Silent Arguments

Marvel was walking down the stairs with an antique revolver in his hand when one of his private scouts had been waiting for him in the parlor.

"Boss, I thought you're already sleeping," the scout said soon as he spotted Marvel, relieved that an hour of his waiting didn't go to waste.

Marvel stopped right before the young man who dressed in black, half of his face was covered in a black mask. He lifted his black cap a bit so Marvel could identify him. His name was Seven.

Seven is one of Yerevan's secret agents who goes undercover and does infiltration. When Marvel created the team, he named all ten members from zero to nine - like, literally - and each of them has different jobs - although mostly to investigate - that's why they need to hide their distinctive features and disguise for most of the time.

"Soon after Asta left the company this evening, a man in a business suit stopped him by the road. After they talked for like five minutes, the man called a taxi which brought them to a hotel nearby."

Seven reported the result of his investigation in a low voice, just enough to let only Marvel hear him.

"I'm convinced it was their first meeting, but from the way Asta voluntarily followed the man just after a brief talk, he must be a broker. I thought they were having sex in exchange for some information, but soon after they checked out of their room, I inspected the bed and it was so clean and tidy like it has never been touched. The toilet papers had been pulled a few meters away, but the amount lost was almost unnoticeable. The things that changed position were the remote controls as they might use the television and the air conditioner. I couldn't hear their conversation because the television was loud, but I believe they didn't do anything but talk during that two-hour private moment... which is suspicious of why they bothered to go to a hotel just for that. A broker usually wants money for a piece of information, so there must have been a sum of cash withdrawal in Asta's bank account, but none of it was found. The good news for now is, I'm certain that there's no element of drugs involved in their mysterious business. We could have found the man's identity from his remains if they at least had sex, but as they didn't, we don't have any clue yet."

Without a word, Marvel listened to the information carefully. He was the one who sent Seven to tail Asta and disguised as a hotel waiter this evening.

During the live investigation, Seven constantly notified what he was observing to Marvel by text, but it was just now that he informed him about the result. He thought there might have been an act of treachery, even an involvement of drugs that he was given the order to spy on the fellow subordinate. But, from his inspection and examination, Asta was clean.

No drugs equal no treachery. In other words, there's nothing to worry about.

It could be nothing at all, but it could be something else as well.

"Forget about the sex. That was just an excuse. I know they didn't go to a hotel to fuck," Marvel finally responded, trying to ignore the remnant of bitterness in his mouth after sprinting off a cigar.

It could be the cigar that his mouth felt bitter, or it was just his raw emotion.

"You already know that?" Seven didn't expect Marvel to know that much before he even heard the details as hotels are the most common places - after the red-light districts - the members go for sex. "How do you know they didn't have sex, Boss?"

"There's no bruises..." Marvel mumbled to himself without saying the rest, making it difficult for Seven to understand it.

Marvel knew his underlings so well. He just pretended he didn't know anything and made sure they didn't even notice that. He always acted as if he was an easy target for those who intended to use him, letting them get what they wanted despite how much he knew, and then one day, he would show up with every card in his hand without them being able to deny him.

But, this time, he wasn't patient enough to wait for the truth to reveal itself and so he moved according to his intuition.

And he was right.

Standing still, confusion got the best of Seven. Did Marvel just actually say "bruises"? Those people were mostly just chatting, so what about the bruises? Was there a fight? They couldn't be fighting in a hotel room, right? Besides, isn't it more important to figure out what both of them talk about before anything else?

"I've heard enough. Get lost," Marvel snapped, frowning in aggravation as his way was blocked by Seven who was unmoving in front of him.

"Oh! I-I'm sorry, Sir!" Seven immediately moved aside and gave his boss the whole stairway.

Now that it had been cleared that there was no involvement of drugs, the situation should have been settled down a bit. But, for some reason, Marvel didn't seem that happy and it was an enigma for Seven. He wondered if he said or did something that pissed the boss, but he still couldn't find any reasonable cause to make him angry. Was it about the result of the investigation that perhaps, drugs weren't on his list this time? It was kind of weird, but most importantly, his eyes...

Everybody knows Marvel rarely shows emotions. But, now, holding a gun while making such an expression, he looked like he would fire it at whoever gets in his way.

And if drugs aren't his concerns in the current case, does it mean, this time, his attention is on the person behind it?

A certain person emerged on Seven's mind. All this time, he acted like he knew nothing about what his boss and the secretary might have together. But, isn't he an observer? Instinctively, he notices what happens around him.

Yet, of course, how could you not notice when a person is given a specific treatment among the rest of the house? Isn't it just Marvel not giving a single damn about what other people think? Then again, it's not like those people have the capacity to step into his authority, and the way nobody ever speaks a word despite knowing about the matter shows who holds the power here.

Seven thought Marvel isn't someone who would lay his hands on his subordinates, but he was wrong.

He might either be wrong or that one person is an exception, he had no idea.

"What a complicated man..." Seven mumbled as he saw Marvel disappear by the grand door of the mansion.

***

The sound of a classic water fountain in the middle of the mansion's front yard filled the night, rhythmically dripping upon the pool as if their purpose was to ease the frigid tranquility of the dark. Far between those dancing drops was seen a lone figure walking.

"Boss," Tanaka spotted the figure and greeted him.

He was guarding the mansion with some other men when he saw Marvel appear by the front door, walking past them quietly.

"Boss, where are you going so late at night?" Tanaka asked in curiosity, but not getting a reply.

It was a rare sight for him that Marvel was wandering around the night only by himself. Worried, he decided to follow his boss, walking toward the garden in the back of the mansion.

Amid the starlight was the ever glow of the moon, a deep silver in a perfect circle. A vast grassland surrounded a serene lotus pond under the milky light, bathing the slightly damp vegetations with a gentle illumination.

"Boss, aren't you cold?" Tanaka asked Marvel as they had stopped right in front of the pond.

Marvel only appeared with a suit and it was inadequate for the current temperature. Moreover, he didn't have the jacket on him, just the vest as an outer. Tanaka wondered what made his boss rush so much he even forgot to wear more layers of clothing to go outside in the middle of the night like that. He was now on the verge to be furious by whoever was not attentive enough to let Marvel go in that state.

Although being left unanswered, without a second thought, Tanaka took his coat off and hung it on Marvel's shoulders to make him warmer, having forgotten the possibility that he might catch a cold later on.

Undisturbed by his voluntary companion, Marvel lifted his hand a bit and a revolver came into view. He pushed the release button and the cylinder moved apart from the frame of the revolver. He wanted to confirm his judgement that his revolver was holding no cartridge inside. Even just by the weight itself, he could actually tell the revolver wasn't loaded. He was just pretending it had bullets to teach someone a lesson.

"Wow. Such an elegant, antique revolver," Tanaka said, simply impressed by what he saw on Marvel's hand. "Must be expensive, but excellent to have it in your collection. When did you buy it, Boss?"

With the characteristic rhythmical noises, the crickets replied to his question instead of the man beside him and he had to accept it - not that he dared to demand a response from Marvel, anyway.

When Tanaka was still hanging with all those questions, Marvel suddenly raised his hand to the side of his head and in a solid, quick swing, he threw his revolver into the pond.

"Huh? Boss? Did you just-"

Shocked by what he just saw, Tanaka had to look around once more to confirm. He heard it clearly; the way something plunged into the water creating a quick splashing sound and all, but his eyes just reacted slower than his ears, liable to deception.

"B-boss, doesn't that thing cost a lot of money?! Why did you throw it a-"

"Shut up, Tanaka," Marvel sighed, exhausted already before he even listened to the full version of Tanaka's yell. "Do you wish to end up the same way like that?"

"N-no!" Tanaka immediately covered his mouth with his hand.

Just when Marvel was finally willing to create a sound, who would have thought he was going to say something like that?

Tanaka scratched his head, not getting the situation at all. He was thinking whether he should or not offer Marvel help to get his revolver back, but he knew Marvel wasn't someone who would regret something he had done.

"Boss, wait-"

Tanaka desperately asked, but Marvel proceeded to walk away, uninterested - not that he would stop and wait, though, especially when being asked.

It wasn't new for Tanaka to see Marvel in a bad mood. But, he felt something was missing when Marvel didn't initiate some duel or seek a reason to beat him the way he used to do every time he was bored or in a bad mood.

Be it Marvel had become a bit kinder or it was because of his health problem lately, Tanaka didn't know for sure. He felt there was something different about the way Marvel handled emotions lately.

"What are you doing?"

Tanaka jolted in surprise, almost screaming. He turned around to see who abruptly made that sound in the silence and it was Gilbert, already standing behind him with arms crossed above his chest.

"Can you at least put some noise on your footsteps?! You scared the hell out of me!" Tanaka squealed, nearly losing his soul to the burst.

Gilbert couldn't help but frown in bewilderment. He wondered what made Tanaka so focused he didn't even notice someone coming to his back.

"I saw boss," Gilbert resumed the conversation after a moment. "What's going on?"

"Boss threw an antique revolver into the pond!"

Not only that Tanaka replied in such a loud voice, but he also reenacted the way Marvel did it.

Seeing Tanaka dance like a fool, Gilbert frowned again when he hadn't yet recovered from the first frown.

"What?" Gilbert hissed in confusion.

"I saw it myself!" Tanaka expressed in desperation. "That shit must cost some hundred grand and boss just threw it away! And you know what, Gill? He looked like he was in a bad mood, but he didn't hit me!"

Now, that was a thing.

Gilbert hoped Marvel hit Tanaka because he was this close to punching the man so that his head would right a bit and he could at least say something that made more sense.

Seeing his companion's irritated face, Tanaka had a feeling he should rephrase what he said.

"I'm not saying I'd rather be hit. But, isn't it weird that he didn't hit me when he's in a bad mood and instead, throwing away something that he likes?"

Now that Tanaka had calmed down, he could finally say something Gilbert could understand.

"He fought hard in the auction against so many rich collectors, so why did he..." Tanaka didn't continue. He didn't want to make any false perception.

The sky was a steady roof with the color of wet ash, and the lotus pond was its dank reflection. A lucid moon, an uncountable star, the heavenly bodies sparkled in the dark as divine watchful eyes above the cold night.

"Gill, do you have a clue how deep is the bottom of this pond?"

"Are you crazy?!"