While the political circles in Colohen City buzzed with the developments in the political conflicts between elite families and the Headmistress of the Elendir Institute of Magic, Cæ got to work the next morning, eager to complete his final day in the field in the last few days of the slum talent acquisition program.
"Alright, what is the status on our preparations?" he asked as he entered the dispatch facility where the entire task force was at work, stocking the trucks with the needed supplies and preparing themselves by donning their magigear.
Cæ himself had arrived, having already donned his Fyreveil raiment. An artifact that the Headmistress had authorized for his use, especially, worried about targeted attacks upon him in the slums.
"We're almost done," Sorenon remarked, shifting his glasses as he glanced at Cæ with curious brown eyes. "All that's left for docking the magic aptitude testing kits and the fencing, and then we're set."
He continued to gaze at Cæ with a hint of anticipation.
Cæ huffed lightly, shaking his head. "Focus, I don't know anything.."
It wasn't just Sorenon who was paying attention to him, either. Many other students in the task force were also paying attention to him with curious eyes. After all, not a single person had failed to hear about the Nelnmont Family rescinding the lawsuit against the Headmistress. It had turned into a source of premium gossip among the students of the Student Council, leaving them remarkably curious about what happened to make a tycoon in the law industry back off against the Headmistress.
Cæ had no intention of telling the truth to any of them, of course.
In fact, he had no intention of even acknowledging that he knew anything about this.
He was content with just letting everybody think that this stuff was way beyond him, as someone who was just a graduate of the apprentice program.
And it was easy to believe.
How could a student who had only studied in the institute for just a year possibly be intimately involved in the political conflict between the Elendir Institute of Magic and the elite family faction?
The surreality of the notion was a godsend for him. Who knew what would happen if the world found out he was responsible for coming up with the strategy that allowed the Headmistress to overcome the Nelnmont Family? The latter had still been under the impression that Cæ was somebody whom he could have his daughter marry.
"And we're just about done, Cæ." Sorenon's remark drew him back to reality.
"Mmm…" Cæ directed a sweeping gaze across the dispatch facility.
All the trucks were ready and packed with the needed supplies of what they needed, while all personnel had completed donning their magigear. The air was pumped with anticipation, elevated by the refreshing bright light of the morning Sun that illuminated the dispatch facility.
Everything was ready.
Cæ nodded with a serious expression. "Time for dispatch."
The task force rapidly boarded the buses of the Elendir Institute of Magic as the giant rolling doors of the dispatch facility opened up.
VRMMM…
The buses and trucks came to life before departing from the Elendir Institute of Magic and heading towards the slums. Cæ gazed out the window as he fell deep into thought, pondering one of the three districts that they were covering that day.
District one hundred and eight of the slums.
Known as the Graveyard within the slums for being adjacent to many of the most influential gangs in the slums. It became the nexus for inter-district and inter-gang violence between different gangs that always found reason to engage in conflict with one another.
Being in the slums was bad enough, but being in a district that served as the battleground for gang violence was even worse.
It was where Cæ had grown up.
And it was the district that had instilled in him a profoundly intense drive to get out of the slums and make it to the top. Perhaps if he had been born in another district, his drive to escape the slums wouldn't have been as strong as it had been. Perhaps he would never have left the slums.
But after seeing how high the quality of life was in the inner city, it drove him to leave the slums as soon as possible, especially his own district.
In many ways, it was the impetus that had redirected the course of his life.
And now, he was revisiting it again after many, many years.
VRMMM…
The convoy had arrived at the slums, slowing down as they fell into a single line formation due to how narrow their paths were. The mages had already emerged from the buses, forming a protective formation around the convoy as it proceeded deeper and deeper into the slums.
With the escalating battles, they could not take anything for granted, including any assurance that the Colohen Mafia wouldn't attack them the very moment they entered the slums.
They couldn't do outside the cover of the slums for that would instantly be treated as an act of terrorism, and the state would deploy the full power of all its investigative and law enforcement agencies and bureaus, as well as some of its most powerful mages to hunt down perpetrators.
But if it happened in the slums, then they would be able to get away with it much more easily.
As they drove deeper and deeper into the slums through various districts, the air grew darker and more dangerous.
It was a natural consequence of the sheer destitution that they bore witness to.
Despite having seen it many times, many of the students still couldn't help but wince and shirk at the sight, perhaps even feeling a little guilty, even if they hadn't contributed to what they had borne witness to as nothing short of a human disaster.
It was truly astonishing to believe that two halves of a city could be so different.
That on one side of a line, you had prosperity and opportunity, and on the other side was nothing but poverty and destitution.
And yet, the inner districts of the slums were still better.
The deeper they went, the more the sense of hopelessness bore down on the atmosphere and on the mood. The quality of the infrastructure degenerated to even lower heights despite how bad they already were.
The environment as a whole continuously degenerated the deeper they went into the slums. The quality of air grew increasingly unpleasant to downright even hazardous, that thanks to the plumes of smoke that could be seen rising into the air, turning ever so slightly opaque to the disinfecting light of the morning Sun.
The paths were littered with garbage and trash, leaving a foul odor lingering in the air in addition to that of the faint trace of smoke.
Cæ's expression grew severe.
His eyes grew more solemn as his body language hardened.
He felt his nerves tingle.
The closer they got to district one hundred and eight, the Graveyard, the more he found himself entering into a heightened state of alertness and seriousness.
He had promised himself he would never return to this place.
He had also promised himself he would never return to the slums, but he broke that promise shortly after waking up from his coma.
He wasn't even sure why he wanted to revisit a place he once called home.
To a certain extent, the opportunity stared him in the face and he took it almost on a whim.
On instinct.
On a superficial level, he truly didn't want to ever set foot in the Graveyard ever again.
But on a deeper level, he felt the need to visit at least one last time after all these years.
VRMMM…
The trucks slowed down upon crossing a dividing line and entering a new district.
They had arrived at their location.
Cæ's eyes sharpened as he directed a gaze out the windows with a deep breath, taking in what he saw.
"It hasn't changed."
His gaze swept across a series of decrepit and half-destroyed little buildings that stretched on both sides of the eroded paths of the district as far as he could see.
This was not the unusual part.
The unusual part was the fact of the surprising abundance of street vendors, cart pullers, and even little run-down stalls and shacks that dotted the place. Men and women set up shop for food, clothes, along with illegal goods and services such as drugs and even magiguns, as well as a bunch of other items from different places across the entire district.
The arrival of their convoy drew many a suspicious and distrustful eye from the locals, half of whom scattered at the very sight of the convoy.
VRMMM…
The convoy parked itself in an abandoned space large enough to fit all the trucks and buses of the convoy in formation.
"This…" Sorenon's eyes widened with surprise, shifting his glasses as he studied the little commercial set-ups across the street, where they had stopped. "…I thought you told me that this place was called the Graveyard."
"It is," Cæ remarked as he got up, disembarking the bus along with the others. "Let's get to work and quickly."
"The people of the district seem much more averse to our presence than those of all the districts that we visited before," one of the students of the task force murmured with an uncertain expression as she began unboxing the magic aptitude testing kits.
"That's because only the gangs of the surrounding districts have automobiles, and they only bring so many with them when they bring a lot of members, and they only bring a lot of their members when…" he directed a severe gaze at her. "…when they're about to wage a war."
Sorenon grew uncomfortable as he directed a fearful gaze at the various approaching men with unfriendly expressions. "…There seem to be more gang members in this place than in other districts."
"The Street Wolves, the Drips, the Bloodmounts, and the Spikers," Cæ remarked with a serious tone. "Those are the four gangs that have a substantial presence in this district. And rest assured…"
He directed a knowing gaze at them.
"They are not intimidated by magic like the smaller gangs in the shallower parts of the slums."
STEP STEP STEP…!
A large number of men wearing black clothes with red bands on both wrists rapidly drew closer to the convoy.
They were armed to the teeth.
Their expressions were unfriendly as their menacing glares converged straight upon the convoy.
"Do not approach."
The security team of the convoy had already taken place, both the non-magic and magetant security teams had already mobilized, the former on foot on the ground while the latter floated in the air above them.
The air boiled as the men drew closer and closer, uncaring of the deterrent from the warning of the security teams.
"What the hell are you fuckers doing in our territory?!" the man at the very forefront growled with a feral voice. "You have any fucking idea who the fuck we are?"
His eyes grew bloodshot with ferocity.
"You think you can just waltz in here with weapons like nobody's business."
His expression grew even more intense.
"You dare to command me not to approach in my own fucking town?"
The air boiled with tension.
The atmosphere grew electric with danger.
Despite clearly having noticed the mages floating in the air, brandishing their wands threateningly, they didn't seem to care. The leader at the very forefront, a grizzled, scarred middle-aged man with a gun in one hand and a magical artifact in another, glared at the security team.
"Leave all the valuables and get the fuck out of here."
Naturally, it wasn't something that the task force could possibly accept.
"Leave this place and we will spare your lives," the captain of the security team retorted with an intense tone.
Neither side was willing to compromise.
That left only one option.