Grayson's talk with Vander was brief, and it hadn't produced anything worth calling a result.
Of course, it had nothing to do with Van either. Just like Vander had said, the only reason he had been kept there was for that young Enforcer's own safety.
What disappointed Vander most was that even with the understanding he shared with Grayson, the negotiation had still failed to move in his favor.
After all, the order had come from Piltover's so-called Council. At Grayson's level, there was only so much she could do for him.
"If you change your mind, use this to contact me."
Grayson placed a small cylindrical object on the table.
"No one will know."
With that, she put her mask back on, pushed open the door, and left.
"Heh…"
Vander rubbed at his hair, half amused, half bitter.
"This is going to be a lot harder to deal with than we thought."
"Yeah. Those kids really... ah..."
Benzo let out a long sigh. Things were clearly starting to spiral.
"What do you think, Van?"
Van, who had been idly tossing a wrench into the air, fell silent for a moment before answering.
"…At the very least, we can't hand our own people over. Not just because of how we feel. If we do that, the Lanes will fall apart."
"Yeah. We absolutely can't do that... but if we don't hand them over, then what? This is a real headache."
"The topsiders definitely won't let this go. They'll keep finding ways to squeeze us."
Benzo patted his protruding belly as he spoke.
"Then... then we fight them!"
Van caught the falling wrench again and slammed it onto the table.
With the brains and experience he had right now, that was the only answer he could come up with.
"Good idea. That's exactly how I used to think when I was young."
Vander swirled the liquor in his glass and stared at its reflection, his expression distant.
"We were cornered with nowhere left to go, so I took people and stormed the bridge... and you know what happened? Topsider pressure eased off, and the Lanes survived. The only price was more lives than anyone could count."
Vander tipped his head back and drained the glass in one go, then set it down hard on the table.
"I won't make that same mistake again... Come on, Van."
Vander got to his feet, but Van still looked dissatisfied.
"I've always known we're no match for topside... but are we really just supposed to sit here and watch?"
"Van…"
Vander patted him on the shoulder. Instead of trying to comfort him, he gave an order.
"You have to promise me that for the next few days, you'll stay home and keep your head down. All right? I don't want anything happening to you too."
"I…"
Looking into Vander's eyes, Van clearly didn't like it, but he still nodded.
Only then did Vander relax. If Van ran into those headstrong Enforcers again, there was no telling what kind of trouble would follow.
As for Van's current frustration, Vander wasn't too worried. Van had always been a smart kid. Given enough time, he would think it through on his own.
...
...
Van was obedient, and he knew his own limits. He also understood that Vander was doing this for his sake.
There was no such thing as soundproofing in the Undercity. Even if he stayed home like he was told, he could still clearly hear the chaos in the streets every time the Enforcers came through.
If he hadn't stayed home, with his temper, it would only have been a matter of time before he caused trouble.
Even so, he had been restless these past two days. He had wanted to bury himself in his inventions and use that to take his mind off things.
But his irritation had turned his usually brilliant mind muddy and dull.
Sitting at his workbench, Van found himself staring at the half-finished steam-powered robot, and his thoughts began to wander.
"Maybe... I should give it some combat functions too."
Once he had the idea, he immediately pulled out pen and paper, ready to start designing weapon systems. But with his thoughts in such a mess, he couldn't even come up with half an idea.
Bang!
The more he thought, the more annoyed he got. In the end, Van snatched up his notebook and flung it across the room, only for it to smack straight into someone who had just walked in.
"Vander?"
"In a bad mood?"
Vander crouched down and picked up the notebook from the floor. Its pages were crammed with all sorts of design sketches, though the most recent ones were noticeably more chaotic.
"What do you think? How could I be in a good mood right now?"
"Come on. Have a drink with me."
"Uh…"
Vander straightened the notebook, set it back on the table for him, and headed out first.
Van frowned, then stood up from the workbench and followed, making sure to lock the workshop behind him so none of his precious things would get stolen.
"Why are you suddenly taking me out for a drink?"
Van hurried after Vander and asked in confusion.
"Mm. There's something I want to talk to you about."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you in a minute."
"Mysterious much…"
Van muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking around as they walked. After the way the Enforcers had been harassing the place these last two days, the Lanes already looked noticeably emptier than before.
Seeing that only deepened the worry in his chest.
Van's house wasn't far from the Last Drop. A few minutes later, the two of them arrived.
"Why's no one here? What happened?"
Van looked outside at the sky. It shouldn't have been closing time for the Last Drop yet.
"Something happened this afternoon. We closed early."
Vander walked behind the bar, took a bottle from the counter, and poured liquor into two empty glasses before handing one of them to Van.
"So then? What exactly did you drag me here for?"
"What, I can't ask you out for a drink unless there's a reason?"
"Oh, please…"
Van took a sip, and the harsh burn of the liquor made him frown. He had to force himself not to cough.
"Slow down. That's the strongest stuff we've got."
"Mm... So have you made a decision? Are we going to clash with topside or not?"
"No... That young Enforcer came by again today. Good thing you weren't here, or there would've been trouble for sure. You're not exactly as patient as I am."
Van's brow tightened even more. Vander didn't need to say it out loud. Van could already imagine exactly what that arrogant bastard had done.
"Heh. Last time I really should've taught that guy with the stolen grandma's cane a lesson."
"Easy there, easy there. Don't be so rash all the time, Van."
Vander took a slow pull from his pipe and spoke in an unhurried tone.
"With you like this, how am I supposed to feel safe leaving Vi in your hands?"
"Oh? Vander, hearing something like that come out of your mouth is really…"
Van suddenly froze.
His face changed at once, going pale, and he shot to his feet on pure reflex. The glass in his hand tipped over and rolled across the table, spilling red liquor that dripped steadily onto the floor.
"Sit down, Van."
Van's expression was complicated, his face pale, lips pressed tight. It took him a long moment before he finally forced out a hoarse reply.
"This won't work... Vander…"
"Sit down, kid…"
Vander set a hand on Van's shoulder and pressed him back onto the stool. Then he reached over, righted the overturned glass, and poured him another drink.
He took a pull from his pipe, his voice low and steady.
"Now listen. I'll talk, and you keep quiet."
[End of chapter]