city-of-whispers-webnovel

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

3RD OCTOBER 2016: IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

I’m afraid City of Whispers may be on hiatus until I can devote a lot of attention to it.

The same goes to Sum of Nothing, which itself was just a side project for fun. 

But I'm pleased to announce that City of Whispers, as was intended from the start, is to be part of a larger collection of stories all set in the same verse, using the same mythos and worldbuilding; the Outréverse.

"Outré" is a synonym for eccentric that means:

unusual and typically rather shocking.

Which fits the ideas the stories go for; there is a concept of Non-Casters, but while most are 'unattuned' to the world the stories take place in, those that do 'attune' are shocked by the stuff they find. 

Now, City of Whispers will, as stated from the outset of this post, not be coming off of hiatus for a long time. For now, though, allow me to detail the other stories I will be working on throughout the course of this verse's lifetime. So far, I have had four ideas I found fit to turn into full projects - all so far, however, are unnamed

1. This first story is a side-project I started alongside City of Whispers, an experimental kind of storytelling, a CYOA-style project where reblogs and likes chose the outcome of the next entry, each around a hundred or two hundred words long, yet it didn't take off. The project follows a Caster with enough power to destroy the world - the person in question is very cynical and has a bleak view of the world; the only reason it hasn't been destroyed yet is because their friends have so far kept them under control. 

2. An organized crime syndicate works in the shadows to orchestrate a series of events that will bring them power in the world, and as they do so they discover some shocking facts that may reveal an already-corrupt government threatening to throw the world into a new totalitarian dark age.

3. A group of Non-Casters suddenly find out that they have powers that they never realized they had; excited by the prospect of what their new powers do, the newfound Casters decide to form a street gang. However, around this same time, it seems they were not the only group to which this had happened, and they soon find themselves in trouble with rival gangs across the city. 

4. A group of delinquent students at a school for Casters are caught out trying to pull a nasty prank on a fellow student and are made to take on community service in a field they have no experience in; spirit hunting.

The last project is the one I will be writing first because it seems like the easiest for me to write. There is no ETA on when the project will start releasing, but for now, please hang in there.

-- Shiru --

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

CITY OF WHISPERS HIATUS (AUGUST 16TH -- ??)

Sorry.

I understand I only posted one page before disappearing off of the face of the earth but I never stopped with this, I didn’t slow down and before I knew it it became a chore.

I stopped feeling it; but I’m not abandoning it. I’ve put too much into this to abandon it now. For now, though, you should turn your attention to another project I have picked up and am writing at this moment over at Royal Road;

The Sum Of Nothing Is Zero And That Is Exactly What Everything Becomes

Die. And then reset. But Tsukino Kanon doesn’t know this is happening. If she can’t remember what happens before she resets, how will she escape death?

In the end, all returns to zero.

Fic contains: Graphic violence, swearing, disturbing scenes

A really long title for what is currently a short fic, but it is what it is.

The fic itself is very much centered around repeating stuff; like Groundhog Day, All You Need Is Kill/Edge of Tomorrow, or Re:Zero, but the protagonist can’t remember their mistakes; instead, it seems much like their friend can...

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

AUTHOR BLOG 2 - 20/06/16

IT IS DONE.

After waiting for a while for my muse to come back, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

And now. The next page is up. Two months late! Sorry about that!

Anyway, forget what I said about the six hundred words thing. I may need another six hundred to finish this up, or maybe more, I don’t know.

The result of that, though, would be that the next page WILL be shorter than the 1200 word quota for one page, When it is done, I may post that page as it is - but the next time I post a page, I may compile the entire investigation arc into one or two posts. It’s about 10K words in length, so very lengthy, so I might not - and probably won’t, but it is an idea. Anyway, the next arc is going to be much more interesting, and maybe faster? I don’t know the specifics and everything will be addressed when I write it. 

But this point in the story, in my mind, was weird.

I don’t know if I discussed this before, not on a blog post, but, here I go, trying to explain this.

I noticed a while back that I was nearing the 10k mark, but had made no real progress in the story. This is... about 1/5 of an average novel, and nothing had happened. Of course, this is a webnovel, so it isn’t average, but my vision for the first act, at least, was to have the entire thing done in 50k.

But on my plan, this whole bit, the investigation arc, I planned to be around 4k, 5k at most, in length. As it stands, it’ll be over 10k before I finish it. I’m almost around 9400 words. At this point, I planned to be 1/5 through the entire arc. I’m still at the very start!

I have a flowchart document with major events on it - I’m still at the first box of events, the “investigation into Barranax” box. That’s out of... maybe around 20 boxes? That isn’t counting off-shoot boxes with sidestories that run underneath, which would account for around 7k, 8k words, I’d assume. 

However, when I was writing it, I thought I was writing it really fast - faster than I expected to be writing it. I realised after looking at the flowchart, I was writing it slower than I had thought!! 

Well, that’s just a funny little occurence I thought I could write about this month.

And for now, I’ll give you a quick preview of the next arc’s story!

Joanna realises she needs to be stronger if she wants to survive, after meeting the newest member of the Society, a girl around her age that is much stronger than her... Who is this new character, and why did she betray her old friends?

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

ACT 1; PAGE 7

People are resources… what? “What kind of holier-than-thou bullshit are you spouting here?” I’m swearing, I’m angry, my voice is continually raising. But throughout it all, I can’t help but question myself. I’m sure, if it came to it, I’m just like them. I’m just one of them, a killer. No. No, not a killer. Calling them a killer, a murderer, whatever I can think of, calling them something like that doesn’t sound right to me. But I haven’t a clue what the word should be. I do not understand these people. I’m going to need time to understand them. I don’t— I don’t even understand myself, it seems. Ah, man. This is going to be a problem. Sykes sighs as he taps me on the shoulder. “Listen, I know you’re angry. A lot of people will be, but they just don’t think about it. It’s hard, letting people die. I know it is. We all know it is, but the more you think on it, the worse it gets.” He might be right. He probably is right. “Death is common in this world, you’ll come to know that soon enough. I’m sorry you had to witness all that, but… that’s all natural here.” Is it really all that natural? I don’t know what to think here. A world where killing people is natural? Where letting them die is natural? Or is it just because of my line of work? “This is… this is taking me a while to process. Will I really need to kill someone?”

I don’t know what I expect the answer to be. I hope it isn’t what I think it will be. “Hopefully, you won’t. But the chances that it’ll come down to it aren’t particularly slim. I’m sorry, Joanna, but you will need to be prepared to kill someone eventually.” Sykes’ tone is grave, and I can grasp the sincerity of his apology from just the way he speaks. He knows I don’t want to kill anyone, but he knows I’ll have to. I know I’ll have to. It’s only a matter of accepting that now. “Listen, Joanna, we do not have time to waste. We need to get these back to Alfred, have him find someone who can examine them. Anchor, do you think Karen is up to that task?” Anchor shrugs. “Beats me. Girl is a genius but she’s not always ready to work. Hey, she’s been damn vicious recently.” Man, this jerk is insensitive. “Hey, Anchor, for gods’ sake, can you be any less caring?” “Nope.” I want to slap him. I really, really, really want to slap him. But Sykes is right. We do need to get this back to someone that can examine it. And who better than Karen anyway? She is the technology specialist; she must know something or other that could help with this. Is she a scientist too? I don’t know, come to think of it, but if Sykes would ask to see if she could help, I would assume she is; either that, or she has some knowledge that could at least help her get around in a scientific scenario or something. So, the next port of call is waiting for an examination of the samples we have retrieved. Okay, that sounds quite calm. I don’t think it will be that calm, mind you, but it should be pretty calm. For now, I should just focus on the next action. “Shall we take these to Karen for now, then?” I ask, receiving a nod from Sykes and some sort of grunt from Anchor. Not that I expected much else from him, anyway. With this unanimous decision, we set off, first to return to Sykes’ house. Or, that’s what I think we’re doing. “Hey, are we going to get changed first?” Sykes nods again, confirming my thoughts. Good, I don’t particularly like the outfit I’m wearing right now anyway. I much prefer the outfit I had before, it looks so much nicer. I notice a few things on the journey back that I didn’t notice before; like the fact that all the houses on one street have the exact same white door, or on another street there is one family that STILL has their Christmas lights up. It’s March twenty-third. Christmas lights. On March twenty-third. Someone is really insane. I’m in the middle of making a mental note of which houses are likely the best to avoid when Sykes starts to speak to me. “… you at?” I missed most of what he was saying, though. I was busy, pre-occupied with all of that. Damn. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” I ask, in the nicest, most polite way I possibly can. And yet I still get a sigh from Sykes. Sighkes. Oh, no, that was bad. That was a REALLY bad pun. “Oh, you’re with us now. Never mind me, I was seeing if you were occupied or not, is all.” Ah, I see. Well, that can’t have been any worse of a response to have given him, in that case. Considering he’s a telepath too, I guess thinking about it isn’t good. [Not at all, young lady.] Fuck. Okay. I’m done with this. Sykes, get the hell out of my mind, okay. Leave me be, damnit! Of course, he nods. He won’t get out of my head, he’s probably having a field trip there. I must safely say this has been a stressful day. Someone died, god. How bad could this day get? Hopefully it can’t get any worse? But saying that, it probably will. After all, I have to work with ANCHOR. Sykes lets out a chuckle. Of course. “Hey, come on, I’ve asked you, stay out of my head! It’s the only place I can be truly alone right now!” I protest, and he just laughs more. By the time we get back to Sykes’ house and finish changing, I would put the time at around 5:30pm. The sun will set soon, and we still have to get back to the headquarters. Well, I suppose sunset won’t be for maybe half an hour, or more, but it isn’t far off. I guess we could do it, easy. I just need to give these clothes back to Sykes and wait for Ancho—

“Hey, Joanna, hurry the fuck up!” “Anchor, watch your language. My wife is working!”

 A small snapshot, two people talking, outside the door. The first voice confirmed to be Anchor and the second unmistakably Sykes’. And me, a young girl, caught up in a job she’d never expect to be in, in some… miraculous world. Or some messed up world, I don’t know. People die everywhere, but I never expected to see death today. Not on my first day. And those voices, without faces attached… They’re the voices of murderers, right? I should come off of this topic. It isn’t pretty, it’s tricky, I don’t know what to think. Mind on the mission, that’s how I need to be. But it’s hard, isn’t it? To keep my mind on the mission. It’s hard, it’s weird, I don’t know. I don’t like it. Having to keep hush about death, I don’t like it. Isn’t there paperwork to file for this stuff? Will I have to testify to this? I don’t know, and it’s just… scary, I guess. To think like this. I’ll need to be careful what I say and do, anyway.

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

CITY OF WHISPERS HIATUS (MAY 15TH 2016 - JUNE 20TH 2016)

The project has returned, but for sake of integrity, I’ll leave the original text of this post below.

So, I’ll get straight to it.

I’m stuck. I thought I knew what I was doing with this, but I’m stuck.

I’m halfway through the next entry, and have been for a month. Six hundred words, and I need six hundred more. But I am stuck - I do not know what to do with this.

The investigation arc is almost at a close, and with it, the Diamonds arc is soon to finish, moving into the next part of the story.

But before I get into the next part of the Diamonds arc, I need to finish this last post. But with six hundred words still to write, I do not know what to do. I am almost done, yet it is hard to write any more.

Then you add in personal situations. I am still just a college student, and I’m taking three work-heavy courses. Exams are coming up, with my first tomorrow. They won’t be finished until June 9th - I have one next week (tomorrow), two the week after, then a week’s break. In the fourth week, I have three exams. I’m overworked, and unable to prioritise this right now.

So, until further notice, the project is going on hiatus. It may be that it returns after June 9th, it may be that it returns later. I might pursue other projects afterwards, I do not know.

I shall finish up this page, however, but it may mean releasing it with fewer words than usual. I do not want to have a timeskip - as I have planned - in a page. I’d rather there be a page end, then a timeskip. It’s only three days in the CoW timeline, but it’s still big, to me. A few hours, too, would be a problem.

Well, that’s all, for now.

I’ll get back to this as soon as I can.

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Author Blog #1: 21/4/16

So, here’s a new segment I’ll be doing every Thursday the week a new page is released. It’s a small little blog post that will be about whatever I decide to write about!

This installment, however, is CoW-related, so it’s quite relevant.

I’ve been planning CoW since Christmas 2015, and it’s the most dedicated I’ve ever been to a project. I have tons of files on my laptop all about it, from mundane information sheets to a table that records how much I’ve written of a specific part in the story, when it happens chronologically, and how many words that part is. 

The factsheets are the important article here, though. A lot of things have changed, but a lot of things have stayed the same too!

But the changes are much more numerous. First, Joanna was supposed to be seventeen, but I changed this to nineteen somewhere when I started writing it. An older character that’s still quite young works best here, in my opinion. This difference means that all of my notes about Joanna are now wrong because they list her as seventeen. Karen was supposed to be wholly German, but she became half-British at around her second character revision, so some of my notes are conflicting because some will refer to her as being German! Sykes’ surname was originally spelled Sikes, and he was a much different character. Very business-oriented, always wearing a suit. When I started writing him, then, he changed a lot. It’s interesting seeing how Sykes and Sikes are similar people, but also two very, very different people! Alfred is about ten, twenty years older now. The Committee of 3000 WAS supposed to be just 3000 people before but when I started to write it up in the terms glossary, the numbers swelled slightly. It’s maybe at around 3300 people now!

Those are just some of the changes I’ve made to it so far, I guess. It’ll be fun seeing how it changes in the future!

Also, I have massively updated the blog now. In addition to a much nicer theme, information is spread all over the blog. Eventually, I might include secret pages that... may be hard to get to, but who knows? The rewards for doing so will be worth it, hopefully.

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1; Page 6

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your bags in a minute. Don’t rush us.” The taller male replies, reaching into his bag. Oh, right, I never mentioned that, either. They both have bags, rucksacks. I didn’t think it would warrant a mention, but it seems like it does. Well, whatever, I’ve mentioned it.

Instead of pulling out three smaller bags, like I would have expected, the taller male pulls out just one smaller bag, and he hands it over. Sykes takes it, and he stands there, waiting for the second and third bag.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting, for a while.

“Huh? What are you doing? You’ve got the stuff, now go!”

Sykes just shakes his head. “This is just one bag, you know.” He responds, his tone calm. It’s true, it’s just one bag. The taller male looks visibly angered, while the smaller male tries to pull him away from us, saying he should give us the other two bags.

But the taller male isn’t having any of it, and he turns around to the smaller male.

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.” He scowls, pushing the smaller male, Sam, away.

“Listen, Vinnie, just give them what they want, okay? What if they have powers?” Sam responds, a hint of terror in his voice. The taller male, who I guess is called Vinnie – is that short for anything? Whatever, I don’t care. He pushes Sam away again. Sam sighs. “I don’t want to fight you, Vinnie, but I don’t want to fight them either!” “Sam, I told you to shut the fuck up. When I say you do something, you fucking do it!” Vinnie roars, pinning Sam against the wall.

I turn to Sykes, who looks at the two, and he holds a hand up as soon as Anchor moves in.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” I ask, but Sykes shakes his head.

But why not? They’re criminals, for a start, and then they’re fighting, so someone is going to get hurt! Why wouldn’t you arrest them, Sykes?

“I can hear you, Joanna.” Damn you, Sykes.

“I’m not going to arrest them because we can use this to our advantage. They want to fight, we can sneak off with the bag in the middle of it.”

But just as soon as he finishes saying that, there’s an ungodly yelp, and I see Vinnie pull a knife out of Sam.

He stabbed Sam. Vinnie stabbed Sam, and Sam is bleeding, and now Vinnie is about to cut Sam’s throat.

“Told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

Vinnie is a cold-hearted person. Before my eyes, someone is going to die. Because we didn’t step in to do anything.

Dead. Sam is dead. Because of Vinnie. No, because of us. Sykes curses under his breath, before hurling himself at Vinnie, tackling him to the ground.

Anchor is standing there, like this is all natural to him.

Like they’ve seen this before. Like they’ve let people die before. Is this what I need to get used to? I don’t think I could. They were criminals, but they hadn’t… they hadn’t done anything. Sam hadn’t done anything.

Anchor is leading me away, while Sykes punches Vinnie. I hear a crack; is that his nose, his jaw? His skull? I don’t know. But I’m being lead away by someone I don’t know all that well.

“Sorry you had to see that, I guess. Better get used to it, though, Rookie.”

I shrug him off, and take a step away from him. “Get used to it, huh? Letting people die like that, isn’t that the opposite of what the police do?”

Anchor sighs, and turns me around to face him.

“Listen, kid, we ain’t the police. We’re under special jurisdiction, but we’re not police. We ain’t above the law, but also we are. Anything we do on-duty goes unnoticed if we have a good reason to do it.”

Right, I see. They can murder if they can come up with a good reason. What is that about?

“Letting that boy die, there, we needed to do that. If Sykes can’t come up with a good reason to explain it, though, then he’ll lose his job. We’re safe, we’re under his command right now.”

So we’re shifting accountability onto him? No, no, we could have stopped that.

“You could have stopped that, Anchor. I could have stopped that.”

Anchor shakes his head. “We’re weaponless. He had a knife.”

“You have powers.”

“Sykes stopped me. I can’t disobey direct orders.”

“Someone died!” My voice raises, and I realize I’m shouting.

This isn’t good. People are looking. Anchor grabs me and walks off, making sure to signal Sykes as we pass him. He seems to understand the situation, grabbing Vinnie’s bag and leaving. Looks like he’s called in the police to make an arrest.

“You’re all criminals, the whole lot of you. You’re no better than they are.” I snarl, struggling to escape Anchor’s grip. He then stands me in front of him, firmly. I couldn’t escape if I tried.

There is a sharp slapping sound, and my cheek stings.

“Get some fucking sense, girl. People die every day, you can’t save everyone. Not everyone is a fucking hero, we have to let people die. Forget your god damn savior complex, it won’t help you at all.”

That’s Anchor’s voice. He’s growling underneath it all.

I can’t tell what stings worse. His words or his slap.

“We do what we do because we have to, it isn’t pretty for us, either, seeing people die. But if we have to kill someone, we do it, too. Sykes had his reasoning for letting the boy die.”

I snarl at them again. “You can’t have a reason for letting someone die, that’s insane!”

But Sykes cuts me off. “There’s a time and place for everything, Joanna, but just think about this for now. If you can’t think of a reason for why I would do this, I’ll explain later. But know this; I’ll let a friend die if it means the mission will be successful. Justice and villainy aren’t as clear-cut as you think they are. We’re not heroes. We’re not villains. We’re still citizens, no matter how you look at it.”

I sigh and turn around. I simply can’t process this, no matter how much I think.  Is there really a need to let people die? Are people really just resources in this world? Or have I always been too close-minded to think any other way?

Now I’m doubting myself. What is wrong with this? This whole situation… it makes no sense. What’s wrong with me? Am I the problem here? I know people die every day, but I never thought one of my colleagues would let someone die for their cause. Just what kind of work am I doing here?

I need to think about this. Why would Sykes let the boy die?

Why?

Why?

Why?

I can’t think of anything. I can’t think of why someone would let someone die. I must be the anomaly here. Is this really common practice with the law? What am I doing here if that is the case?

But this isn’t the law. I know that. They said that. This is clandestine. Above the law. Sometimes completely illegal. But with permission. This is confusing. And scary. I want no part of it. What do I do here?

“I cannot think of a reason as to why anyone would let someone die.” I respond.

To which I get my answer. And it is not one I like.

“People are resources. Everyone is a means to an end, whether you like it or not. You’ll find those at the highest point of the chain are orchestrating everyone’s lives in a way that benefits them. You just need to accept that.”

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1; Page 5

<-- Page 4

Sykes paces towards the closet - which, truth be told, was something I had not noticed before. He opens it, and I lean forward, trying to get a look at what is inside. But it looks totally empty to me. So why did he open it?

And it's like he knows exactly what I'm thinking - no, no, he does know exactly what I'm thinking. He's the telepath, here. And a skilled one at that. But he turns to me, he looks at me.

"There's nothing in here, you're right. But that doesn't mean there won't be." He explains, before walking inside. "You see, magic has practical uses too."

And still I'm confused. What does he mean, practical use?  I haven't a clue honestly. Well, I suppose I'll find out soon - he closes the door, and after a while, he walks straight back out, a package in hand.

"Clothes, for a disguise of sorts. Do you really want to turn up looking like you do now? Your outfits-- No, Joanna, just your outfit is too formal."

Formal? I'm not wearing anything that formal, I'm sure. I never really looked at what outfit I'd picked out this morning, but looking at myself now, I can see I'm wearing a white button-up shirt, a pleated skirt, gray in colour, that stops just short of the knees, and black tights-- Perhaps this is a little formal.

"As for you, Anchor, that outfit is too practical. Were they to see you in that, would they think you were ready to fight?"  Sykes questions, and I can't help but nod. It's true, whatever Anchor is wearing definitely looks like a battle outfit. Well, it seems we're both failing here.

"Fighting the dealers isn't our goal here, so you should change. Here, take these." Sykes gives some of the clothes he's carrying to Anchor, and the rest to me. "Go, get changed. You can leave your clothes here, pick them up later. One of you can use the next room, and I'll leave."

And with that, he's gone. Anchor leaves - so I guess he's using the next room. Well, as soon as that door is closed, I start to strip, before changing into the clothes supplied; a plain black zip-up hoodie, perhaps a size too big (not that it matters), and a pair of navy jeans, which themselves are more or less a nice fit. Overall, these clothes are quite comfortable, but they aren't something I would exactly choose myself. Well, all things considered, they look rather casual and I would guess a lot of people on the street would wear something like this. I guess Sykes has a point, telling me that I was dressed up too formally.

I hear a voice call from downstairs - again, Sykes is the one to speak. He's asking if we're ready, to which I hear Anchor call back that he needs a minute. Oh well, I might as well go and talk to him. Down the stairs I go, and back into the living room.

"So you're the new Society kid, huh?" He questions, his face not showing any specific expression. I nod, and stretch a hand out to him. I expect him to shake it, but instead he high-fives me. Well, I'm not all that surprised, I guess.

"You have your work cut out for you, kid. Anchor and Karen joined a few years ago, and I'm sure they've seen more than enough of the supernatural for a few lifetimes." He jokes, his lips now curling upwards at the ends.

"Can you tell me how Anchor and Karen joined?" I ask, curious about their origins.

"Sure. They joined a year after Lucas; Anchor was twenty-two, out of work, struggling to find a job. Alfred noticed his potential, and drafted him in alongside Karen, who was just like you; fresh out of college at the time. They were both drafted in with the idea of gathering information - Karen is a genius with technology, and Anchor was a genius at intimidation. Karen never developed any skills but still found herself embroiled with the supernatural, with this world. She's definitely something special."

Well. That wasn't nearly as exciting as I would have hoped. Damn.

In the time it has taken for Sykes to tell me about how he was drafted into the group, Anchor has returned; and he's impatient, wanting to set off as soon as we can. Sykes obliges, standing up from his seat - and I follow, rising from mine too. As a group, we move towards the door, and Sykes tells his wife he is leaving. Then he opens the door, and he lets us out, following close behind. Anchor is the first to speak up after him.

"Are we taking your car, or are we walking?" He asks, and Sykes shrugs.

"We should walk. It isn't too far, and going in a car like mine probably wouldn't look too good." He replies, and he sets off in whatever direction he's setting off towards. East, north, whatever, I can't tell. Honestly, my only worry right now is how out of place I look next to two fully-grown men. Also how... unexciting this mission has been, so far. Maybe I'm just asking a lot, though.

I follow Sykes, noticing that Anchor has also set off. This isn't a good start, either; I'm already a little behind and making a fool of myself. I should try to perhaps pay more attention to my surroundings, I guess. Well, I might as well take this time to actually see where I am, too, anyway!  A street, of course, and it doesn’t look too unnatural. Unnatural? Maybe supernatural is the right word. Well, this whole world itself is confusing. Normal. The street looks normal. That's all I can say about it, for now. There are houses, they're clean, nothing is trying to attack me. It's perfectly normal!

Maybe I'm worried too much. But what am I worried for? I always wished for a change from the normal, from my life. I've finally got it - so why am I always on edge, all of the time? Is there really something to be worried about? Is it because I'm working with some kind of police force? Didn't I always want to go into law?

No, no, I'm sure it's because what we're doing now could potentially border on illegal. And that's something I'm going to need to learn to handle if I am to continue working with these people. Their methods aren't always legal; in fact, some of them may fall way outside the line of the law. In the end, it's a test of morals. And my morals... they tell me what I'm doing is wrong, but I'm betraying them and going on anyway.

That's enough monologuing, though. I didn't even pay attention to my surroundings again - and now we're at our destination, according to Sykes. It's a typical dealing spot, I guess. A dark alley in the middle of the city. It doesn't look too shabby, but it certainly isn't a nice place to be. My chest feels a little heavy, and I'm sure I'm slightly scared.

But sure enough, two men in similar outfits to ours are approaching from the other end of the alley, bag in hand. Do we need to pay with money? I don't see any money on Sykes, or on Anchor. And I certainly didn't bring any.

"Hey, you've brought it all, right? The agreed amount?"

That's Sykes' voice. I'll let him do the talking.

"Of course we did, what kind of sham did you take us for?"

The taller of the two men. Well, judging from his voice, calling him a man may not be so apt. He sounds to be around my age -- that is, a teenager.

"Good, then what's the price?"

Sykes, again.

"You pay in blood. Two drops."

The smaller male. He sounds a little younger. A kid? No, that's impossible.

"Six in total, it seems. Hey, Lucy, get over here."

Who's Lucy? I don't know a Lucy-- oh. I'm Lucy, right. I should listen more. We're not using our real names, are we? I walk over to where Sykes and Anchor are - and I wonder if I should have followed. Sykes holds out his arm, and the taller of the two males pulls a knife out, dragging across Sykes' wrist. The smaller boy has a small vial - no, it's better to say he has a collection of small vials, some full, some not.

He holds it to the wound, fresh, open. Sykes presses it against it, and he allows two drops of blood to trickle in. Is this how they pay? In blood, like that?

I'm not going to like this.

The smaller boy closes the top of the vial, and pulls out another one, before the process is repeated with Anchor.

Which now only leaves me. I have to give blood to them. To someone I don't know. To buy drugs.

I don't want to. But my arm moves of its own accord - held out, wrist upwards. And I can feel the knife dragging across it, cutting, severing flesh from flesh. It stings, it burns. And my blood trickles out. Slowly, but it feels like the worst thing in the world.

It hurts, and I don't want to do it. My teeth are gritted and it's taking all my willpower not to instinctively pull away. I can't do this.

But Sykes puts his hand on my shoulder - perhaps trying to reassure me. I'm sure I'm shaking.

It's soon over.

"So, give us the stuff. Three bags. That's what we agreed on."

Page 6 -->

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1; Page 4

<-- Page 3

I was surprised, actually, by the appearance of the man that I assumed to be Jonathon Sykes. He was a large man upwards, which didn't matter much to me, but he was also a scruffy man. His hair was short, yet unkempt, and he was unshaven, too. I suppose, though, that it fit the look of "older police detective".  He held himself in a powerful manner, however - upright and straight, which was more than could be said for some people I had seen recently. His appearance, however, wasn't as surprising as his house was.

The first thing I notice after walking inside, was that while his house seems bland Iand common from the outside, the inside decorations are anything but. Expensive vases, large paintings, even fancy chandeliers are scattered about in the living room and, I assume the rest of the house. It seems to be a common trend with these people - bland corridors, expensive furnishing inside. Maybe it's a thing about keeping a secret identity, who knows? Either way, it bothers me somehow. But, I can at least commend Sykes for keeping his entry corridor lit. Points to him, I suppose.

Sykes motions for Anchor and I to sit down. Anchor is the first to do so, while Sykes follows. Anchor, naturally, chooses the couch - which would likely be the comfiest place to sit. Sykes, however, picks a chair in the corner of the room, and I go along with Anchor on sitting on the couch. "Good morning to the two of you." Sykes greets us with formality and hospitality.

Hang on. Aren't "older police detectives", especially those in the vein of Sykes', supposed to sound gruff? He doesn't seem like that at all! I feel betrayed. So very, very betrayed... Honestly! What is wrong with him? He isn't a REAL detective! He's a fraud! I fraud, I tell you! I bet he isn't even old!

"I'm thirty-two, young lady."

And I forgot he was a telepath. Oh my god, he was listening to my thoughts. He heard me. He heard me calling him a fraud. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This is absolutely awful! I didn't mean it, I swear! I mean... I was just joking, that's all. Of course I was, why would I insult you like that?

"Young lady... first, what is your name?"

I'm Joanna. Wait. Maybe I should say that out loud.

"I'm Joanna. I'm a telepath, like you... So, uhm, you should forget about all of that!"

I turn to Anchor and practically beg him. "He should forget about that, shouldn't he, Anchor?" But Anchor looks absolutely clueless.

"The fuck are you on about, kid? I'm fucking confused, the hell are you doing?" Good old Anchor has my back!

"No he doesn't."

I sigh, my shoulders lowering. "Mr Sykes, please... Can you tell us about the Barranax drug? What do you know?" I mean... if Anchor will not get to the point, I might as well. It may seem like I'm trying to change the subject to save my own hide, but... I assure you, that really isn't the case. I just want to get on with THIS case. Sykes nods, and he stands up, beckoning for the both of us to do so, too. Again, Anchor is the first of us to do so, and I follow him. As we do this, Sykes begins to walk out of the living room, and up the stairs; we follow, and he takes us into a room that itself is rather empty. The only thing of note would be a board in the corner of the room with an abundance of notes on it. So, I guess this is the room where Sykes keeps all his information on his cases. That isn't too shabby, Sykes.  The man in question walks over to the board, and flips up the first sheet. Behind it is a sheet with even more notes. Anchor flicks on the light switch, giving a dim, flickering yellow tint to the room, making it ever so slightly brighter. I myself study the notes on the board, and then look to Sykes.

"The Barranax drug. It's a drug that enhances one's magical capabilities, as far as we are concerned. You can see why this would be dangerous, no?"

I shake my head. I haven't been aware of this part of the world long enough to really understand the true intricacies of magic, so I cannot see why this can be entirely all that bad. I guess I'll have to find out. "I'm afraid magic isn't my strong point."

Sykes nods back, before turning to Anchor. "Anchor, your power is what, exactly?"

Anchor looks back to Sykes, a painfully confused expression on his face. "Johnathon, you already kno-- oh. I see.  Why didn't you tell me sooner? My power is water-based magic. I can draw water from almost anywhere, use it as a weapon, the like. Yes, even the damn human body."

Even the body? I suppose that would make Anchor quite dangerous. I can see why he's an agent, now. But I wonder if there are any drawbacks to that? Perhaps not - he might be more trained than I am. Ah, I maybe could have mentioned that. My telepathy... I can't use it too much, or else I'll get a super bad headache, and... it isn't great, you know?

"I ain't gonna show you, else I'd probably wreck something, but you'll see it soon enough."

Magic is dangerous in general, then, I would assume. That would make sense.

"So... Barranax is a problem because it means magic can become even more dangerous?" I inquire, looking to the board. Sykes shakes his head, however, and flips the page again.

"Barranax is a problem because magic is quite unstable. There is a chance that Anchor may not be able to control the water he draws; there is a chance his power could mess up, in any number of ways. Take a fire hydrant, for example. If Anchor goes wrong in even the slightest way, it could explode because there would be too much pressure."

I see. So magic is dangerous, powerful, but also unstable. Magic users have to be careful in what they do.

"And the stronger magic is... the more unstable it becomes. And the more people get hurt?"

Sykes nods. "Bingo. And Barranax is becoming a problem because the dealers know how to sell it in abundance. We're talking large-scale trading across the streets of London, across England. Maybe even further afield. So far, there are no reports of Barranax in America, in Europe, in Asia... but there could be. We just can't tell right now." He sighs, and turns to face a map on the wall - a map of London, with some areas marked in red. "These are the areas that are a hotspot for Barranax dealing. We have reason to believe a gang called The Diamonds are at the forefront of this trade. This means you'll need to keep your wits about you if you are going to investigate further."

I look at the map, trying to memorise the areas that are marked. Sykes carries on with his speech. "I'd recommend that, for now, you try and obtain some Barranax. That way, we can figure out exactly what it is... how to identify it, what is in it. All that, it can be important to an investigation. We won't be able to track the source, or, I don't think we will, but it doesn't mean we cannot figure some of the biggest mysteries here."

I nod, then look to Anchor. "How are we going to go about doing this?"

Anchor turns to me, a glare on his face. "Told you, there ain't a 'we'. There's me, there's you, and I don't want to accept that yet." I sigh, and turn back to Sykes. "Do you have a plan?"

Sykes closes the door to the room. "I do. The three of us will pose as Barranax customers at a pre-negotiated trade. The trade is set to take place at midday, twelve o'clock. I'll take you two there, and you'll try to complete the deal. Got it?"

I nod, and Anchor gives a grunt of approval.

Okay, so we're doing this.

--> Page 5

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1; Page 3

<-- Page 2

"What? I'm partnering with her?" Anchor exclaims, slamming his fists onto the table.

Alfred nods, not flinching at Anchor's outburst. "Yes, Anchor, you are. Is there a problem with that?"

He looks scary, his eyes are sharp and he's standing up tall. I can feel the tension between the two of them, and I don't like it.

But I am more curious about something else; does Anchor not get along with girls? I wonder why that is, honestly. Well, not that it matters. He's gross anyway. The sooner we can finish the job, the better for me.

Either way, he backs down when he sees that Alfred won't. "Fine, then. Fine, I'll work with her." he responds through gritted teeth.  I sigh, more out of relief than anything else, and look at him.

"I don't want to work with you either, but an order is an order, I am afraid." I tell him, shrugging as I do. He just looks away.  This is probably going to be hard. At the least, I know for a fact that the day is going to be long.

"Let's go." he says, his voice straightforward but flat. I'm not in any mood to disagree, so I walk to the door silently. He follows, and I let him walk through first. After all, he knows where to go. I'm just the new recruit, of course. I doubt he even wants to be here in the first place, the more I get to know him. But then again, maybe that's just how he is. I'm not one to judge.

Anyway, this dark corridor is always going to creep me out. I follow Anchor, himself walking fast, outside of the building, trying not to think much of it. It isn't that I am afraid of the dark - I'm not, before you even THINK that - it's just that there is someone really odd about that one area of the building in general. I really need to convince them to get some lighting in there. Not even a window! Not one! Who BUILDS a place like that, anyway? Is this the dark ages? I honestly cannot begin to comprehend how... how stupid people can be.

As we leave the building, though, I make sure to get a good look at the surroundings. Hopefully, I'll remember where this is. Anchor, at least, seems to know, so should we return together, I won't have any trouble finding it. But maybe I should take a picture of it instead.

I reach for my phone in my bag, and pull it out, only to see that my childhood friend has left us, and that I probably will be seeing him in the afterlife.

"God DAMNIT!"

My sudden outburst prompts a glance from Anchor, who asks what's wrong.

"My god damn... my god damn phone died, that's what's wrong!" I exclaim in exasperation, receiving a chortle from Anchor. The jerk!

"Your phone... is dead... and you're angry about that? Bahahaha, what the hell ARE you?" He's teasing me. He's god damn teasing me. Who does that?

"I needed to take a picture of the area, you know. This building isn't EASY to find, is it?"

He just shrugs. "Well, whatever. I'm sure you can take a selfie later. For now, let's just get the damn job done. I want to see if you're really as useful as Lucas and Alfred say."

I sigh. I'm not even going to rise to his level; giving him that satisfaction would be my own defeat. Instead, I'll definitely show him just how useless he is, and how amazing I am. I am the born and raised telepath here, the one that used her powers every chance she got. Yes, even to cheat on tests. If he doesn't want to accept that I'm the better person, constantly berating me every chance he gets, and no doubt just to hide his own insecurities, then I'll have to prove him wrong, won't I? That is all there is to it! I don't need to do ANYTHINB but that.

But.... I'm rising to his level, thinking like that. I gues I'll just do my best, instead. That's a good idea, yes.

"So... where are we going first?" I inquire, and he stops in his tracks.

Does he not have a plan?

"First off, kid, there isn't any 'we'. Don't give me the 'we this, we that' shit, okay? I won't accept you as one of us until you prove your worth." He starts off on a rant, and I just shrug. "And don't shrug at me! I'm your superior here, understand? Now, you and I will be going to meet someone you probably don't know; Jonathon Sykes. Do you know who he is? No? Of course not."

Yes, I do. Mr Sykes is the head of the London Metropolitan Police. Anyone that wanted to go into law was probably expected to know that. Nicknamed "The Ghost" by fans and enemies alike, Sykes has a habit of solving the hardest crimes overnight without leaving any trace of investigating them in the sligh-- oh. Oh, that explains that.

I think Sykes might be some sort of telepath, too.  That really does explain everything.

Can we talk without Anchor ever knowing what we are saying? That would be cool. Also probably mean. I'm pretty sure it's hard to like Anchor. He's a jerk, did you know that? Then again, it might be hard to like me, too. I'm pretty damn judgemental. But I'm not a jerk! At least I have that going for me!

Well, for now, the most I can do is still follow him. Which I do. We continue walking through the busy London streets, and I make sure not to lose sight of him. Doing so would be death, and I can't risk that. It won't be literal death - well, that's debateable in this... weird, alternate London -, but I'll probably get hurt somehow in doing so.  I don't like being SO CLOSE to him - I'm literally almost pressed up against him - but it'll have to suffice for now.

But christ, it's really god damn noisy. Will Sykes' place be as noisy as this? I sure hope not. I suppose all I can do really is wait to find out. We'll be there eventually, at any rate. But are we just going to walk? I'm sure I'll get lost on the way there.

Ouch. I just walked straight into Anchor.

"Hey, kid, watch where the fuck you're going. We're here, look sharp."

Well, that makes things easy. It's literally a five minute walk away from the Society building. Or, rather, the hideout? The branch headquarters? I don't know what to call it.

Whatever. Anchor knocks on the door of also another normal building - we're in a residential area now, so I assume this is Sykes' home - and we wait for an answer. After what seems to be a while, but was likely only a few seconds, the door is opened.

"Mary!" Anchor exclaims, in what sees to be delight. So he doesn't hate women.

"Anchor, good morning! Should I bring John here?"

Anchor nods, and the woman, who I assume to be this wife, calls for him.

A ragged looking man then takes her place at the door and invites us inside.

--> Page 4

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1 : Page 2

<-- Page 1

"Please, do not use my surname; I prefer Joanna. Law is like a slap in the face at this point." I remark, my hand slipping away from his. He nods, and he motions for me to sit down. Geez, I'm never going to stop moving at this rate.

I do so, sinking into the sofa; which is surprisingly comfortable. Well, it also looked expensive, so I shouldn't have expected much less.   And as expected, they go straight into business.

"Who's the new chick, huh?"

I turn my head to see who said that; it is the tan man. He's sat right next to me, and... well, I feel small next to him. Damnit.

"This would be Joanna Law," Lucas starts, "our new information gatherer."

Woah, woah, hang on, what? I know I was going to have a meeting with them, but it looks like I don't even have a choice! That's.... that's totally messed up.

"Do I have a say in this?" I inquire, loud enough that they will definitely hear me. Lucas turns to me, and nods.

"Indeed you do. We cannot force you to join us, although we would be very thankful if you do."

The tan man looks at Lucas. "I wouldn't. We have enough people as we are." He responds, which prompts a glare from Blondie on the other side of the room. "What? I'm having MY say in this. Kid ain't even trained in combat, as far as I am aware."

God, he's a total jerk.

"And you aren't exactly trained in gathering information, are you, Anchor?" the woman shoots back. At least someone has my back!

"I got the tip-off on the deal last time, you know." the man, presumably called Anchor - is that a code name of sorts? - rises while he says this, which makes me realise just how tall he really is. He's definitely a few heads taller than me, that's for sure.

"You damn near almost killed the guy. She can grab information with a snap of the finger." Alfred chirps up, signalling for Anchor to sit back down.

"Okay, hang on, hang on. At least let me know who you all are before arguing about me!"

That got them to shut up. Okay, that's a start.

I point to "Anchor". "You. Who are you?"

He stands up again. Oh god, this is going to be a huge, self-loving introduction.

"I am none other than the one and only Anchor Shot!"

Self-love. Yeah.

And his name is ACTUALLY Anchor. Okay. Great. I'm surrounded by weirdos.

"Okay, sit down, I don't care."

He looks so hurt, oh my god. I think I might have hurt his pride... Amazing. Nonetheless, he sits down, silent. I turn to look at Blondie and point to her. "Your turn."

She stays seated, and looks back at me. "My name is Karen. I'm nothing special, I just handle all the technology here. So, you know, checking the citizen registry and stuff. I don't really have a special power like these fellows do... I suppose we would be working close together, though, if you are to work with information!"

She's humble, that's nice. Perhaps she's down to earth, too. I'd like that, if she was to be my partner.

I should introduce myself to them too.

"I've already been introduced, but... I'm Joanna. I'm a telepath, but I really am not as special as Alfred would say I a--"

"Good, we can kick her out!" Anchor interrupts me abruptly. God damn, what a douchebag!

Karen again glares at him. She looks so scary. Actually, she isn't just glaring... she's moving closer to him. Closer, closer, closer, and then there is a sharp smacking sound, followed by a yelp from Anchor. She has just slapped him.

"You absolute dog, do you have any respect for ANYONE?"

You can tell from her tone of voice that she is pretty upset. I wonder if anything has happened between the pair of them recently.

Before I get to say anything, though, Alfred steps in. "So, Miss Law-- I'm sorry, Joanna, would you like to join us?" He asks me, a hand outstretched. I gently bat it away and shake my head.

"I'm afraid I need to know more before I can make up my mind." I respond, my tone much more calm than Karen's was.

Speaking of Karen, she seems to be sulking now.

Alfred nods, standing up. "Of course, you DID just get here after all. I suppose I shall start  from the beginning. We are what you would call the Society. We aren't a very secret organisation, but you would not be able to pick out members of our group at first glance. We have agents around, working in the field even now."

I nod, leaning towards him.

"But, should you join us, you will likely interact with the four of us the most. Most  branches of the Society tend to be twelve or less in strength, to promote teamwork in a way that allows for tighter, coherent strategy and intel gathering. Teamwork that," he gestures to Karen and Anchor, "we seem to be lacking right now."

I nod again, looking at the two adults. Well, at this moment they might as well be children. And I thought I was the youngest here!

"Our jobs range from the mundane, like finding a lost item, to the serious, like solving crimes such as murders. As such, some of the things we deal with can be quite... gruelling on the mind, to say the least. Someone like you, that has come from the outside world, and has not been predisposed to the... ah, shall we say the wackiness, of this world, may find a lot of our jobs especially overwhelming, but... You seem to be someone that can adapt quickly. I trust that you will fit in well here, of course!"

It seems that he has finished his explanation. An organisation like this seems like something straight out of a comic book or a TV series, honestly... am I really suited for this? I don't think I am, but they did reach out to me. Does this mean that they have seen some form of potential in me? I don't think I have any potential whatsoever, but people are not very good judges of themselves.

However, I know for a fact that I do not want to mull this over. If the truth is to be told... I always wanted to join them from the moment they reached out to me. I never wanted to seem too eager, so I did what anyone would do, right? I asked them more about what they did. Of course I'm going to join them. I don't want to live a boring life. Nobody does, do they? If this opportunity came knocking on your door, I'm sure you would accept too.

"I, uhm... I'll do it, if you will accept me." I speak up after what seems to be a long time. I tried to wait, of course. I can't seem too eager! "I'll join you. Thank you for this opportunity."

A small round of applause from the group sounds throughout the room. A round of applause mixed with a groan. I would assume that to be from Anchor. A quick glance over to him confirms my suspicions. Not that it matters, I shouldn't be partnering with him, right?

"Amazing! Now, I am afraid we will have to put you straight into the field now; time is of the essence, and we don't have a lot of it." Alfred speaks up. It doesn't bother me at all that I will be going straight into fieldwork; I'd much rather do that anyway!

"Our current objective is to investigate a gang called the 'Diamonds'. Rumor has it they are the main dealer of a drug known as Barranax. For this mission, you will be investigating these deals, and the drug itself. Your partner will be Anchor."

Oh.

Oh my lord.

I don't think I should have accepted their offer at all.

--> Page 3

[city-of-whispers-webnovel]

Act 1: Page 1

I was lost, and in the middle of London, no less! It really was quite the predicament. A myriad of different people flooded the streets, building were lined up on both sides, too... and yet I was lost looking for a grand building that was supposed to be the offices for a "society of superhumans". It was the perfectly cliched opening to a story that someone may have experienced multiple times through different types of media.

If I had known where I was going, that would have been nice. But even with a map I didn't have a clue as to where I should have been looking. Well, it wasn't like the map was going to be any help anyway, in a city as big as London is. If I could have used my phone, I would have done, but to make matters worse, even finding BAD reception was out of the question. It really was turning out to be a disaster, so I thought that at the time I should have stayed firmly rooted in place, both feet on the ground, and not even question moving. All until I felt that hand on my shoulder and I turned around to see who was trying to (possibly) assault me.

Of course. I was greeted by a taller man, maybe just six foot. Except, he didn't seem to be wholly human. He had the antlers of a deer. Right. So he was one of them, too. Well, everyone around me was likely "one of them"; someone not entirely human. I mean, I was blind to it before, but all along there was a world living parallel with the world you only knew; this world was one you could only DREAM of. And I had unwillingly been thrust into it with one simple event.

But that is a story for a different day.

The man before me sighs and shakes his head. "Joanna Law, I take it? Telepath?"

That would be me. Joanna Law, a telepath. Only nineteen, fresh out of college. Trying to find a job. Well, now I have a job, or... I might have a job.

"That is correct. Lucas Nebulus... The half-deer?"

He nods. With a quick gesture with his hand, he signals for me to follow him, before turning heel and walking in the complete opposite direction that I would have gone.

What a great start!

I follow after him, naturally, not wanting to be left alone in the middle of London anymore. However, we are both silent. This silence carries on for a few minutes before he speaks up, his tone inquisitive and amused.

"Did you get lost?"

I am quick to reply, too.

"No, of course not. I was just taking a small detour."

"A small detour, huh." He replies, chuckling to himself. What an absolute jerk.

"Yes, a small detour. Nothing else!"

Perhaps I am too defensive. But it is not like I care that much. He IS being a jerk.

I take this time to look around, perhaps come to terms with my surroundings. I'm rather new to London, having lived in one of the smaller, more rural areas of England before. I transferred after I completed college to pursue a career in law, but... It doesn't seem like I'll be going into the field I would have preferred.

See, I was always thinking of ways to better myself, before my "telepathy" kicked in; and after that, I excelled. I think it first appeared around the age of... I would have been around eight years old, yes. As I got better at using it, I figured I could go into law. I would be a whiz in the courtroom, so... I could have made good money from that. That plan was going perfectly well up until three days ago.

I had been stuck in a cafe; it had been taken over by three armed men, and then Lucas and another man, an older man, Alfred, turned up. They used magic, which surprised me, but I figured if I used my telepathy to figure out the plan of the captors and then relay it back to the two men fighting them, they wouldn't have been so alarmed.

And that earned me a spot in the "Society", which is literally what it sounds like. Some secret society, or something like that. Of super-people, too! Wow, this does sound really cliche! Since when did I become the protagonist of a story that was so predictable?

Enough of that. It seems like we have reached our destination... and it isn't all that grand. Well, why would it be? It's supposed to be a secret base for a secret society of secret superheroes. Super secret. So secret, in fact, that I bet it changes locations every day. And the fact that it does so is a secret, too!

Lucas opens the door, a normal door. The kind of door you would see on any house, with a textured glass window. Okay, this is a great first impression. I feel like this may be the death of me...

And that feeling is all the more heightened by the fact that the hallway is dark. God, it wouldn't kill them to get some lighting, would it?

Lucas walks on ahead, and I follow him, tentatively. If I'm going to be jumped, I'd like to at least defend myself slightly. He walks straight down the dark corridor, and stops halfway through, before opening a door on the left. I follow through, being greeted by - surprise, surprise! - a room that is decently lit! Also a room that DOES look quite grand, with two red leather sofas either side of a small coffee table made from stained glass.

Sitting on the sofas are an older man - Alfred, no doubt - a younger man, slightly tan with short, brown hair backcombed to a quiff, and next to him a young woman, with longer hair; or I would assume so. She has it up in a bun right now. She isn't as tan, and her hair is much more fair. Actually, it's totally blonde. I wonder if she dyed it...

But that is besides the point, because when I walk through, I am ushered over to the seating area by Lucas. In the short few seconds it takes to actually walk over there, Alfred is already stood up with his arm outstreched, ready to shake my hand - a gesture that I complete by doing the same, and locking my hand with his.

"Good morning, Miss Law." He greets me, a cheery expression upon his face. Having been able to look at him more closely, I can see that he is not as old as I had thought; instead, he looks to be in his mid-fifties, his hair also backcombed into a (much neater) quiff. It also takes on a dark brown colour, however, either age or stress has affected it and you can see the gray slowly creeping through on some strands.

Ah, but he mentioned my name. At this point, I would assume it is some kind of joke. Joanna Law, a girl who wanted to enter the field of law as a lawyer. Yet, it seems she will be entering the field of law as, presumably, a government-sanctioned vigilante detective. If, of course, vigilantism and a government are concepts that still apply in this part of the world.

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