SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 589: The Waiter

Trafalgar finally lifted his gaze, his eyes settling properly on Caelum.

Despite the uniform, the ash-brown hair, the subtly altered glasses, and the posture reminiscent of an impeccable train attendant, there was no mistaking him. Caelum had been changed just enough to evade casual scrutiny, but Trafalgar had relied on the man for too long to be deceived by a different face.

"Honestly," Trafalgar murmured, his voice kept low, "it astounds me how adeptly you fulfill my requests. It's almost admirable."

Caelum inclined his head with flawless politeness as he began placing the initial plates on the table.

"Your words do me great honor, Young Master, but it is merely my duty."

Trafalgar observed Caelum arranging the food with hands that looked capable of serving breakfast, executing a silent kill, fabricating a document, and vanishing through three locked doors without a change in his breathing.

"We have a brief interval before Cynthia returns," Trafalgar stated. "I have a query. How did you manage infiltration? I doubt a mere alteration of your appearance sufficed."

Caelum placed a glass of juice near Cynthia's designated spot at the table, then set Trafalgar's coffee before him with the same practiced precision.

"I adopted a false identity, manipulated several records to gain status as secondary staff assigned to the train, and passed security checks as a substitute on short notice." His tone remained formal, pitched softly enough that any nearby individuals would perceive only a waiter discussing the menu. "The original waiter was regrettably unable to report for duty."

Trafalgar's brow furrowed slightly.

"Unable?"

"Indeed, Young Master. He was incapacitated for his shift."

Trafalgar regarded him intently for a moment.

Caelum's expression offered no tell; it remained a mask of calm service, which, paradoxically, made the unspoken answer more unsettling.

"Very well. Never mind."

"As you command."

Trafalgar picked up his coffee cup, more as a prop for his hand than from any immediate desire to drink.

"Incidentally, our endeavors in Aurevane will demand considerable effort. You are already privy to the crucial objective: should we locate Selara's master, definitive answers are required."

"I comprehend perfectly, Young Master," Caelum responded. "Furthermore, all arrangements are finalized for our activities within the city. However, the certainty of our target's presence remains unconfirmed."

"That is a valid point," Trafalgar conceded. "Yet, the likelihood is substantial enough to warrant proceeding as if he might be there."

Caelum offered a slight inclination of his head.

"Upon arrival in Aurevane, I shall adopt yet another guise. This current identity concludes with the train's journey. Within the city, I will attend key events under a far more distinguished persona."

Trafalgar's fingers stilled on the rim of his cup.

"Distinguished?"

"Sufficiently so to navigate areas inaccessible to a mere attendant."

"Naturally."

"It would prove inconvenient to be restricted to service corridors during the Conclave."

Trafalgar exhaled a quiet breath through his nose.

"Somehow, I suspect inquiring about the prepared identity would only add to my weariness."

"That assessment may well be accurate."

"Then I shall refrain from asking."

Caelum's eyes dipped slightly, an expression that could almost be mistaken for approval.

"A judicious decision, Young Master."

Trafalgar leaned back almost imperceptibly, casting a brief glance across the dining car. Patrons were engrossed in their meals, quiet conversations, or documents, oblivious to the staff circulating between tables. Their lack of attention confirmed Caelum's disguise was functioning precisely as intended.

"Anything further?"

Caelum's placid expression remained unchanged, though his voice gained a subtle edge of precision.

"One final advisory prior to my departure, Young Master. Caution is advised throughout this journey. Considering the train's manifest cargo, the caliber of distinguished guests aboard, and the inherent value of the transported materials, the possibility of an assault is not insignificant."

Trafalgar met his gaze.

"An attack upon the train?"

"Precisely. Not necessarily directed at you personally. More likely a heist, acts of sabotage, or an attempt to pilfer from the cargo carriages. The sheer volume of valuable assets aboard presents an opportunity too tempting for less scrupulous individuals to overlook."

"The security measures are reputedly stringent."

"They are," Caelum affirmed. "However, this does not render them infallible. It merely signifies that any perpetrator will either be exceptionally well-prepared or profoundly reckless. Sometimes, the distinction only becomes apparent after the initial confrontation."

Trafalgar found the logic disconcertingly sound.

"I am aware. Director Selara already alerted me that this train carries an excessive amount of wealth, a concentration of valuable materials, and a confluence of prominent individuals. I shall exercise vigilance."

"My presence will also be available should any incident transpire."

"Refrain from intervention unless absolutely necessary. Prioritize observation."

"Understood."

Caelum reached out to the vacant area near the table, a gesture akin to arranging the cutlery. To any casual observer, it appeared to be a service gesture. However, for Trafalgar, it signaled the cessation of their discussion.

The waiter, who was disguised, straightened himself.

"I shall fetch the remaining items shortly."

"Understood."

Caelum departed with the same unhurried demeanor he had exhibited upon his arrival.

Trafalgar observed his departure for a moment before redirecting his focus to the coffee.

'He is truly remarkable.'

Caelum had outlined the necessary steps, yet each step concealed an immense amount of preparation. A fabricated identity. Altered official records. A replacement position. Successful inspections. An additional forged identity prepared for Aurevane. All of this accomplished within a two-month span, all while meticulously monitoring House Morgain, Euclid, Silas, and any other elements he deemed crucial.

'He speaks of it as if he merely changed his attire and entered, but to execute such a feat on a train operating under Council regulations, the level of preparation must have been substantial.'

Trafalgar's thumb traced the rim of the cup.

'Now, the crucial question remains: will Selara's master indeed be in Aurevane? Locating him is paramount. The matter of the potion he created cannot be disregarded. If he developed something capable of imparting intelligence to a Void Creature, insights from him could reveal far more than Selara's conjectures. Furthermore, a link to the Vaelion might still exist...'

The ancient master had, at one point, been associated with a sinister affair involving a Vaelion faction. Selara believed he had been imprisoned or eliminated long ago. If he were still alive, if he had resumed his activities, then someone must have either liberated him, concealed him, or exploited him.

None of these possibilities were encouraging.

Before Trafalgar could delve further down this contemplative path, Cynthia returned from the restroom.

Her hair appeared somewhat more tidily arranged now.

He noted this subtle change immediately. She had adjusted it just enough that the stray strands from earlier no longer softened the lines of her face in the same manner. It was a minor detail, and he opted not to comment on it, but she possessed an enhanced appearance.

Cynthia took a seat opposite him and surveyed the table.

"Wow. They brought everything out swiftly, and it all looks delicious."

Trafalgar raised his coffee cup.

"Then let us begin our meal."

The remainder of the food arrived moments later, delivered this time by a different attendant. Toast, eggs, fruit, juice, coffee, and a selection of small side dishes that seemed far too elegantly presented for a meal served on a train. Cynthia took a bite and paused, her expression clearly one of surprise.

"This is surprisingly good."

"Selara did mention that the restaurant here garners high praise."

"Selara also advised against vomiting prior to dining here."

"Both statements can coexist as factual."

Cynthia cast a subtle glance at him across the table, though a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

They commenced their meal as the train finally initiated its movement.

Initially, the transition was almost imperceptible. The stabilizing runes embedded beneath the floor effectively absorbed the majority of the motion, leaving the restaurant car remarkably stable, so much so that the glasses did not even vibrate. Through the expansive windows, the platform began to recede. Workers transformed into indistinct forms. Forms dissolved into a wash of color. The Velkaris station glided past, then slipped into the past.

The velocity gradually increased.

Cynthia turned towards the window, her gaze filled with a quiet sense of wonder, as she watched the cityscape vanish with unexpected speed. The buildings grew sparser, the outer districts blurred into an indistinct mass, and soon, Velkaris itself could no longer be discerned, existing only as a faint impression against the backdrop of the morning haze.

She lowered her fork slightly.

"It truly travels at a remarkable pace."

"And it has not yet reached its maximum velocity."

Cynthia glanced back at him.

"That observation does little to alleviate my unease."

Trafalgar sipped his coffee, allowing his gaze to wander towards the window.

Caelum was within these confines.

Selara was actively seeking a man who should have long since disappeared.

Cynthia sat opposite him, partaking in breakfast as if this excursion were merely a routine academic trip.

And somewhere aboard this train, there existed a sufficient quantity of wealth, alchemical substances, aristocratic arrogance, and concealed contraband to render the entire journey significantly more precarious than its outward appearance suggested.

Outside, Velkaris had already faded from view, while the breakfast arrived warm, costly, and far more tranquil than the remainder of the journey had any right to be.