Vito woke up early with a lot on his mind. Most notably, he tried thinking of a pattern in the inn and tavern murders. Borak didn't have the tact to plan such a tight operation, but Vito had ensured the man still had a healthy amount of fear of the Crimson Tides. That made for the best deterrent of betrayal, because fear led to an irrational feeling that you would be discovered and suffer dire consequences. Vito also deemed it important that he participate in the intimidation - before, only Jekio participated occasionally with their father, but as the new boss, it was important that he started building a personal reputation as ruthless.

  Doing such vile acts for the motive of instilling fear had felt barbaric in the past, but now it was all too necessary.

  The guards stood at attention and saluted Vito as he exited the manor - a habit they had picked up on their own. Vito nodded in acknowledgment at them and walked out of the manor's gates.

  There was a path leading into the heart of the district, which Hades had taken on their drives yesterday, but there was a different path that branched off to the right. The path led to a row of residential houses called the Tide, where the rest of the Crimson Tide crew stayed. Though they weren't restricted in terms of coming and going to the heart of the district, it was dangerous for them to have houses with their family far away from the manor's protection. It only took one particular brave day for someone to execute their revenge or hatred for any number of things the crew might have participated in.

  The Tide was within walking distance of the manor, which meant it would take a particular stupid person to risk coming after a crewmember when the crew lived close to each other and the leaders were just a stone's throw away.

  The houses were squat and separated only by two strides of a giant. This was the typical build of houses in District 35. The more wealthy areas had a characteristically large space between each other, instead of a towering height.

  As he made his way towards the Tide, mosquitoes swarmed around him, assaulting him without remorse. Another reason why living in District 35 could be jarring; mosquitoes found you whenever you were outside for too long. Vito's father used to joke the walk to the Tide with his dress shirt rolled up was a nice way to be humbled because the mosquitoes didn't give a damn about his status or how many of their kind he killed. To them he was just another human ripe for the taking.

  However, the purpose of Vito's walk wasn't to be humbled. His father had stressed the importance of having a good relationship with the crew and Vito intended to do exactly that. He walked through the residential area and a couple of kids, no doubt kin of members of the crew, stared at him in awe. He gave them the friendliest smile he was capable of and they looked like they might faint.

  He continued on to the eastern edge where a building distinct from the squat houses sat. It was bigger and had decorations across its walls, though it was the same stone gray as the houses. Word must have spread about Vito's presence because a group of gruff looking men stood outside of the building waiting anxiously. Vito stuck to his leisurely walking pace which only made the men appear more anxious as he neared.

  A man stepped forward when he reached the base of the steps. He was built with a dignified compactness only possible through discipline and hard work. His shirt strained against the bulge of his body. This was Valko, a vice-captain of sorts, who the crew listened to so that the boss wouldn't have to show up in person every time he wanted to give instructions. Most of the crew were distant family members or District 35 residents lucky enough to catch the Crimson Tides' eye and be gradually accepted into the flock. Valko was a distant cousin, if Vito remembered correctly.

  "There a problem, boss?" Valko asked in his rough voice.

  Vito paused to nod at the six other men then extended a hand which Valko shook numbly, a look of surprise on his face. Vito had always chosen not to mingle with anyone he didn't need to; it was less as a display of superiority, and more only prioritizing necessary conversations. Things had changed a bit now with his new responsibilities.

  "Am I too late for a card game?"

  The eyes of the men widened as one, but soon after, their lips stretched into smiles. They ushered him inside with great enthusiasm. The interior smelt like stale ale and the musk of high-testosterone males, but that didn't repel Vito. He may have grown up in a manor, but his father had been aware that pampering his children was not the way.

  Dozens of eyes turned to regard Vito with wonder. They were the rest of the crew not out in the city on business, which was a lot considering most of their work was done at night. They followed Vito like a pack of hyenas as he was led to the largest table located in the middle. A rumbling ensued as the men bickered over who would join the game, but there was a certain order and friendliness that permeated the lighthearted arguing.

  Eventually, the participants were chosen and the cards dealt out. There were no attendants here, only men fighting earnestly to win a round. Vito quickly learned that the men were seasoned and undoubtedly more experienced than him, but strategy was where he excelled. Not to mention, his ability to read people while simultaneously cloaking his emotions was a big advantage.

  He hadn't come here simply to lounge and kick back with his crew. It was purposeful, yet it would be ultimately unproductive. Vito's mental gears turned best when he was multitasking with a game, preferably against players that were a match for his wit (which these men were not), and so he did some of his best thinking when playing cards and the like. Bekah was usually on board to play against him as she was well accustomed to his peculiar thinking exercise, but this was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

  Still, he felt a slight yearning for better competition, though it wasn't obvious from his mannerisms. There was a healthy amount of jeering and joking going around, but Vito didn't join in, else he place himself too firmly on the level of his crew. He only subconsciously listened to their amicable banter as he mentally placed things in order.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  His show last night at the Milky Way ensured that Borak and his men would be on high alert, but that had not been his only aim. He wanted to confirm that Borak still truly feared the Crimson Tides and that a new person hadn't taken their place in his heart. There was no guarantee, but Vito trusted his gut, and his gut told him that Borak was too scared of the consequences to betray them. Of course, that didn't mean his crew was above a bribe.

  Either way, Vito was starving for progress and his mind creaked under his pressure as he forced himself to recount everything he knew from all angles.

  He could see the player two turns from him had a bad hand by the hint of desperation in his eyes when he looked down to play. He laid out a trap for him so that he'd get himself out.

  That's right, a trap was key. He had no idea of the masked person's identity or motive, and a direct confrontation was the only chance of finding out those necessary traits. He could speculate on motives all day, but it wouldn't be productive with the glaring absence of hints.

  Vito used to hate mystery books because it was easy to pick up a pattern and figure out the plot twist before the conclusion neared, but now he wished he had that problem.

  As the rounds went by, Vito noticed the man who played after him was showing a tell. He reeked of experience (and alcohol), so his tell was minute, yet everyone had one. Every time a certain card was placed down, he eyed his hand thrice. It was twice every other time. Vito decided this was because that specific card would bust his hand open, so he attacked him with it. Sure enough, the guy bowed out soon after.

  Every person had a tell. Perhaps that was where a hint Vito desired would be hiding. The murders were efficient, which meant there was some sort of premeditation involved. Going up to inns at random and going from door to door wasn't how a professional operated. And this reeked of a professional.

  This meant there was a pattern to be found, and a trap would be possible after finding it.

  The rest of the game was a blur, with a large chunk of Vito's attention on mentally attempting to find a pattern, but he ensured that he dedicated enough attention to the game so he wouldn't lose prematurely. After a lucky pull, Vito was the last remaining alongside Valko, who proved to be a formidable opponent. Vito had to focus entirely on the game to combat Valko's impressive play and emerge victorious.

  The spectators clamored forward as the game commenced, bickering on who would be the next to play, but Vito stood up. He'd gotten what he came for.

  Valko walked him out of the building, to the disappointment of the crowd. "This was a good idea," Valko said when they got outside. "It's important for them to see you as a person rather than an unapproachable king at the top of his castle. Gives them more reliable loyalty, I think."

  "I plan to make this a weekly occurrence," Vito said with a nod. He paused, sensing from Valko's face that he had more to say. It occurred to him that despite his cards savvy, he'd be a bad diplomat because of the way his emotions showed plainly.

  Sure enough, Valko looked back discreetly to make sure no one had followed them out and leaned closer to Vito. "I heard about the inn murders." He caught Vito's raised eyebrows and hurried to add, "It's becoming a hot topic around the district. It will soon grow enough wings to reach the ears of the tourists and cause caution. I see it's on your radar, but may I suggest allowing the Tides to work as inn security rather than Borak's blokes? Bunch of cowards is what they are."

  Vito didn't even consider the suggestion. Naturally, he'd already thought about it. However, he had no idea what he was up against, and Borak and his men were more dispensable than Vito's own.

  Still, he needed to let down his captain's first idea softly. "I've considered that, but ultimately I don't want to scare away the perpetrator. My focus is on catching him redhanded."

  Valko's enthusiasm didn't falter. "I see. Still, if you need me to help, I'm more than willing."

  "I'll keep that in mind."

  Bekah was waiting for Vito when he returned to his office. She had been turned around in his chair, looking up at the hanging portraits - presumably of their father - and spun around quickly with saucer eyes when she heard the door open. Her excitement waned significantly when she identified her brother.

  "Glad to see you're happy to see me," Vito commented dryly.

  Bekah stood abruptly. "I-it's not like that. I..."

  "Thought you were our father," Vito finished for her. He walked around the table to take his chair as Bekah sullenly stepped out of the way. She had taken his death the hardest out of the siblings; Vito suspected it was because their father had shown her a much softer side than he did his sons.

  Vito decided a change of topic was in order. "I just spent some time at the Tide."

  Bekah took a deep breath with her eyes closed, visibly recollecting herself. When she reopened them, her gaze was steely and focused. "What for?"

  "Played a game of Chrono Deal with the guys. I figured it best I mingle and appear human; Valko agreed with the idea."

  Bekah effortlessly saw through him. "You replaced me with them for when you need to think, huh? What did you need to ponder on?"

  "They are hardly a substitute for your sharpness," he assured her honestly. "As for thinking, it's the same problem that's been on my mind the last few days."

  "And?"

  "We need to find a pattern or some sort of tell. This person evades detection, which means a fair amount of planning is involved. Where there's a plan, there's a weak block capable of collapsing it," Vito said, repeating one of his father's many sayings.

  Bekah nodded slowly. "Well, the attacks all happen in the wee hours of the morning. Usually in the sweet spot where activity is low in the district that never rests."

  "And the faces are not noticeable enough to stand out," Vito added. "It's a face that even if the inn workers see, they aren't alarmed." He'd considered this fact while playing in the Tide.

  "Then what about the wooden mask one of Borak's men mentioned?"

  "Borak employs drunkards who are more likely to chasing the ends of rainbows than be sober on guard duty in the least eventful hours of the entire district. Even if they did see someone in a wooden mask, it fits better that they aren't involved. It stands out too much, which deviates from the professional framework."

  Bekah took a second to digest his deduction, then nodded. It made sense. "Then who could it be? An inn worker perhaps...or a tenant."

  Vito considered the idea then shook his head. "Too obvious a paper trail; they'd have to be constantly switching inn occupations."

  Bekah sighed in frustration. She was more fit for discussing political power plays, this realm was usually beneath her.

  "Borak employs drunkards," Vito repeated quietly. "His recruitment standards are low, and playing the role of a drunkard is particularly simple. All someone would need to do is stroke the ogre's ego enough and act scared at the right times-"

  "And they'd be able to infiltrate his ranks with ease," Bekah finished with a grin.

  Vito mused this over for five minutes, in which Bekah knew to keep patiently silent. Finally, he raised his head and supplied her with a nod.

  "It fits best."