107

Chapter 107:

"Sounds like things went pretty well for you guys," said Yang, grinning across the table at Jaune and Ruby at breakfast. "So you've got a new outfit in the works, huh, Jaune?"

"Yep," said Jaune. "Took me for almost everything I had, but I'm gonna have a proper Huntsman's look, when this is over."

"It's true!" agreed Ruby. "Jaune's new combat clothes are gonna look super-awesome."

"It will be nice to see you wearing something halfway-decent," commented Weiss, throwing Jaune a wry look.

"Hey, I'm just upgrading the quality of my outfit," protested Jaune. "It's more about performance. I look fine the way I am...right?"

Even though they were sitting in the dining hall, with chattering students on all sides, everyone at RASP and RYNB's table swore they could hear crickets chirping.

"Guys...?" asked Jaune plaintively.

Ren coughed into his hand, before giving Jaune his most neutral expression. "You look very...you."

"He's not wrong," added Blake with a wry smile.

"Somehow, I think that's not a compliment," said Jaune, slumping down.

"Aww," cooed Nora. "There's no need to get down in the dumps, Jaune. You've got a new look coming, so that you won't look like you anymore."

"That's hitting below the belt," grumbled Jaune, slumping while the others laughed.

Ruby nudged him with her elbow. "Come on, handsome, we've got class in a few minutes. Get finished eating. You can mope later."

"Right, right..." grumbled Jaune, eating quickly.

A few minutes later, the bell sounded, informing them that they had five minutes to get to their first class of the day. As they walked, they talked about the unexpected new wrinkle to their schedule.

"So who do you think our new professor is gonna be?" asked Nora.

"I'm just glad we won't have to spend the entire class listening to Professor Port's stories," said Yang, stretching her arms over her head.

"It's a bit odd for us to have such a drastic change to our schedule, midway through the semester," said Pyrrha.

"At least the name sounds interesting," said Ruby.

The others nodded.

The change had been quite unexpected. Upon waking up Monday morning, they'd all received a message on their scrolls, announcing the change to their schedules. First-year Grimm Studies had been replaced with a new class, Law Enforcement and Support.

"It sounds like we're gonna be training to be cops," said Jaune.

"Well...that seems like a valid possibility," said Blake.

They entered the classroom. It was the same classroom used for Port's lectures. However, the stocky Huntsman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, it appeared that their new teacher had yet to arrive. The boards, rather than being covered by sketches and notes on different Grimm types, were instead covered by maps of the Kingdom, starting with one of Vale in the center, with the flanking blackboards displaying detailed maps of the individual districts.

Upon entering the room, Ruby froze, her gaze immediately zeroing in on the corner. Her body went still, save for her left hand, which inched towards the handle of her sword.

"Ruby...?" asked Jaune, everyone noticing her reaction.

Ruby was silent, staring for a moment, before relaxing and letting out a breath. "It's nothing," she said. "Well...it's not nothing. But it's nothing really bad."

"Ooookaaay..." drawled Yang. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You'll find out," said Ruby, leading them to their seats.

A few minutes later, Ruby twitched as she sensed their "instructor" approaching. What she'd sensed before had already helped her to figure out what was going on. She didn't want to spoil the surprise though. This would probably be the least-boring class of the year.

The door flew open, and their new instructor sauntered in, his appearance drawing shocked gasps throughout the room as they caught sight of his orange hair, white jacket, and signature black bowler hat.

"Roman Torchwick!" shouted Blake, shooting to her feet.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Yang, standing next to her partner.

"Hey there," greeted Roman with a merry wave of his hand, cane hooked over his right forearm. "Sit down, kiddies, class is starting after all."

"You can't be our teacher," protested Weiss.

"You bet I can," replied Roman, smiling even more widely. "Now, if you kids don't want detention, sit down. Ozzy said I have the authority to give detention."

"Yes, but I also asked you not to abuse it," said the man himself, entering the room after Roman.

"Professor!" said Weiss, her gaze going to Ozpin. "Is this man really...?"

"Yes," replied Ozpin, giving the entire room one of his trademark cryptic smiles. "Roman Torchwick and I have reached an arrangement. In exchange for the eventual commutation of his sentence, Mr. Torchwick shall join the staff of Beacon, during which he shall educate you students on the nuances of dealing with the criminal elements of the Kingdoms, using his...unique...perspective."

"Unique perpspective," Roman commented, twirling his cane around his fingers. "Consider yourselves lucky, kiddies. You get a first-class education in the ways of the underworld, from an actual member of the underworld. We're gonna have fun, I promise."

"Uh...I'm kinda worried about what definition someone like you has for 'fun'," commented Jaune.

Roman laughed. "We've got someone ahead of the curve here. Give the boy a gold star."

Ozpin chuckled as well. "Well then, now that I have verified Mr. Torchwick's credentials, I shall give him the floor. Please give him your utmost attention, and the respect you would any other member of the faculty."

As soon as the door closed, Roman moved to the center of the floor, planting his cane and resting his hands atop the crook. "Well, now that he's gone, we can have some fun. Let's start with a little intro. I'm sure you've seen my name in the papers...along with that God-awful mugshot they keep using for me, but we should still observe some proprieties."

He raised his right hand. "The name's Roman Torchwick. As you lot probably already know, I was, until recently, one of the top thieves in Vale. I had a pretty solid reputation, and I've dabbled in all sorts of crime: from theft, to arson, to jaywalking. In fact, my at-large status holds the current record for any criminal in the Kingdom.

"And to think that my first class would include the person who brought that record to an end. How ya doin', Red?"

"I'm doing fine, Professor Torchwick," replied Ruby, giving him a confident smile. Her blithe reaction to him drew shocked looks from her friends.

Roman grinned back at her. "Good to see someone's on the ball today. But let's not have any of that 'Professor' stuff." He wagged a finger at the class. "I have absolutely no academic accreditation, so I'm not 'Professor' anything. You can call me Roman, Torchwick, Mr. Torchwick-Hell!-call me whatever you like...but let's keep it to titles that wouldn't have your parents washing your mouth out with soap, okay."

Ruby giggled.

"Ruby!" Weiss whispered harshly. "How are you so all right with this?"

"Yeah! You helped put this jerk away," added Yang.

"Well, I figured he was our new teacher, when I noticed Neo in the corner of the room," Ruby whispered back. "Besides, I'm kinda used to being mentored by a criminal."

They all froze as they realized what she was talking about.

"Oh...right," said Jaune.

"Now then, back to the actual teaching part of this class," said Roman, beginning to pace across the floor. "I have to at least look like I'm trying to do my job after all."

His jest rang a bit hollow, nobody but Ruby apparently finding any humor in it.

"Going back to my self-intro..." said Roman, picking up where he left off. "I got into the biz fairly early on. I was born in the lower-end of Vale's residential district, a stone's throw away from where the Faunus Quarter is now. Let me tell you, back in those days, it was pretty damn crowded. My family and I weren't exactly destitute, but we sure as hell weren't well off, or even middle class for that matter.

"'Course, all that changed when we decided to get in on the ground floor of a new project, something that was supposed to make everything better for everybody, opening up a new extension that would give us room to breathe, new jobs, new opportunities, and new lives; a spectacular little place known as...Mountain Glenn. I'm sure you kids have heard of that one."

All around the room, faces paled.

"Keep in mind, I was just a little tyke, when this happened," continued Roman, his mannerisms not even indicating that he was speaking about anything painful or tragic. "I just followed my parents to their new place, all of us expecting this to be the start of something great.

"'Course, then the Grimm had to ruin everything. That sucks, but that's life for ya. I won't bore you with the details. We went underground. Then some moron blew open an entire chamber of underground Grimm, and we were sunk. I managed to make it on the last train out, before the tunnels were demolished. My parents didn't. Sob story over."

Despite Roman's completely casual delivery, the expressions of anger and hostility on the students' faces were waning, replaced by shock and sorrow at hearing about what lay in Roman's past.

Roman continued on without breaking stride. "It wasn't all sunshine and roses after that, let me tell you. There I was, alone in the world, no parents, no income, no support network. I could've gone into the orphanages, but they weren't nice places back then. So I made my life out in the streets. I stole, mugged people, basically did whatever it took to get by. To keep from getting into too much trouble, I also worked for some local outfits, who used me as a gofer; you know, 'Go fer this...Go fer that...' all that jazz.

"With all that going on, I learned a bunch of stuff. I learned to pick pockets. I learned how to mug people without getting caught. I learned the ins and outs of a dozen different illicit business models. I also learned that you can't really trust anyone. If I wanted to survive, I had to be forever looking out for Number One, because anyone I put my trust in was likely to stab me in the back.

"Now, naturally, not everybody who enters the criminal lifestyle does it because they want to make a career out of it. I was just trying to get by. But let me tell you something. This lowly thief, this piece of scum from the runoff of the gutters of Mountain Glenn had a dream."

Roman's voice and gestures grew more dramatic, as though he were a great statesman delivering a stirring oration to the masses. Fittingly enough the students had found themselves completely drawn in.

He's incredible! thought Blake, shaking herself out of the enraptured sensation she was getting from listening to him. From everything we heard, he was originally supposed to be the one working with the White Fang for Cinder. If Ruby hadn't caught him, things would have probably been much worse for us.

Roman continued. "My dream was to make something of myself, to leave the streets behind, and obtain some real status. My dream was to become a Huntsman-Yes...really.

"Of course, in order to accomplish that, you need a few things. You need training for one. It's not like I could've drawn up a set of fake transcripts, then lied my way right into an Academy after all."

Jaune turned bright red, and ducked his face, stifling a cough, while his friends glanced at him sidelong. Thankfully, this little act went unnoticed by the other students in the room.

"My options were pretty limited," confessed Roman. "I could have tried to apprentice under someone, but I didn't know any Huntsmen. Imagine that... My other option was to get into Combat School. Only problem was, I didn't exactly have money for tuition."

People around the room frowned at that, sharing an unspoken frustration at the very issue Roman had pointed out. The four Academies were free to attend, provided the students were accepted, then completed the Initiation. Combat Schools were different though. Created to help students prepare for entry into the Academies, they required tuition from their students, which meant that prospective students needed money. More than a few people around the room had memories of families scrimping to be able to afford the cost, forgoing common luxuries that more well-off families took for granted. Some had taken out student loans, which they and their families were still paying off.

"Well...I should correct that," continued Roman. "I didn't have legit money for tuition. Of course, being the resourceful fellow I was, I worked hard at all sorts of things, and I eventually scraped together enough to pay for entry into Watchtower Academy. Not exactly the top school, but an affordable one. Once there, I got my Aura unlocked, started learning the ways of fighting like a Huntsman, and even built a weapon for myself. Life was good..."

Roman sighed and shook his head. "'Course, all good things must come to an end, sooner or later. Unfortunately, my good thing came to an end on the 'sooner' side of that equation. I don't want to get into the messy details right now, but it was one of those classic old stories involving a bully, whose parents were big donors to the school, which allowed him to get away with crap that would've gotten anyone else expelled. Long story short, we had a conflict. His daddy looked up my history. My more...uh...creative methods of making my tuition money came to light, and I wound up expelled.

"And that, kiddies, was the end of Roman Torchwick, future-Huntsman, and the beginning of Roman Torchwick, the master thief. I was out on the streets once more. Your average Combat School dropout might go into the police or the military. But with a black mark on my record like the one I had, I wasn't going to get into either of those professions. So I went back into my business, armed with my fancy new fighting moves, and my lovely new weapon."

He twirled his cane artfully.

"Of course, my first big score was the family of the little twit who got me expelled in the first place. I made sure to clean everything out, then sink any hope they had of getting anything back. Last I heard, they were trying to make a fresh start in Vacuo. Wonder how that's going for them…"

Roman shrugged, then shook his head. "Right then, apologies for the long-winded exposition. Now that I've introduced myself, it's time to get down to brass tacks. In this class, you're gonna learn how, as Huntsmen and Huntresses, you might wind up dealing with the underworld."

Silence followed his announcement, which only prompted Roman to grin. "I can see some pretty skeptical stares out there. I understand. Rounding up crooks, like my humble self, is supposed to be the job of those wonderful constables and keepers of the peace. You folks didn't sign up to do the cops' jobs for them, now did you?"

Many in the audience found themselves nodding their heads in affirmation, with only a few beginning to see Roman's point, particularly the members of RASP and RYNB. They'd been at the forefront of dealing with the problem of the White Fang, and also dealing with the police's lack of interest in proper investigation, particularly their attempts to scapegoat innocent faunus in an effort to show results.

"That's not to say the cops are incompetent," explained Roman. "Oh sure, quite a few of them are. After all, a whole bunch of them are basically there because they couldn't hack it well enough to get where you lot are now. Let's do a quick numbers game. Who here knows how many applicants were accepted to Beacon this year?"

Silence followed his query, and Roman nodded in affirmation. "Thought so. It's not like anyone shared the official admission figures with you kids. The fact is that this year's pool of applicants was sixty-seven."

Soft gasps filled the air.

Roman chuckled. "I figure that you probably noticed that nowhere near that number came back from the Initiation. Now, let's be honest here. I don't want to tell you that Ozzy wasn't serious about the statement he made at the beginning of the Initiation. But he has some heart. While you kids were out there, fighting the good fight, the teachers were on watch. Anyone who was completely hopeless they pulled out if they could. I heard only a couple of dumb brats got themselves offed this year, all told.

"On top of that, there were only so many 'relics' for you to retrieve, which means that it was also first come, first serve for the people who would make it in. Those who couldn't hack it, or were just plain too slow, wound up finding a bunch of empty rock pedestals, and the revelation that they hadn't made the grade. Sucks to be them, doesn't it."

Ruby and her friends suddenly felt very uneasy, remembering that they were the last teams to make it back from the Initiation. Granted, that had mainly been because they'd been held up, dealing with the Orochi, which had been after they had gotten their relics. However, it was frightening to think that, had they been only a little bit slower, they might not have made it into the school at all.

Roman continued, unaware of what certain people thought about what he'd just said. "And that's not even factoring in the people who didn't even make it past the application stage. You gotta feel something for the poor souls who sank money into training, building weapons, and getting an education, only to be turned away at the door.

"Now then, I wonder if any of you have given any thought to what happens to all those poor, unfortunate souls who didn't make the cut. They've gotten Combat School training, or combat training of some kind, usually. They've had their Auras unlocked. They've even got some pretty snazzy weapons, most of the time. Oh sure, they could always try again next year. But I've heard it can be something of a mark of shame to have taken the Initiation twice. Not to mention that's a whole year paying off loans and trying to make ends meet, while waiting for the next admissions period to swing around again. Not many people try it. Where do you think they go? I think I gave you the answer already."

"The police," said Blake, her ears perking beneath her bow.

"Or the military," said Weiss, thinking about her own sister.

"Bingo!" chimed Roman, gesturing at the pair with his cane. "Granted, the latter isn't the equivalent to Atlas' program. Vale's military is scooping up most of the people who couldn't hack it at the Academy, so that doesn't reach the level of the Kingdom that's basically turned their Academy into their own personal soldier-farm."

Weiss bristled at the insulting reference to Atlas, even though she couldn't quite deny what Roman was suggesting.

"Along with them are the dropouts from the Combat Schools," continued Roman. "'Course, these aren't like me, who got kicked out because they picked a fight with the wrong asshole. No, they're just the ones who couldn't hack it. Because of that, the capability of Aura-users amongst the police and military is..." He held his right hand up, and tilted it back and forth. "...sub-par, for the most part. Oh, you get the occasional hidden gem, once in a blue moon. But they're pretty damn rare in the end."

Roman rapped his cane against the floor. "'Course, even if they're the failures and dropouts, these are still aura-users, with Combat School training, at least. Against those kind of people, regular crooks wouldn't stand a chance. But then...there are people like me. Next Question! Once I went back into the business, what do you think the most valuable service I provided was?"

There was hesitation on the students' end, before the answer clicked for Jaune. "You unlocked people's Auras," he said.

"Perfect answer!" cheered Roman. "That's right. Sure, I'm a top notch thief, but the first thing that got me really established in Vale was providing that particular service. Not only that, but I had something else to bring to the table, all the lessons I'd learned in Combat School, lessons that I was able to pass on down to the people I'd just unlocked. Granted, I'm no expert educator, so my results weren't exactly on a Huntsman's level. But I like to think that it allowed the people I educated to give the police some grief."

Not to mention their victims, thought Blake, glaring at Roman.

Roman had moved to the blackboard that displayed the map of the whole of Vale. Picking up a piece of chalk, he went to an open corner, and drew three separate circles on an empty part of the board. "Now then, let's talk jurisdiction. It's supposed to go like this...The police handle the criminal element, like yours truly. The military handles foreign issues, like dealing with hostile Kingdoms, and bandits. The former ain't much of an issue anymore, thanks to the treaty. But the military is always standing by, just in case. And finally, Huntsmen and Huntresses handle the Grimm.

"In a perfect world, everyone would keep to their circles, and mind their own business. That's the way it should work. In fact, more than a few members of the cops and the military think it works that way. But there's one big issue at stake here. What do you folks think it is?"

Blake gasped, remembering hearing the same speech, almost word for word, from Ozpin. "The Grimm are drawn by negative emotions," she said. "Criminals can affect that, and create an increase in negativity, making the Grimm a greater threat."

Roman snapped his fingers. "Right on target," he said. "That's exactly what I'm talking about.

"Remember kids, crooks aren't in the business of spreading happiness and rainbows. In fact, if we're good at what we do, we wind up leaving quite a bit of unpleasant feelings in our wake. A successful criminal enterprise, in turn, creates a pretty substantial rise in negativity, which is only going to draw more Grimm, bigger Grimm, or both. In other words, that means that, as Huntsmen and Huntresses, if criminal activity is showing itself to be too much for the police to handle, you have a stake in taking action.

"Because of that, it can look more like this…" Roman drew another trio of circles, these ones linked together, with the circle representing Huntsmen and Huntresses in the center interlocked with the police and military circles on either side.

The students all nodded. It was a bit weird to have their "teacher," a man who was a prolific criminal himself, and copping a fairly unrepentant attitude about it, pointing out how important they might be to policing the Kingdom.

"Naturally, the cops ain't too happy about that kind of intervention. No one likes the implication that they can't do their jobs, however indirect it might be. Cops hate Huntsmen sticking their noses into police business, no matter how in over their heads they might have been before. I myself have taken advantage of that particular set of conflicting interests to slip away more than once.

"That means learning how to deal with criminals and crooks is gonna be a critical part of your curriculum here, and why I am here to bring you kids up to speed. Who better to teach you about how to handle crooks than a crook himself? And your practical is starting right now."

Roman took his cane in both hands, raising it and rapping the end against the floor, an authoritative sound ringing throughout the room, his smile becoming sly and dangerous. Abruptly, the air within the classroom changed, tension rising, though only a few could figure out why.

"Alright kiddies," said Roman, his smile becoming a fierce grin, "time for a pop-quiz. Quick show of hands...Who here brought their weapon today?"

After a second's hesitation, Ruby raised her hand. Glancing around, she saw she was alone.

Roman's smile faltered. He lowered his head, shaking it, closing his eyes and clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Well now...this is no good. It's the first day. But it looks like only one of you is gonna leave this room with a passing grade."

"What the heck?" asked Russel from a couple rows back and several seats down from where RASP and RYNB were sitting. "This is a classroom course. Why would we bring our weapons?"

"It makes perfect sense to me," said Roman, his gaze focusing on Russel. Ruby gasped softly at the sense of threat from Roman intensifying. "After all...I've got my weapon. Right. Here."

Roman raised his cane, aiming the end right at Russel, the cap at the end flipping up to become the sight for the gun barrel hidden in the cane's shaft, while Roman's finger rested against the trigger.

Startled gasps filled the room, several students shooting to their feet, Ruby's friends amongst them.

"FREEZE!"

Roman's voice rang with absolute authority, locking everyone into place, as though they were paralyzed.

"Anyone makes one wrong move, and poor mohawk-boy's gonna get a taste of what my baby here can do," said Roman, his grin now savage.

No one dared to so much as twitch.

"Well now...would you look at that," said Roman. "Here you kids are, students of Beacon Academy, the cream of the crop, Huntsmen and Huntresses in training, the future defenders of humanity...and now I've got all of you right under my thumb. What happened?"

Sensing silence in response to his question, Roman chuckled. "No takers. Fine. I'll explain. You kids got complacent. You assumed that, since this is a classroom, that this is a 'safe space', that no one would ever do something as crazy as pointing a weapon at you in a place like this. And thanks to that, you've left yourselves wide open.

"And this is the kind of issue you'll be going up against when you deal with the crooks like me. We are what we are because we break the rules. Let your guard down, assume you're safe, underestimate your opponent, and the ones like me are primed to make you pay for that. Anything can happen on the streets, and people are a thousand-times more unpredictable than the Grimm. That's why everyone, except for Red, failed today's quiz. And now...Mohawk-Boy's gonna pay the penalty for that."

"No!" shouted Pyrrha, raising her hand, preparing to use her Semblance to stop Roman.

Pyrrha froze, the edge of a sharp tip tickling her neck for a fraction of a second, the air beside and behind her shattering as Neo appeared out of nowhere. The blade extending from the tip of Neo's parasol was only pointed at a Pyrrha's neck for a fraction of a second before Ruby's sword knocked it aside, forcing Neo to dodge back.

But Neo's intervention had done its job. Roman pulled the trigger. With a flash, a screeching bolt of yellow erupted from the end of his cane, flying through the air to strike Russel dead on, exploding with an angry crackle. His teammates dove to the side to avoid being caught by the explosion, but Russel had been too transfixed by Roman's animosity to even think of dodging.

"You bastard!" shouted Yang, surging to her feet, eyes blazing red.

"Yang! Stop!" shouted Ruby, grabbing her sister by the arm.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Yang, whipping her head around to stare incredulously at her sister. "That scumbag just-!"

She was cut off when Roman started laughing uproariously, the previous tension in the room vanishing like an illusion. "Oh man! I really had you kids going there for a minute, didn't I?"

"Huh?" grunted Yang, her eyes returning to their normal color as she turned her confused gaze back to Roman.

"Like the good folks of Beacon would actually let someone like me get away with actually harming a student," said Roman, chuckling. "Well, Mohawk-Boy didn't exactly get off scot-free, as you can see."

He gestured up at where Russel was sitting. The smoke from Roman's explosive round cleared, allowing everyone to see the boy. As soon as they saw him, more than a few snorts and stifled laughs filled the room.

Physically speaking, Russel was unharmed. But his pride was certainly taking a bruising. His clothes were smeared with soot. However, the most prominent change was his trademark mohawk. His hair bristling and sticking out in all directions, as though he'd been charged with static electricity.

"Your own Professor Peach doctored the rounds in my lovely Melodic Cudgel," said Roman, gently smacking the shaft of his cane against his left palm. "They won't cause any real injuries, but they do sting quite a bit...and they make you look pretty stupid too."

Russel glared at Roman, all too aware that the rest of the class, even his own teammates, were snickering and laughing at his "makeover".

"And so, welcome to your introduction to my disciplinary methods," said Roman, grinning. "I fully admit that I'm a guy who loves the sound of his own voice, so I'm gonna do a lot of talking. That said, I heard that the esteemed and venerable Professor Port, whose course mine is replacing, was the kind of guy who wouldn't notice if you used his class to take a nap. Don't expect me to be nearly so kind...or clueless.

"If I think you're not paying attention, if I catch you getting distracted, well...you saw what happened to Mohawk-Boy, didn't you? For all you know, I might decide to pop a shot off in your direction, just because, and I can be a lot quicker on the draw than I just was, so you need to pay attention."

Roman's last two words were supplemented by his abruptly flicking the muzzle of his cane-gun up, and firing another screeching shot, this one firing straight at Ruby. Rather than draw her sword, Ruby stood up from her seat, sweeping her cloak to catch the incoming bolt, and deflecting it away from her to detonate against a corner of the ceiling in a shower of sparks.

"And that's how ya do it," aid Roman, pleased with Ruby's reaction. "Thanks for the demo, Red."

"My pleasure," said Ruby, sitting back down, her friends watching her with baffled gazes.

"On that note, let me introduce you to my T.A," said Roman. "Neo...if you would."

Neo appeared beside Roman, the air beside him shattering like glass to reveal the diminutive girl, her sudden appearance prompting a gasp from RASP and RYNB, save for Ruby, as they'd forgotten about Neo, and hadn't even noticed her leaving their position.

"Neo's been my partner in crime for quite a few years," said Roman. "Unlike me, she never got herself caught, and she's still doing some work in the Kingdom, so you won't see her all the time...not that you'll always be able to see her when she is here." He chuckled. "You needn't worry. Like me, she's working on the side of angels, for now. When she is here, she'll be flitting around, maybe launching a few attacks of her own. As you can see, she can be pretty damn elusive, so you'll really need to keep your guards up. On top of that, even when you can see her...you still can't trust her."

To prove his point, the image of Neo on Roman's left shattered, while the air to his right shattered, revealing her again.

Roman's smile vanished. "I may seem like I'm playing around, but this is serious. When dealing with folks like me, you need to seriously keep your guards up. Never let yourself get carried away by assumptions. There's always another trick, a hidden card, a secret weapon; and, if you let yourself get too complacent, you'll wind up being hit by it. Trust is dangerous, when dealing with our kind. Don't get me wrong. On some levels, trust is the only thing that keeps us from descending into complete anarchy. But you need to learn who you can trust, what you can trust them with, and how far that trust goes. And that kind of caution and awareness starts here...with me."

Roman had the entirety of the class in the palm of his hand now, the students hanging onto his every word.

"Now that I've laid out the format of this course, let's go over the content," said Roman, his smile returning. "We'll be looking at crime, of course. What kind of crime, why people become criminals, how they do it, where they do it; this course is gonna cover all that and more. You're gonna learn about the kind of resources we use, and even how you can use some of them yourselves.

"And while I'll fully admit that I'm in love with the sound of my own voice, and I absolutely adore the prospect of having a captive audience, there will be more to this course than me simply talking at you brats. We'll be doing some practical exercises, and even some fieldwork in the Kingdom. But I ain't gonna lay it all out for ya. That too is gonna be part of you needing to keep your guard up."

The students shared nervous glances with each other. The angry undercurrent that had been present when Roman had first sauntered into the classroom had largely evaporated. What had replaced it couldn't be called "positive," by any stretch of the imagination. The students were now regarding their new instructor with a wary respect, and an uneasy caution. Whatever else they thought about him, and being taught by him, there was one single unifying conclusion that all the students had reached...

Whatever else...this course promised to be anything but boring.

"This is most...unorthodox," noted Ironwood, watching a video feed from Roman's first class.

"Indeed," said Ozpin. "However, I believe that our previous issues came about from allowing our previous methods to become 'orthodox' in the first place. We became too inured with routine formats and subjects, which prompted us to lower our guards. I believe that Mr. Torchwick will provide a substantial wakeup call, not merely for our students, but us as well."

"I have to admit, he seems to have been wasted as a criminal," observed Glynda, observing Ozpin's shoulder. "The man is a born teacher. His ability to command the respect of his students is nothing short of stunning."

Ozpin found himself chuckling. "That's a rather impressive sentiment from you, Glynda. I figured you would be more opposed to his introduction to our faculty."

"He has agreed to all the conditions we provided him," said Glynda, "even the ones requiring his monitoring to ensure he abides by those conditions. The only thing that worries me is Ms. Politan, and her ability to slip about unnoticed. Monitoring her will be all but impossible."

"On some level, we will simply have to trust," said Ozpin. "Ms. Fall used the threat of death towards Mr. Torchwick as an enticement to ensure Ms. Politan's support and loyalty, which only served to prompt her to search for the means to escape Ms. Fall's control. It is my hope that showing trust and regard to them will help them remain on our side."

"That remains to be seen," said Ironwood. "We should be taking Torchwick's lecture to heart ourselves. We cannot afford to let down our guard with him, no matter how cooperative he might be."

Ozpin chuckled again. "And I suspect that that is exactly how Mr. Torchwick would like it."

"Whew...that was crazy," commented Yang, stretching as she and the others stepped out into the all, following Roman's class. "I still can't believe you're okay with this, Ruby."

"Seeing as you're the one responsible for him being behind bars in the first place, I thought you'd be a bit more offended," added Weiss.

"Nah, I'm kinda used to that sort of thing," said Ruby, grinning cheerfully. "It's kinda like being at home again."

"Uh...How?" asked Yang.

"I told you I've had to fight off assassins before, right?" asked Ruby.

"You mentioned it once or twice," said Pyrrha.

Ruby gave her friends a quick rundown of how her status as a member of the Royal Family (unofficially) resulted in lighter sentences for the people who attempted to kill her, which left her friends gobsmacked.

"'Course, none of them ever came back as a guest lecturer in any of my classes, which would have been kinda cool," said Ruby, finishing her explanation.

Her friends all stared at her. "Your family is so weird," said Nora finally.

"That's putting it lightly," said Blake.

"Indeed," said Weiss. "In the Kingdoms, attacking a member of the Council is tantamount to treason. You'd be lucky if you didn't wind up with the Death Penalty."

Ruby shrugged. "Well, in the Kingdoms, Council members aren't expected to be among the strongest members of the Kingdom. The Taishiro are expected to look after themselves. They have 'Guards,' but that's sort an inaccurate title, 'cause they're support staff, instead of actual guards."

"Support staff...?" asked Jaune.

"Well, it's the closest I can come to," explained Ruby. "It's actually a bit different for each of them. Kaa-san's Imperial Guards are the clan's couriers, and handle the delivery of missives across the continent. Makoto-sama's basically act as government inspectors to make sure that the clan's doctors and physicians are up to snuff. Murasame-sama's are all his apprentices, who provide the weapons and armor for the clan's warriors. I've never dealt with Haruka-sama's, but I think they're all assistants for her engineering work."

"So they aren't bodyguards at all," said Yang.

"Nope," agreed Ruby. "The Taishiro are all waaay stronger than their Guards. So, if anyone was actually a threat to one of them, actual bodyguards would be pretty useless."

"That makes sense," said Jaune.

"But still, the idea that attacking one of them would be worth nothing more than a slap on the wrist is...ludicrous," protested Weiss.

Ruby shrugged. "Well, to most of them, an assassination attempt is like a fun distraction, so they don't mind it all that much. The worst punishments are reserved for the ones who endanger bystanders or attack civilians."

"That's very...noble of them," said Pyrrha.

"It certainly explains how you can be so at ease around Torchwick," added Ren.

"Well, when it comes to us needing to be on our guards, he isn't wrong," mused Blake. "After all, even at Beacon, we've been subjected to threats, even though this is supposed to be a safe place."

The others nodded. Cinder and her allies had infiltrated the school, after all. Their presence alone ensured that Beacon wasn't completely safe, especially when they'd gone after Ashley. It also reminded them of the abduction attempt on Ruby in Vale, a couple weeks ago. Perhaps Roman's presence, and his unique approach to teaching, were a much-needed wakeup call.

Reminded of the attempted kidnapping, Yang's eyes widened. "Actually, maybe we can start taking advantage of what we learned from Torchwick right away."

"What are you talking about?" asked Blake, looking askance at her partner.

"I'm just thinking that there's something we can do to find out who's after Ruby," said Yang. "And, if Torchwick can't help us with that, there's someone who can."

"Oh, riiight!" observed Nora. "There was that Junior-guy you went to see with Neptune."

"Yep," agreed Yang. "If we need intel on who's after Ruby this time, who better to go to than the professional information broker?"

"So long as you remember that paying him works better than thrashing him," commented Ren wryly.

Yang wilted at that. "All right, all right..."

"You know, Doc, if you're gonna call me out, we oughta get this over quick," Mercury called out. "My new employers have me on a pretty short leash, and the last thing I need is them wondering where I'm wandering off too."

It was the setup out of every crime drama ever made. He was alone in a dark alley, a single light shining down from above. He was in the open, exposed, called out here by the text on his scroll from Watts, instructing him to "report" to this location to explain himself. It hadn't been easy, slipping away from the hidden base Eira had him secreted to, after he'd been removed from military custody. Just because he'd agreed to work for them didn't mean that he was trusted to come and go at will.

"Well then," said Arthur Watts, emerging into the light, arms folded behind him, "that is a sorry disappointment. We can start by hearing your explanation for why you have chosen to abandon service to Her Grace."

"I wouldn't call it abandonment," said Mercury, turning to face Watts with a confident grin. "I've been setting up future opportunities."

"Never mind that," rumbled a low, powerful voice behind Mercury, prompting him to stiffen nervously, "what we need to learn, first and foremost, is what has happened to Cinder. Why are you alone?"

Mercury's smile faltered and faded as he turned to see Hazel Rainart step into the pool of light behind him, the man's enormous, imposing presence wiping any trace of smug assurance from Mercury's manner in an instant.

"Yes," cooed a higher-pitched voice from above. "We want answers, and you'd best give them. After all, if they aren't satisfactory...well..." The voice dissolved into the cackles of a madman.

Mercury swallowed, all previous confidence fleeing as he looked up to see a hunched figure, perched on the light that was the sole source of illumination in this empty alleyway. Tyrian Callows dropped down directly in front of Mercury, his leering face only a few inches away from Mercury's own, prompting the poor boy to stumble back, pressing back against the wall as Tyrian's scorpion-tail emerged from beneath his jacket, reaching forward to tickle the skin of Mercury's neck with the needlelike point of his stinger.

"It's quite fitting really," commented Watts, stepping closer. "You are short on time...and we are short on patience. So now...explain yourself."

Mercury's eyes darted around. He was in the presence of Salem's inner circle, the ones who reported to the boss-woman herself. And now, every ounce of their attention and malice was focused on him. Mercury swallowed the bobbing of his throat making the skin of his neck press unpleasantly against the tickling tip of Tyrian's stinger.

"Cinder's dead," he said simply.

The response was immediate. Hazel and Watts both flinched, even Hazel's normally stoic and unflappable demeanor revealing surprise. Tyrian's smile faltered, and he drew back, his tail retreating.

"Explain," rumbled Hazel.

Mercury's eyes darted back and forth between the three men. If he wasn't careful, he felt there was every chance that any of these three would take out their wrath over Cinder's failure on him. He had to choose his next words very carefully.