After parting ways with Susie—the pink-haired Feline who was perhaps the very first in this sector to jump into a new life—the pair continued walking through the newly rebuilt neighborhood, observing the refugees who still seemed somewhat bewildered by their surroundings.
While there were a fair number like Susie already actively making plans, far more preferred to stay inside their assigned rooms, adopting a wait-and-see approach as they held out for a clear sign of stability.
"They really nailed the flavor here. I almost thought this was made by a local back in Victoria... oh wait, these street vendors are Victorians. I totally forgot," Jeanne mumbled between bites, handing a warm, sandwich-like roll to Nine.
It was one of the few items she had sampled in Victoria that she genuinely enjoyed enough to recommend to others.
The snack consisted of a heated Gaulish baguette stuffed with pickled vegetables and sliced beast meat. The subtle acidity of the pickled greens cut through the richness of the meat, creating a surprisingly delicious balance.
Its only drawback was the baguette itself; you had to finish it before it cooled down, or the crust would harden into something sturdy enough to serve as a dinner plate.
The Feline vendor who sold it to them offered a tight, nervous smile. She had just overheard the security officers on patrol address the Pythia beside Jeanne as "Superintendent," confirming her suspicion that these two were high-ranking figures.
"It really is good," Nine agreed after finishing her portion, offering genuine praise. "It's a welcome change from the usual Ursus habit of dunking hard rye bread into thick stews."
Wiping her hands, Nine turned to the vendor to begin gathering the information she had come for. "Since this is your first day setting up shop here, is there anything about the living arrangements that you find difficult to accept?"
Her main goal for today's walk was to get a clear sense of what the newly arrived Victorians were struggling with.
Having served in Lungmen for years, Nine understood how deeply regional habits shaped human behavior. People who experienced a sudden, drastic shift in their environment were bound to run into friction during the transition.
In situations like this, if the issues weren't critical, accommodating a few of their familiar habits made it much easier for them to navigate the initial adjustment period and gradually warm up to the city.
"Huh? Oh! No, nothing like that at all," the middle-aged Feline quickly shook her head. "The conditions here are far better than what we had in Victoria. Compared to this, what we lived through back there wasn't even a real life..."
Though her words were reassuring, her tense posture left Jeanne wondering whether she was telling the truth or simply speaking out of lingering fear.
Jeanne realized that the woman was very likely Taran. For Tarans, a deep-seated fear of authority figures like Nine was practically bred into their bones—something that couldn't be undone in a day or two.
"There's no need to be frightened, ma'am," Nine said softly, her voice dropping into a comforting register. "We aren't private enforcers for the Victorian nobility. We're just here to see how everyone is settling in. The environment here in Ursus is quite different from Victoria, so it's only natural if some things feel unfamiliar."
Her words seemed to carry a strange, grounding calm. Hearing Nine's gentle explanation, the woman's posture noticeably relaxed, and the terror in her eyes began to fade.
It was then that Jeanne noticed several oddly shaped flowers blooming within the stone crevices behind the vendor, their stems swaying rhythmically with the breeze.
If Jeanne remembered correctly, Nine had passed by that exact spot moments earlier. Her Originium Arts, if recall served, were tied to plant manipulation.
Did she set this up beforehand? Jeanne's eyes widened slightly as she glanced at Nine, who was chatting warmly with the vendor. The woman was far more thorough than she let on.
Buzz!
A sharp vibration chimed from Jeanne's pocket. Startled—since she rarely received text messages—she pulled out her terminal, only to find a new message from Nine.
Why bother texting when she was standing right next to her? Was there really a need to be this discreet?
Don't worry, the flowers aren't harmful. I simply used my Originium Arts to accelerate the growth of a strain whose pollen acts as a mild sedative. There are no side effects; it just helps people stay calm so they can speak with us openly.
I know what kind of mental state they're in right now. In fact, after reading the reports on what these people went through in Victoria, the psychological fallout was entirely predictable.
That's why I made it a point to come here today. Only by having the Guard Bureau present on the streets consistently can we build real trust with people during this adjustment phase...
Nine laid out her reasoning in the long text, reassuring Jeanne that the technique was safe and purely intended to put the refugees at ease.
Strictly speaking, she had no obligation to explain her methods to Jeanne. As the head of local security for this sector, she had full operational authority to make on-the-spot calls as long as no major incidents occurred.
Yet she had gone out of her way to send a detailed text—a message she had clearly drafted in advance. Jeanne couldn't help wondering whether Nine had originally written those words to explain herself to Talulah or to her.
Jeanne didn't voice her thoughts. She simply offered a warm nod, letting Nine know she understood her intentions and wouldn't jump to wild conclusions.
She could respect Nine's logic. While using plant pollen might seem somewhat underhanded at first glance, for a group of deeply traumatized Tarans, it was undeniably the gentlest way to lower their guard.
As Nine continued conversing with the crowd, Jeanne caught a faint, unusual floral scent drifting through the air. The sheer density of the blooms suggested this wasn't an impromptu trick, but a carefully pre-planned measure deployed the moment they arrived.
"I wonder how long she's been planning all this," Jeanne murmured to herself, watching Nine navigate a growing circle of Victorians who were now eagerly airing their concerns.
With everyone gathering around, Jeanne realized that many of the refugees did have small grievances, although most were minor details.
Under normal circumstances, such petty issues would easily be overlooked, as time usually smoothed out minor cultural friction without administrative intervention.
But here...
"Here is the summary I put together," Nine said, handing Jeanne a printed document. "Once we get back, we can review these points with the team and adjust a few of the policies that seem to cause the most friction."
Jeanne skimmed the pages, noting that most of the items listed stemmed from deep-seated differences between Victorian and Ursus lifestyles.
"If we alter local regulations just for this sector, will that really be alright?" Jeanne hesitated, looking up from the papers. "I'm worried modifying things specifically for them might stir up resentment in other districts."
"We can frame it as preserving Victorian local customs," Nine replied smoothly. "Plenty of locals are curious about Victoria anyway. Having a dedicated district where people can experience authentic Victorian culture could actually turn into a great feature."
It was clear that Nine and the core administrative team had spent considerable time fleshing out these plans. They were already looking at long-term initiatives like cultural tourism.
A Victorian and Taran themed district right here in Chernobog? For travelers from places like Lungmen, that might actually be a massive draw.
Traveling all the way to Victoria was a massive, costly order. Chernobog, by contrast, was far closer to Lungmen, offering the same exotic Victorian atmosphere without the endless trek.
"You guys are incredible," Jeanne said with genuine admiration. "While I was busy wrestling with advanced math problems, you had already mapped out the entire future for this city."
Comparing their efforts to her own routine made Jeanne feel almost like a free-rider soaking up the benefits of everyone else's hard work.
"It's nothing special. Plans are just words on paper; what really matters is how we handle the people," Nine remarked as they sat down at a roadside bench. By now, it was nearing noon, and more residents were trickling out into the streets to search for food.
"Honestly, bringing you back from Lungmen was one of the best moves we ever made," Jeanne admitted. She didn't know every detail of Nine's contributions, but her impact on the city's structure was undeniable.
Nine paused, setting down her water bottle. Her eyes drifted over the passing crowd, catching sight of several Infected faces she recognized from previous registry files.
A gentle, satisfied smile touched her lips. "To end up in a city like this—where I actually have the freedom to put my abilities to good use—I consider myself wonderfully fortunate."