A plan?

As a week passed from the previous meeting with Fran, and Donadrond. The soft whisper of paper against paper echoed in Klimts room as documents shifted and fluttered, strewn across a desk bathed in the warm glow of dawn thru the windows. Klimt slumped in his chair, his appearance haggard - unkempt hair, eyes rimmed red, weariness etched into every line of his face. The aftermath of the slave ring bloodbath weighed heavily upon him. Yet, amid the chaos, a few suspects had emerged, chief among them Momonga, a C-Rank adventurer deliberately assigned Demon Garden quests - both extermination and collection - to gauge his capabilities, along with his partner Claire.

Of course, these theories remained unconfirmed until Klimt could personally encounter this adventurer. However, recalling Donadrond's description of the overwhelming sense of doom and mortality, Klimt felt a deep-seated reluctance to face this individual. Nonetheless, he steeled himself - duty, after all, must prevail over personal trepidation.

Klimt sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His attempts to gather more information on Momonga and Claire had hit an unexpected snag. Whenever his spirits approached the pair, they recoiled, as if terrified by an ominous darkness that enveloped them. Only when Claire was by herself could Klimt's spirits penetrate her defenses. This peculiarity led him to two possible conclusions: either Momonga possessed some form of anti-scrying protection, or his power was so immense that even the spirits dared not approach him.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

In addition to those two assumptions, there was also the factor of Momonga's reportedly exceptional gear. Donadrond had described it as "equipment meant for an A or even S-rank adventurer, crafted by master artisans." This description nagged at Klimt, planting a question in the back of his mind: Could Momonga be an adventurer from a distant nation? If so, why hadn't Klimt heard of him before?

After all, there weren't many explanations for such extravagant equipment. The most likely possibilities narrowed down to two: either Momonga was a high-ranked adventurer with an impressive track record, or he was a noble from a distant land. Both scenarios could account for his exceptional gear, but each raised its own set of questions.

If Momonga was indeed a renowned adventurer, his fame should have preceded him. Word of such skillful and well-equipped individuals typically spreads quickly around the world. On the other hand, if he was a foreign noble, that might explain both his impressive attire and the lack of prior information about him, but Klimt would think that he'd have some sort of escort unless he was tasked with specific motives. But, that doesn't answer the question on why Momonga got involved in the slave-ring murdering the entire lot of them.

Klimt returned his hands to the desk, picking up one of the reports detailing the slave-ring massacre. Despite Momonga's brutal efficiency in slaughtering the slavers, Klimt couldn't help but consider that his actions might have stemmed from good intentions. After all, eliminating those who traded in people's lives wasn't something Klimt would condemn.

However, what troubled him was Momonga's status as an unknown, powerful entity seemingly beyond the reach of Alessa's law. This lack of control and accountability made Klimt uneasy.

He reflected on the last time he had made exceptions to the rules. It had been for the adventurer Fran, a track of decisions that still left him with lingering suspicions about her. But even those allowances paled in comparison to what was being about to be granted to Momonga. Unlike Fran, who hadn't committed any acts of violence within city grounds, Momonga's actions were far more extreme and public.

Klimt grimaced, recalling how his leniency towards Fran had sparked rumors about him – rumors that had taken effort to quell. Now being confronted with Momonga he wondered if new rumors would become more outrageous.

Knock Knock, A knock at the door interrupted Klimt's thoughts. He looked up from his desk and called out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, revealing a petite but well-built cat-girl with black hair and matching fluffy ears. Her tail swayed gently as she entered, the enormous sword on her back still a source of curiosity for Klimt - he couldn't imagine how she managed to wield it being so small. This was Fran, the adventurer for whom he had made exceptions during her stay in Alessa.

Donadrond followed close behind. Both had arrived at Klimt's request for a follow-up meeting after their previous discussion about the slave-ring massacre. This time, however, Klimt had the beginnings of a plan forming in his mind. After all, a confrontation with Momonga and his elven companion, Claire, seemed increasingly necessary.

"I'm glad you both could make it," Klimt began, sliding two papers across his desk - one to Fran and another to Donadrond. "I've gathered more information on Momonga from his mission statements." He paused, knowing that the data wouldn't shock either of them, given what they already knew from the slave-ring massacre report.

"As you'll see," Klimt continued, his tone grave, "the situation with Momonga is more complex than we initially thought. I believe it's time we take more... proactive approach but without angering him given his strength."​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Donadrond looked up from the paper, his expression grave. "If we do confront him, we should avoid doing so inside the Adventurers' Guild or the city. We need to minimize potential damage."

A soft "Mm-hm" came from Fran as she nodded in agreement. Klimt, noticing their consensus, inclined his head. "I couldn't agree more," he said. "The public is already worried we have a loose murderer on our hands, though others hail him as a savior for eliminating the slave rings."

Klimt leaned forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "I'll create a bogus request for Momonga and Claire, luring them to a location of our choosing." He produced a map, pointing to an area in the Demon's Garden. "This spot is usually less infested with monsters. It should be ideal for our confrontation."

His finger tapped the map emphatically. "We'll do it here. But I want you all to be fully prepared, understood? Bring extra provisions and anything else that might give us an edge."

Both Fran and Donadrond acknowledged with firm nods.

Klimt leaned back, a hint of satisfaction in his voice at how smoothly the meeting had progressed. "Well then," he said, his tone carrying a mix of determination and worry, "let our plan begin!"