SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 610: The Man Behind the Face

The establishment situated two streets away suited Halbrecht’s preferences far more than the bustling open street.

It offered tranquility, exclusivity, and an environment where conversations could remain discreet. The patrons were a mix of engineers, senior assistants, minor nobles with technical inclinations, and a scattering of alchemists, all ensconced in booths illuminated by the warm glow of amber lamps. The ambient noise was sufficient to mask private discussions, yet not so loud as to be disruptive.

Halbrecht, without a word, bypassed the host’s station.

The attendant, recognizing him instantly, guided them toward a rear booth. Caelum followed Edran von Voss, who, with his cane in hand, maintained the facade of an aged vampire. The cane, though unneeded, served a purpose. Individuals tended to grant a bit more leniency to elderly gentlemen with canes, and this patience proved advantageous for subtle influence.

Halbrecht meticulously removed his gloves before taking his seat. The left glove came off first, followed by the right. He folded them with deliberate precision, placing them beside the hand adorned with his ring. His thumb grazed the metal once before he addressed the attendant.

"Bring the Arvine red, the older vintage. Not the one you serve to patrons who mistake a higher price tag for discerning taste."

The attendant inclined his head. "Certainly, Master von Halbrecht. I shall procure the proper bottle."

Caelum settled himself opposite Halbrecht, allowing the adopted vampire visage to express mild amusement. "You managed to insult the wine selection, the clientele, and the serving staff all in a single sentence. That requires considerable skill."

"If the staff delivers the correct bottle, they have no grounds for complaint. Should the patrons recognize themselves in the critique, then they were in need of the lesson."

"A fair assessment. I shall place my trust in your selection of wine, then."

"You should. My trust in anything in Aurevane during event week is exceedingly low, but my distrust of subpar wine is even greater."

This statement revealed a great deal to Caelum.

Halbrecht’s aversion to noise, his demand for control, and his treatment of incompetence as a personal affront were clear. His thumb’s subtle movement over his ring indicated his judgment of individuals. His gloves were always folded with immaculate care. His disdain was cloaked in civility, a subtlety that often eluded less discerning individuals.

The wine arrived in a slender bottle, its seal adorned with dark wax. Halbrecht scrutinized the seal before gesturing for the attendant to pour. He took the first sip, a small, controlled measure.

Caelum mirrored his action.

His own constitution could process the alcohol without adverse effects. Halbrecht’s, however, could not. This disparity would prove significant throughout the evening.

"This is adequate," Caelum commented.

Halbrecht emitted a quiet sound through his nose. "High praise indeed from a man who publishes critiques of regulators and insults ammunition merchants within moments of meeting them."

"I value efficiency. If something is deficient, I see no reason to employ polite circumlocution for an extended period."

"That certainly explains the nature of your publication."

Caelum allowed the aged vampire’s lips to curve slightly. "You perused it with diligence?"

"Sufficiently to identify two points of contention and respect the remainder. Your pressure-transfer model operates on the assumption of a cooperative lattice, yet actual structures rarely exhibit cooperation, especially once occupants begin their modifications."

"Actual structures possess owners," Caelum countered. "And owners are typically the primary flaw."

Halbrecht raised his glass. "That is the most sensible observation anyone has offered me thus far this evening."

They both drank.

Caelum steered the conversation artfully, avoiding any direct approach toward The Glass Atrium. An outright inquiry would betray eagerness, and eagerness was invariably noticed. Instead, he discoursed on archaic warding systems, depleted mana veins, the placement of decorative crystals near energy conduits, and the peculiar demands of nobility that seemed to accelerate the aging process of engineers.

With each successive glass, Halbrecht became more forthcoming. He didn’t descend into foolishness, but rather a state of ease. This was more beneficial. Inebriated individuals recounted tales; those at ease offered corrections, and in doing so, inadvertently revealed their knowledge.

By the time the second bottle was opened, Halbrecht’s posture had relaxed considerably. Following his third glass from that bottle, the touch of his thumb on his ring became more lingering.

Caelum discreetly noted this detail.

"You remarked earlier that The Glass Atrium possesses substandard technical infrastructure," Caelum stated, circling back to the topic as if it had resurfaced spontaneously. "That struck me as surprising. From the exterior, the building projects an image of refined glass, impeccable taste, and sheer audacity."

Halbrecht emitted a dismissive snort. "That is characteristic of Aurevane architectural philosophy. If the common populace can appreciate the superficial facade, they tend to assume the more complex challenges have resolved themselves."

"And tomorrow, you are tasked with scrutinizing those complex challenges?"

"Regrettably, yes. The first bell after sunrise, at the western technical entrance." Halbrecht took another drink, a flicker of irritation surfacing alongside the warmth of the wine. "I was scheduled to review the lower ward registry today, but an administrator unilaterally decided to reposition the guest barrier three paces outward for aesthetic equilibrium."

"Aesthetic equilibrium?"

"Precisely. A phrase conceived by individuals who have never witnessed a conduit overload and who seem to believe that symmetry can somehow compensate for flawed design principles."

Caelum refilled Halbrecht’s glass before tending to his own. A gracious host. A seemingly amiable colleague. An elderly vampire with no apparent urgency.

"Is the western technical gate the sole access point?" Caelum inquired. "My reason for asking is that if the lower levels are designed like most glass complexes, a single entry point would transform the evacuation plan into a blatant confession."

"There are indeed three primary routes," Halbrecht responded. "The public eastern entrance, the administrative interior lift, and the western technical gate. This western route will be under my purview tomorrow, along with whichever anxious assistant is assigned to manage the documents and inevitably misinterpret instructions."

"A most unfortunate soul."

"Do not waste your pity on him. Should he endure a single morning under my tutelage, he will emerge significantly more competent by noon."

"That certainly is one method of staff development."

"It is the only method certain individuals ever truly learn. Gentle correction only leads to repeated errors, and repeated errors culminate in reports that no one wishes to sign."

Every detail was meticulously absorbed by Caelum.

The first bell after sunrise. The western technical gate. The lower ward registry. An assigned assistant. Halbrecht's presence was anticipated.

The disguise would not need to infiltrate; it could arrive precisely on schedule and articulate its way through the entrance.

He required a touch more information.

"Will you be operating independently within, or will the Atrium administrators feel compelled to oversee your every interaction with the panels?"

Halbrecht's mouth tightened perceptibly around his drink. "They will be hovering incessantly. Lady Ilyra di Nareth is in charge of internal permissions, and she possesses the rather charming habit of questioning the safety of a ward while standing directly in front of the very panel I need to examine."

"I am familiar with her name. Regarding the funding committees?"

"Among her other questionable endeavors."

"Then I can certainly empathize with your predicament."

Halbrecht took a more substantial draught this time. The wine had evidently imparted a crimson hue to the edges of his face, and the delivery of his subsequent sentences had begun to lose its customary precision.

"The morning review should conclude within two hours. Three, if di Nareth insists on defending modifications she clearly does not comprehend. Following that, a private technical discussion will precede the afternoon previews."

"Secluded from whom, precisely?"

"Anyone fortunate enough to be excluded." Halbrecht relaxed back, now comfortable enough to voice his grievances more freely. "Engineers, senior ward personnel, two delegates from the event committee, and, if I recall correctly, an observer from Rosenthal. The Atrium is keen to project an image of cooperation in the wake of the train incident."

Caelum maintained a facade of mild interest, adopting the borrowed persona perfectly.

A Rosenthal observer. This could potentially link to Aubrelle, or it might simply be standard security theater adorned with a noble insignia. Regardless, Trafalgar would certainly wish to be apprised of this detail.

"The attack has evidently put everyone on edge," Caelum remarked. "I imagine the privacy wards are currently receiving far more scrutiny than the structural ones."

"That is invariably the case when individuals of consequence feel threatened. Their primary concern shifts from the structural integrity of the ceiling to whether their panicked utterances might be overheard beneath it."

"That sentiment ought to be prominently displayed on the event invitations."

"It would likely be the sole truthful statement printed upon them."

Caelum emitted a low chuckle and proceeded to pour the remaining wine from the bottle into Halbrecht's glass, a measure sufficient to appear generous without seeming overly eager.

Halbrecht's gaze fell upon the empty bottle, and he regarded it with a frown, as if it had failed a critical inspection. "That seems to have vanished more rapidly than I had anticipated."

"Fine vintages have a tendency to do so."

"Inept company accelerates the process considerably."

"Am I to be considered inept company, Master von Halbrecht?"

"You are tolerable, a quality sufficiently uncommon to arouse suspicion."

"That is arguably the most complimentary accusation I have received all week."

Halbrecht let out a short, rough laugh. His hand moved instinctively towards his ring, narrowly missing it by a fraction of an inch, before correcting its trajectory with evident vexation.

Caelum refrained from probing further. He allowed Halbrecht to vent his frustrations regarding apprentices, the convoluted language of committee reports, the aesthetic shortcomings of decorative mana lamps, and an architect from House di Merrow who, it seemed, thoroughly deserved professional ostracization. Throughout this monologue, Caelum subtly assessed his companion without revealing his scrutiny.

His voice tended to lower when fatigued. His hand movements slowed noticeably after consuming wine. He inclined his head to the left prior to expressing disagreement. He resorted to using full names when irritated, titles when dismissive, and a piercing stare when an individual's intellect no longer warranted verbal engagement. Certain consonants seemed to soften at the conclusion of his sentences, though never to a degree perceptible to a casual observer.

Caelum had not been a casual observer at any point this evening.

When Halbrecht finally pushed his glass aside, the hour outside had waned into that peculiar interval where even the festive streets seemed to exhibit a sense of regret.

"I ought to be returning," Halbrecht stated, though his posture remained unmoving for a moment longer. "The first bell arrives early, and Aurevane will not initiate its own destruction of the Atrium without my presence to formally witness the debacle."

Caelum offered a slight inclination of his borrowed head. "Permit me to accompany you for a portion of the way. You have provided me with far more engaging conversation than I had anticipated this evening, and I should lament it if the city were to lose you before tomorrow's inevitable calamities."

Halbrecht let out a puff of air through his nose, finding the situation both amusing and weary. "Very well, Master von Voss. Should I happen to fall into a fountain, inform the committee that I was merely examining the water distribution system."

"I shall ensure the report is presented in a respectable manner."

Together, they stood up.

Halbrecht reached for his gloves, fumbled them briefly, expressed his displeasure through his features, and then donned them in the incorrect sequence.

Caelum took note of this detail as well.

They re-entered the night of Aurevane, walking side by side. Caelum maintained a half-step behind him, paying attention to the cadence of Orven von Halbrecht's weary breaths, the slight drag in his right foot's gait, and the quiet grumble he uttered when a cluster of boisterous guests obstructed a portion of their path.

The street before them funneled into a narrow service lane situated between two administrative edifices. This area was less illuminated, fewer onlookers were present, and the distant sounds from the main thoroughfare were sufficient to mask any brief disturbance.

Halbrecht decelerated his pace, massaging his brow with two fingers. "It is possible I underestimated the potency of the second bottle."

"Only the second one?"

"Refrain from becoming vexing now, Master von Voss. I was just beginning to find you tolerable."

The borrowed mouth of Caelum curved slightly upward as his hand slid into the inner pocket of his coat.

His fingers enveloped the small glass vial.

Halbrecht had spoken enough for the current night.

Now, he required slumber.

For an extended duration.