At night, inside Caitlyn's home.
The Kiramman family's garden villa was located in the Upper City of Piltover, an area teeming with wealthy elites and celebrities, just a stone's throw away from the astronomically expensive Stellar Avenue.
And this was merely one of the more frequently used "little houses" among House Kiramman's countless estates, villas, private islands, and other real estate properties.
Caitlyn had been home for quite some time.
However, she had not changed into her usual casual t-shirt or dress. Instead, she sat stiffly on the spacious sofa in the reception room, still wearing her crisp blue Enforcer uniform and clutching a carefully bound kraft paper document, waiting for her mother, Councilor Madam Kiramman, to return.
Yet her mother, who usually valued family highly and insisted on coming home on time every day, was nowhere to be seen.
Caitlyn did not waver; she continued to wait.
Finally, after a long wait, some movement could be heard outside the reception room.
"Madam, Miss Caitlyn has been waiting for you in the reception room," the butler respectfully reminded from outside the door.
"I know. You may all step down."
A calm, deep female voice subsequently rang out.
The voice possessed a feminine softness, yet it naturally carried the authority of a superior. It was rational, and cold.
Caitlyn knew that her mother had never spoken in such a tone at home before.
Thus, when her mother—the highest Councilor of Piltover, the elegantly poised Madam Kiramman with slightly graying temples—pushed the door open and entered, Caitlyn let out a helpless sigh.
"Mother, it seems you already know why I am looking for you."
"I know," Madam Kiramman said as she slowly walked over and sat down in front of her daughter, looking at her with a mix of doting affection and disappointment. "Caitlyn, I knew it. You are not suited to be an Enforcer."
"Sooner or later, you were bound to cause a mess like the one today."
As she spoke, Madam Kiramman slowly pushed back the meticulously arranged transcripts and investigation warrant application documents that Caitlyn had laid out, without even glancing at them.
She had no intention of reading them at all.
"Mother, you..." Although she had anticipated this, when the scene actually unfolded before her eyes, Caitlyn still felt a disillusionment akin to her world collapsing.
The mother in her memory was supposed to be a gentle, benevolent, refined, and pure-hearted noblewoman, not a cold-blooded, mercenary Piltovan politician.
But now, it seemed that was perhaps merely her own wishful thinking.
"Mother!" Caitlyn emphasized her tone. "You were the one who told me that Piltover is the nation with the greatest spirit of the rule of law in Runeterra, that it is the most civilized and progressive—"
"I did not lie to you," her mother interrupted. "Compared to other places, we are already the nation that respects the rule of law the most."
Caitlyn fell silent.
"But you also told me that the law is sacred and inviolable! You told me that we must uphold—"
"That was because I never expected you to lose your head and become an Enforcer!" Madam Kiramman gently rubbed her forehead, her expression helpless.
"Caitlyn, resign."
"You are not suited for this job."
Not suited. Once again, not suited.
Sheriff Marcus had said so, and now her mother was saying the same thing.
But she had clearly only fulfilled her duties as an Enforcer, protecting the light and fighting against the darkness!
"No! I thought you would understand once you became an Enforcer," her mother said. "The world is neither black nor white, but rather an exquisite shade of gray."
"If your head is still filled with such black-and-white notions, then you will never be a good Enforcer, nor will you be a qualified heir to House Kiramman."
Caitlyn remained unconvinced.
Her eyes held only disappointment—disappointment at her mother's "betrayal."
"Why?" Caitlyn could not help but ask. "You clearly pretended to be so kind and harmless in front of me before!"
"What kind of background does the Iron Fist Gang actually have? To make you disregard decency and ignore right and wrong just to protect them?"
Madam Kiramman fell into a moment of deep thought.
Finally, she looked at her daughter, whose brow was heroic and spirited, her gaze firm and no longer immature. "Caitlyn, you asked this question at the perfect time."
"I originally planned to slowly teach you these things after you grew up and started getting involved in the family business. Since you have taken the initiative to ask me these questions now, then it is time I taught you some things that a legitimate daughter of House Kiramman ought to know."
Her mother's tone softened, just like the mother who used to patiently accompany her while reading at the desk.
"Caitlyn, what kind of background do you think the Iron Fist Gang has behind them?"
She did not answer directly, but instead threw the question back to her daughter.
"I..." Caitlyn bit her lip in pain, but ultimately looked firmly at her mother. "I suspect that this matter is very likely related to you, related to our family!!"
She pointed the spearhead directly at her own family right from the start.
She thought her mother would deny it.
But Kiramman nodded quite naturally. "The Iron Fist Gang is indeed related to our House Kiramman—they are related to all the great merchant families of Piltover."
"Because the existence of these Zaunite gangs is inherently the result of our tacit approval."
Caitlyn's eyes widened in disbelief.
Shouldn't an underworld syndicate like the Iron Fist Gang be the enemy of the Piltover Council?
"No," Madam Kiramman said instead. "To us, the Iron Fist Gang is actually just like the Piltover Enforcers; they are both tools used to maintain the current order of Piltover."
These words completely shattered Caitlyn's worldview.
The Enforcer she had aspired to become was, in the eyes of a Piltovan Councilor, merely a tool just like the Iron Fist Gang?
"Yes. It is just that Enforcers are used to manage the Piltovan communities, to manage Piltovans."
"And gangs like the Iron Fist Gang are used to manage the Zaunite communities, to manage the Zaunite apprentices."
Councilor Kiramman voiced this bizarre theory that would shock all of Piltover if it ever got out, and then asked her daughter:
"Have you ever been to our family's factories, Caitlyn?"
"No," Caitlyn murmured in reply.
"Three-quarters of the workers in our factories are Zaunites. The situation with the other families is not much different from ours."
"You can imagine just how many Zaunite apprentices have crossed the canal to settle and work in Piltover."
"These people have very low wages and cannot save much money."
"A random accident or a minor illness is enough to plunge them into extreme poverty. They will also grow old, get injured, slowly become unable to work, and be replaced by younger, more capable Zaunite apprentices."
"Then they will lose their jobs, be unable to afford food, be unable to pay rent, and lose their qualifications as apprentices..."
Caitlyn felt a wave of bewilderment.
She still did not understand what her mother was trying to say.
If Levi were here, he could tell Caitlyn:
In the pursuit of the ultimate profit, what Piltover wanted was always the youngest, most capable, and most efficient portion of the Zaunites.
They did not even have to wait for the Zaunites to grow old; as soon as they became slightly unable to keep up with the work, they would be ruthlessly optimized and eliminated by the enterprises. After all, Piltover never lacked young foreign labor; if one batch was eliminated, there would always be another.
And these Zaunites had abandoned everything in their homeland to come to Piltover, yet they were unable to establish solid property relations in the city. When brutal elimination befell them, they were left with only one path to take:
Leave Piltover and return to Zaun.
"But how could those Zaunites be willing to obediently go back?"
Caitlyn listened as the mother she had always thought of as gentle and kind explained to her in a very cold tone:
"Compared to Piltover, Zaun is hell."
"These Zaunites will try every possible means to stay in Piltover, hiding behind the crowds, concealing themselves in the corners."
"They are like bugs hiding in a garden; no matter how many Enforcers you send over, it is impossible to catch them all. Even if you catch one batch, another batch will quickly grow in its place."
"And since these people have no money and no jobs, what else can they do if they stay in Piltover?"
"Nothing more than begging, robbing, stealing, smuggling, prostitution, and loan sharking—shady, illegal businesses."
"Once there are many people doing these underground businesses, they will form gangs and organizations—Zaunite gangs like the Iron Fist Gang naturally formed in Piltover."
"Whether we tacitly permit their existence or not, they will always exist."
Hearing this, Caitlyn finally grasped the concept:
Piltovan enterprises needed Zaunites, so there were many Zaunites in Piltover.
These Zaunites were very poor, and when people became poor to a certain extent, they would inevitably treat the *Criminal Code* as a *Guide to Wealth*.
With more Zaunites committing crimes, Zaunite gangs naturally emerged.
Regardless of whether you allowed their existence, they would endlessly appear in Piltover.
Therefore, rather than blindly rejecting these gangs, it was better to tacitly permit their existence, to use and control them.
"This..." The problem sounded simply unsolvable.
Unless Piltover stopped recruiting Zaunite foreign labor?
Or...
Caitlyn faintly caught onto the root of the problem:
"What if we pay the Zaunites more wages, so they aren't so poor anymore?"
Madam Kiramman fell silent.
"You child," her mother sighed helplessly. "You really are quite foolish."