own the country, without being the leader of it. We must retain him, indefinitely."

"I agree Parma, but we don't have much time on our hand before they realized Max is being detained. He'll be excommunicated soon after that, then we will lost our mule. We have to free him, ASAP."

Again, he said the word mule. An animal used for ages to transport goods across long distances. Be it legal goods, contraband, or a person. The question which Parmadita ponders upon right now, is what Max are supposed to carry behind his back. What kind of a mule he really is in the eyes of Coppola.

"So, spit it out. You must have a plan by now." Parma replied with a tint of resignation in her voice. She knew Coppola already had a plan for this.

"For now, nothing concrete. Our main goal is to get inside their inner circle through Max's connections. We already have someone in mind, but that must wait for later. For now there is one single serious question that you must answer." Coppola put his best and flattest expression possible.

"Alright, shoot." Parmadita moved her back ever so slightly into the backrest of the chair. She expects a question that will use up her entire brainpower.

"What do you think of marrying Lukman?"

An out of the field question. She does not expect it, her eyebrows is moving in irregular pattern. Parma is trying to make sense of the situation, in which she deemed to be bizarre. Something very weird is brewing, she could not see the future far enough to know what will happen next.