|Ace>

  The time flew by, and as 8 o'clock approached, we scouted around for 5th Street, then found Bea's Diner. It was more of a retro-themed place on a ledge overlooking a waterside park. The building jutted out over the slope, supported by thick wooden stilts, its large windows offering a panoramic view of the snow-covered pines below and the fjord beyond. A neon sign in the shape of a coffee cup flickered in the window, casting intermittent blue light across the snow on the wooden deck out front. The interior was classic diner decor - checkered floor, red vinyl booths, a long counter with spinning stools. Only one booth was occupied, by an NPC reading a newspaper.

  Walking inside, I pointed at the park out the window and asked, "If this is a trap, do you think they'll want to throw us into those trees where they'll have goons waiting, or should we run into the park to try and lose them?"

  Cherry said, "I think we start by taking out anyone that comes inside to get us, then blockade the front door."

  "And then what? Wait for them to get an angle to tase us through the windows?"

  "Good point..." Cherry chewed her bottom lip. "Ok, new plan: we have to take a hostage. Then-"

  "I assure you that will not be necessary." the man with the newspaper said. "I'm the only one here."

  Cherry and I jumped in surprise. I, uh, misread his nameplate - that was a player - a man named Jefferson in a beige trench coat. His guild tag marked him as a member of the Trade Union.

  "Please, sit." Jefferson continued, folding his newspaper. "Before you draw attention to yourselves."

  We appeared to be alone in there... but you can never be too sure.

  "One moment." I said.

  I leaned over the counter to check if anyone was hiding behind it. Cherry, meanwhile, moved down the line of booths, looking under the tables. Jefferson let out an annoyed breath as he waited for us.

  Once we were satisfied the place was indeed empty, Cherry and I slid into the booth across from Jefferson. I motioned for him to take it away. "Please."

  Jefferson said, "I'm a liaison officer from the First Office. And you are being quite nosy about things that are not your business."

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  Cherry tensed beside me. "What did you do with V-!"

  I quickly elbowed her to keep her from revealing Vs's name, then asked, "How do you know that?"

  "Because it's my job." Jefferson replied. "And don't worry about your contact; she's not a part of this."

  "So you're not going to kill us?" I asked.

  "No."

  "And you're not going to help us?"

  "Not with what you want, no."

  "Then what are we doing here?"

  "Yeah!" Cherry added, leaning forward aggressively. "If you wanted to tell us to get lost, why didn't you just put that in the note you nailed to our door?!"

  Jefferson's expression remained unchanged. "Because I also understand you are in need of certain resources."

  He reached under the table and pulled out a briefcase, setting it in front of Cherry and me. He flipped the latches and opened it, revealing piles of neatly organized documents - maps with colored markers, statistical tables, incident reports, and what appeared to be surveillance photographs.

  "This is the Guard's internal data on Fringe attack patterns starting at their inception." Jefferson explained. "The full records on every single known incident - even those the World Guard would not like publicized."

  I flipped through the top few documents. The information was comprehensive - dates, locations, casualties, property damage, suspected perpetrators.

  "I understand you have a pet theory that the Fringe are shaping their attacks according to bribes or some other internal meddling." Jefferson continued. "You're wrong, but you're free to read that for yourself. The Fringe's banditry is controlled by pure opportunism and some moderate gang-like territory scheme the guilds have worked out. Even this Malleus Maleficarum figure has no control of their day-to-day operations."

  I did a cursory glance through the paperwork. It was extremely thorough - even if it scrapped part of that article, there was weeks of good material in that briefcase. But I still felt I could push a little more.

  "What about Malleus?" I asked. "What does the Guard know about him?"

  Jefferson reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila folder. He held it out toward me, and when I reached for it, he quickly swung the folder, chopping my hand back with the corner.

  "Ow!" I pulled my hand back.

  Jefferson fixed me with an even, cold stare. "Stop looking into the materials shortages. It will only hurt your cause."

  He dropped the folder on the table, then stood up. At the door, he paused, adjusting his collar for the cold. "And for your restaurants article, I recommend the hot chocolate." A hint of a smile crossed his face. "Your funding has been approved, by the way."

  With that, he stepped outside, the bell jingling cheerfully as the door closed behind him.

  I picked up the folder he'd dropped and opened it. "It's going to take us a long time to sort through all this."

  Cherry leaned back in the booth, a determined gleam in her eye. "Then how big is the thing he wants to stop us from looking at?"

  I couldn't help but smirk. "Good thing muckrakers don't stop at the first death threat!"

  "But first..." Cherry hit the bell on the table, and an NPC waitress waitress appeared from the kitchen, notepad in hand.

  "What'll it be, folks?"

  "Two hot chocolates." I said. "And whatever information you have on materials shortages."

  The waitress blinked. "Uh, the hot chocolate comes with whipped cream or marshmallows. Your choice."

  "Both." Cherry and I said in unison, then grinned at each other.