Dnipro, Ukraine — Outside Headquarters
Mist clings to the buildings as the agency team stands in front of headquarters, watching a vehicle pull up to the curb. An old man climbs out from the driver's seat, moving slowly but warmly, and greets them with an aging smile.
G Man steps forward and extends his hand.
"G Man."
The driver shakes it with both hands.
"Ah, so you must be G Man. Sir Lubbock told me about you. It's a pleasure to meet a hero. Shall we head to the station? Should I load your luggage into the back?"
"Ah, don't worry about that. We can handle it ourselves."
The driver looks genuinely touched. Before he can respond, Ilama slides between the two of them, plants his elbow on the roof of the car, and looks directly at G Man.
"Woah, woah. Hold on, wheelman." He glances at the driver. "I think it's my turn to drive this baby."
He grins.
"No. Absolutely not." G Man's expression is immediate and final.
"Ohoho. You bet it's happening, G Man."
"Definitely happening." Conner agrees.
"What." G Man stares at them.
"It's happening." Ilama confirms, already moving toward the driver's side.
Moments later, the driver is standing alone in front of the agency building, blinking at the empty space where the car used to be.
He is not sure what happened.
Somewhere on the streets of Dnipro, the car is moving at a speed that no urban road was designed for. Ilama weaves between vehicles, clips corners, and narrowly avoids a woman crossing the street.
"ILAMA, SLOW DOWN! YOU ALMOST HIT THAT WOMAN. WAIT. AGH—"
G Man is white-knuckling the dashboard from the front passenger seat, tears streaming sideways off his face from the velocity. Conner has his entire head out of the rear window, tongue out. Petrona is smiling like someone on a fairground ride.
[Ilama's POV] Steering left, steering right, threading the car through a gap that objectively should not fit a car.
"Told you it was going to happen, G Man."
"YOU ABSOLUTE MANIACS. WAIT UNTIL WE GET TO THE STATION, I'LL KILL ALL THREE OF YOU! AND DON'T YOU DARE ASK ME FOR CANDY AFTER THIS, ILAMA! THE SIGNAL'S RED. STOOOOOP—"
Ilama runs the red light.
Meanwhile, in a nearby alleyway—
A boy sprints hard, clutching stolen food to his chest, the sound of pursuit echoing off the walls behind him.
"Hey. Thief! Stop right there!"
The heavyset man giving chase is already falling behind, gasping and slowing. Hixor doesn't look back. His legs keep moving on instinct while his mind is somewhere else entirely, on his mother, on the state she's in, on everything that put her there. The thought sharpens into something colder.
I'll make them pay for this.
Hixor Miester: A sixteen-year-old outlaw from a renowned and deeply cruel family.
A road opens up ahead, with an alleyway directly across it. Hixor spots a stack of crates to his left, plants his foot on the top one, activates his essence ability, Enhancement, and launches himself across the road in a single arc.
From behind the wheel, Ilama catches it: a kid clearing a four-lane road in one jump, landing clean on the other side. He almost misses it. Almost. But it's the hair colour that makes him look twice.
That kid...
"G Man, take the wheel."
"What? What do you think you're—"
G Man turns. The driver's seat is empty. The car is heading toward a crowded pavement.
Every person in the vehicle screams.
Ilama is standing on the roof of the moving car.
He looks toward the alleyway the boy disappeared into, then drops off the side and slips in after him. The car continues down the road, now under G Man's panicked control.
Inside the alley, Hixor is catching his breath when a figure drops in behind him.
"Hey. Kid. What are you doing in a place like this? This isn't somewhere you're supposed to be."
Hixor spins around. His eyes go wide. Without thinking, he activates his skill, Cloak, and vanishes.
Ilama watches the empty space where the boy was standing and sighs faintly. He reaches out and grabs him by the arm anyway, pulling him back into visibility and pinning him to the wall with calm efficiency.
"Kid. I'll ask again. What are you doing here?" He meets Hixor's eyes. "Why is one of the Miester family's own running through back alleys stealing food?"
Hixor freezes. He struggles for a moment, more out of instinct than any real belief it'll work, then goes still. His mother's face surfaces in his mind. Her deteriorating condition. What the family did, and what they refused to do.
"Why do you care, Fed? Let me go. I've got nothing to do with you."
"First, I'm not a Fed. Second, answer the question."
Ilama's tone doesn't rise, but his grip tightens incrementally. Hixor feels the pressure building toward something unpleasant.
"Fine." He exhales through his teeth. "You're right. I was part of the Miester family. I'm not anymore. Those people will pay for what they did to my mother."
His essence starts leaking out of him involuntarily, coiling around his arms in restless, agitated pulses.
Ilama studies him for a moment.
"Work for me."
Hixor stares.
"Work for you? What would I even get out of that? You're just like the elders, another person who thinks they can use me. Don't mess with me."
"You'd get help with your mother. I'll make sure she's taken care of, medically, financially, all of it. That's what you'd get."
The anger in Hixor's face doesn't vanish, but something behind it shifts.
Before either of them can say anything further, heavy footsteps announce the arrival of the man who had been chasing Hixor. He looks between the two of them and addresses Ilama directly.
"Sir. Hand the boy over. He stole from my stall and there are damages to be paid."
"He's with my organisation." Ilama produces his agency card and holds it out.
The man looks at it. His whole posture changes.
"If you're from the Sleuth Hounds Agency, I respect that, sir. But who covers the damages the boy caused?"
"The agency will cover all of it. Take this." Ilama hands him a card with the agency's billing details. The man examines it, nods with visible relief, and leaves without another word.
Hixor watches the whole exchange in silence.
"Does that clear some of your suspicion?" Ilama asks.
"...A bit. I'm still wary of you."
"That's fair. Now, about your mother."
He pulls out his phone and calls Lubbock. A brief conversation follows, mostly Ilama talking and Lubbock listening with audible reluctance. By the end of it, Lubbock has agreed to dispatch Doctor Stein to treat Hixor's mother and cover all related expenses.
Hixor stares at Ilama.
"Why are you doing all of this for someone you just met?"
"It's my duty to look after my team when things are hard for them. Isn't that how it should be?"
He says it simply, without ceremony.
"Now, shall we head to the train station?"
"Why the train station?"
"We're heading to Japan for a case. You're coming."
"Japan? What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind?"
Ilama is already walking out of the alley. He pauses at the entrance, turns back, and extends his hand.
"Welcome to the Sleuth Hounds Agency, Hixor."
Hixor looks at the hand for a moment. Then he takes it. They walk out together onto the main street, where the rest of the team is waiting and immediately redirects their accumulated frustration about the drive at Ilama with considerable enthusiasm.
Hixor watches the chaos unfold around him, still processing.
What kind of journey is waiting for me...
G Man drives the rest of the way to the station in total silence, jaw set, knuckles tight on the wheel. Ilama is asleep across the back seat with a fresh bump rising on his head and a mildly guilty expression even in unconsciousness.
Nobody asks how it got there.
They pull up to the station.
"We've arrived."
The team files out onto the platform, collecting their bags, getting their bearings. Ilama, now awake and apparently completely fine, drifts immediately toward the nearest vendor stall and buys three lollipops before anyone has located their tickets.
He unwraps one, tucks it into his cheek, and surveys the station with the quiet satisfaction of a man whose day has gone reasonably well.
Somewhere behind him, G Man is still fuming.
Ahead of them, the train.
[Authors Note: We've updated the novel synopsis, though it's a very rough outline of how this novel will unfold!]
Regard, Authors]