Eskarn's gaze changed in a split second, he went from indifference to surprise, to anger. Jarek even swore to see a strong murderous aura coming in his direction.

"Ohlala, no need to get upset like that." Joked Jarek, a clever smile on the face. "I am in no way looking to fight against you, it would be a waste of energy for you as well as for me."

The stern host relaxed a few moments before addressing Jarek again. "You don't interest me either..."

"So we found common ground." Jarek continued before heading towards the staircase that led to his room.

On the way, he took the time to think about what Eskarn had just told him: "Everyone knows you..." In a place other than Ceston, it would actually have sounded like a compliment, but in a rat hole like this town, it didn't mean anything good. But at least, the strange feeling that someone was following him since he had arrived in this city was real.

He deduced two conclusions from it: either someone wanted to harm him, or this person expected something from him.

Upon arriving in front of the door of room 42, he noticed that the door was open, which was not the case when he had left it that morning. But well, that didn't necessarily mean that someone had gotten in there, the door and the window being broken, a simple draft could have opened it slightly.

However, as a precaution, he put on his guard and placed a hand on his sword hidden under his cape.

He entered his room without making a noise and noticed that it was completely empty, not the slightest trace of a break-in, no clue suggesting any intrusion. Everything seemed exactly as he had left it. And yet... something was amiss.

He took a few steps in the room, his eyes alert, his senses alert. Then, suddenly, his foot hit something. He lowered his eyes and saw a small metallic object, half hidden under the wobbly table near the wall.

He bent down, picked it up and carried it up to his eyes. It was a cape button, made of obsidian, encrusted with a tiny eye-shaped symbol. It did not belong to him.

Jarek gritted his teeth. Someone had indeed entered here.

He quickly circled the room, lifting the bed sheets, inspecting the interstices of the damaged parquet, checking that his meager belongings were still there. Nothing was missing. And yet... he still felt this slight smell in the air, almost imperceptible, a mixture of dust and wilted violet. A perfume that had nothing to do here.

He remained frozen for a moment, his gaze fixed on the button. The eye. It was the first time he saw this symbol, but he was sure of it, it would certainly not be the last time.

He stored it in an inner pocket of his cape, then approached the window. It was ajar. Too ajar. As if someone had sneaked out upon hearing her steps in the hallway.

For a moment, he thought of going out in turn, to chase the intruder. But he changed his mind. If this person wanted him to know that she had come here, it's because she was trying to disturb him, to make him react. And he hated reacting according to others' plans.

Instead, he sat on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands crossed in front of his face.

"The hunt begins, huh..." he whispered to himself, a joyless smile at the corner of his lips.

Then, he took out of his pocket an old notebook with a grated cover, opened it on an empty page, and inscribed three words: obsidian eye, button, floral scent.

He didn't yet know what all this was leading to, but one thing was certain: this city stank of trouble.

"I would have preferred to be at ease for a few more days." He thought, while settling on his wobbly bed, before falling asleep, all his senses alert.

The next morning, Jarek opened his eyes to the first ray of sunshine filtering through the cracked glass in his room. His sleep had been light, almost tense, punctuated by brief jumps and confused dreams where a black eye floated in the middle of a purple fog.

He stretched slowly, casting a suspicious look around him. Nothing had moved during the night or, at least, nothing he could notice. But he knew that the real threats did not always leave visible traces.

He got up, cracked his shoulders, then went to open his bag. His sword was still there, carefully concealed under an old cloak, and his few provisions had not been touched. Yet he could not shake off this unpleasant sensation, as if an invisible presence was still watching him.

During the evening, he had several times hesitated to watch the comings and goings of the various hosts and hostesses of the Order of the Assassins, but Eskarn's remark, as well as the button found in his room, indicated nothing good to him.

He had therefore preferred to postpone his mission by a few days, just enough time to show off and sweep away any possible suspicion hanging over him, even though he knew that staying beyond reproach for a few days would not change much. But all the same he preferred to avoid attempting the impossible from the first days, at a time when everyone expects him to do something of which only he has the secret.

He then took a few moments to wash his face in the basin of cold water that he had filled the day before, then put on his black tunic and returned his cape. Before leaving the room, he stopped short. The button. He pulled it out, examined it again. The eye in relief symbol showed no strange or suspicious signs.

He stored the button in a small leather cloth that he hid in the inner lining of his boot. Then he left the room, closing the door behind him, although it no longer really closed. He went down the stairs, his gaze sweeping mechanically over the common room of the inn.

Eskarn was no longer there.

In his place, the same woman as two days ago, the one who had greeted him and made him take Ushi's test, was there. She barely raised her eyes, piercing his sharp gaze, seeing him pass by.

Jarek did not linger and headed towards the mission bulletin board located next to the hosts' office.

He observed one by one the different missions that this painting proposed and without any great surprise, each of them was intended to eliminate a specific target or group. But each of his murders had a different reason. For some, it was the elimination of a person hostile to the Order or a deserter, others consisted of eliminating different bandits doing their duty in the streets of Ceston or surrounding towns, but some consisted only of eliminating a lambda individual, simply because the person in harm had paid a large sum to see it disappear.

To be honest, none of these missions really interested him. Jarek was not fond of the idea of killing for pleasure. During his mission the day before, it was not the first time that he had to kill a human being, but each time he did so, he felt an unpleasant sensation when seeing the gaze of his victim lose all life's brilliance.

But then, when he was lost in his thoughts, he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder.

By pure reflex, Jarek placed his hand on the guard of his sword, swiveling abruptly in the direction of the pressure felt on his shoulder.

But he was not a murderer. Neither a spy. Nor even an adult.

In front of him stood a young girl, not more than twelve years old. She looked at him with big clear eyes, curious and without the slightest trace of fear. She wore a slightly worn-out dress, and her mid-length, disheveled chestnut hair framed a soft, expressive face. A slight spot of ink crossed her fingers, and she held a small notebook against her chest.

Jarek stared at her, tense. But the little girl didn't move. She didn't even step back. She was just looking at him, astonished at his reaction.

"Oh! Sorry!" she exclaimed, a bit embarrassed. "I didn't want to scare you... I just wanted to ask you a question."

Jarek raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. He released the guard of his gun, but kept a cautious posture.

"You didn't scare me, you just weren't supposed to be there." He lowered his voice slightly. "And in general, we avoid placing our hand on people without warning, especially here."

The little girl nodded quickly, her cheeks a bit red. "Yes... sorry. It's just that I saw you watching the missions, and I think I've never seen you here before."

His tone was neither accusatory nor suspicious. Just sincerely curious.

Jarek tilted his head slightly. "And so, you think that's a good reason to question a stranger?"

She hesitated for a moment, then timidly shrugged her shoulders. "I like to know who the people who come into the Order are. There are some nice, others a little weird." She lowered her eyes, then raised them towards him. "You look... tired. But not mean."

A slight laugh, almost imperceptible, escaped Jarek. She really didn't know who she was dealing with. And yet, she did not emit any feeling of discomfort. Just some kind of... strange calm.

"You're right, I'm new here." He replied, more softly this time.

She seemed to think for a few seconds, then approached with a step, lifting her little notebook. "What is your name?"

He hesitated. Prudence would have wanted him to lie. But what's the point? She was clearly not a spy, nor even an apprentice assassin. Just a child with too much curiosity.

"Jarek."

A smile lit up the girl's face. She noted the name in her notebook, with a slightly trembling handwriting.

"I'm Mira."

She then stared at him with a slight intensity, but not in a heavy way; rather as someone who discovers a character in a book and wants to learn more.

"Are you going to take on a mission?"

Jarek glanced at the board without much enthusiasm. "I'm hesitating. They're not... very exciting."

Mira nodded. "Yes, most are a bit ugly. Sometimes there are different missions, but someone needs to propose them to you."

"Interesting."

She nodded again, then looked around before leaning slightly towards him.

"If you want, I can help you find a less... ugly mission. I know almost everyone here."

Jarek watched him for a moment, intrigued. She was clearly not an ordinary child, but neither was she a threat. Just a lively soul in a dreary place.

He replied with a small smirk: "Maybe I will ask you for your help, one of these days."

Mira nodded, very seriously, as if she had just received an official mission.

"Okay. I'll be waiting for you."

Then she turned around, walking up the corridor with small quiet steps, notebook against her.

Jarek remained for a moment frozen. There were still a few minutes, he expected to discover a blade in his back or a trap about to close. Instead, he had just met a curious, honest, and oddly insightful child.

But he didn't lower his guard for that. Because in a city like Ceston, even innocence could hide something. Not necessarily from the danger... but perhaps a truth that he himself was not yet ready to hear.

And as he directed his gaze to the missions panel, he murmured for himself:

"First an eye engraved on a button... And now a girl who wants to help me. This city is really not normal."

His discussion with this strange little girl had totally taken him out of his initial thoughts, but in the end it was not so bad, it allowed him to make a decision.

He approached the few missions rank Gold, there were only 4 that were attached to them.

That didn't surprise him. Firstly, there were very few missions ticking all the difficulty criteria that such a mission imposed and secondly, there were only very few Gold ranks in the entire floor -5, so necessarily, in a single Order, they counted on one hand and in some, there wasn't even any.

Moreover, Jarek was used to there being so few missions attached, given that this was also the case in the Order of Mercenaries, knowing that it is a larger Order than the Order of Assassins.

Without thinking too much, Jarek took a mission and headed towards the only office where the hostess with her murderous gaze was.

Upon arriving in front of the office, the hostess did not look at him directly, she seemed busy writing various things on a parchment, surely a mission that will be hung on the board shortly.

Not wishing to stay any longer in this sinister place, Jarek placed his hand on the desk making a noise to attract his attention, which worked since the young woman looked up in her direction, momentarily stopping what she was doing.

"Yes ?" she asked dryly.

At the moment when he was going to ask to take on his mission, a question crossed Jarek's mind. "Who was this young girl near the mission board?"

Not seeming surprised by his question, the hostess stared at him with a threatening look before placing one of those strands of hair that were coming down on her forehead. "Ah Mira... Just a child who likes to come here."

Jarek noticed that he didn't even need to describe her physically so that the hostess knew who she was. He therefore concludes that indeed, she seemed to know quite a few people in this Order.

Seeing that he was not going to continue the conversation any longer, the young woman took the parchment in front of her and took the time to read it for a few moments. "I see... The extermination of the armed gang. That's good, she was starting to gather dust."

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