A faint forest breeze carried the scent of grass and wood between the two of them.
Jim stood in the shadowy night, eyes slightly lowered in contemplation.
Naturally, he didn't fully believe Livia's words.
She was too calm—calm in a way that didn't match a noble lady raised in luxury inside the castle.
Though there'd been rumors lately that she was no longer the sheltered, sentimental young woman she once was, Jim knew better: it takes more than a few incidents to fundamentally change a person's nature.
Everything about her tonight felt coached, deliberate—like someone had trained her and set this all in motion.
Still, what she said wasn't wrong.
Though he sat atop the throne of the city's underworld, with his influence seeping into every crack and corner of urban life, if he truly went up against the military legions head-on, even if he could escape unscathed, he'd never seize the so-called "Holy Grail."
Over the years, he'd seen countless power-hungry fools, heard too many legends about "that object."
He knew: it was never something a single person could claim alone.
And this girl in front of him—suddenly piqued his interest.
She wasn't as simple as she looked. In fact, something about her felt… strangely familiar.
And people like that—were always the most useful.
He licked his lips, letting a faint, amused smile curve onto his face, then spoke slowly:
"Since you seem to know who I am, then surely you also know how I deal with traitors—don't disappoint me."
His voice was even, almost casual—but each word struck like ice down the spine.
Livia didn't flinch. She merely arched an eyebrow slightly, like she'd expected this from the start.
"First of all…" Jim took a step forward, lowering his voice, "Marcellus is holding on to a very important classified document. I assume you've heard of it."
That one sentence made Livia's heart sink.
As expected.
It seemed the existence of the document was no longer a secret. But… the true secret within it likely hadn't been uncovered yet.
This entire performance had been built on that gamble—the hope that Edgar, Jim, even Eryx, hadn't yet grasped the document's true significance.
But now that Jim was bringing it up on his own, it was clear he was inching closer to the truth.
If she stalled any longer and he got his hands on it first, the entire balance of power would shift.
Still—everything was still within her control.
Livia exhaled softly, then gave a faint, knowing smile.
"Of course I know about the document. Did you think I'd come to you this blindly?"
She lightly patted the side of her bag, her tone slow and deliberate:
"Unfortunately—I've already sent it off, as a token of goodwill. It's no longer in my possession.
But don't worry. If it really is valuable, that wasn't the only copy."
"You're saying… you have a duplicate?" Jim's eyes narrowed, his tone edged with danger.
"Guess." Livia's reply was breezy, but her confidence was unmistakable.
Now it was Jim's turn to fall silent. His eyes sharpened, analyzing each nuance of her words.
The trees swayed softly. The wind suddenly picked up.
Livia knew—she couldn't back down, couldn't show weakness.
She couldn't even be too perfect—too perfect, and Jim would trust her even less.
"Jim," she suddenly called softly, voice nearly lost to the wind. "I don't expect you to trust me completely.
But the fact that you came here tonight… means you've already hesitated.
You're not stupid. You know once that thing resurfaces, it'll unleash a storm of blood and fire.
I won't lie to you. I don't want to be a casualty. That's why I'm choosing to cooperate with you—now."
She paused, looking him straight in the eye.
"You can keep testing me. Or—you can try to see where this cooperation might go."
Jim stared at her for a long moment, saying nothing.
Then, at last, a soft laugh slipped from his lips, shadowed and low.
"Then let's see if you can keep me believing."
He hadn't said yes—but he hadn't said no either.
And Livia knew—she'd already won half the battle.