Among his peers in the cell, everyone called him Smiley because of the trademark smile he always wore in public.

Truth be told, most of them called him Smiley simply because they didn’t know what his real name was.

As one of the oldest veterans in the organization, Smiley knew trouble when he saw it, and the two women who had shown up earlier today looking to ’hire help’ were definitely trouble.

They didn’t know any of the passwords, or the signals, and despite trying to look like they were acting casually, they were constantly on their guard, refusing the water he offered them or to even take a seat.

That didn’t mean Smiley didn’t have a chance to detain them. There were several, in fact.

He could have struck them from behind the moment they entered the ’orphanage’, or he could have lit up the sleep-inducing incense candle in the room he had guided them to, but from Smiley’s perspective, the risks outweighed the possible benefits.

In the line of work he was in, Smiley knew that sometimes, the best thing to do was nothing.

After showing the two women, who introduced themselves simply as Sasha and her guard Victoria, around for a bit and introducing them to a few of the more obedient older children, Smiley saw them off, even allowing the two little brats to go with them.

Letting go of two potential ’products’ was a bit painful, especially one showing as much promise as Toby, but if that could lull the other side into a false sense of security and buy him some more time, it was a price Smiley was willing to pay.

Once night had fallen, and curfew had passed, old Smiley sat together in the basement of orphanage, together with the other cell leaders, his usual friendly smile now nowhere to be seen.

"Why did you let those two go, old man?" A young woman asked.

"Are you questioning my judgement?" Smiley glared.

The young woman wasn’t intimidated though, and simple snickered, "I was just wondering if you were losing your edge."

Snorting in annoyance, old Smiley said flatly, "I let them go because they smelt like trouble, the kind of trouble we can’t just sweep away."

"You think that damn Garrison Commander is trying to probe us again?" A middle-aged man theorized.

"No," a young man, no older than 25, who also happened to be the final person in the room, answered, "If it had been another investigation from that overzealous Commander, our ’friends’ would have informed us about it beforehand."

"I agree," Smiley nodded, "those women were trying to act the part, but it was obvious they’re not familiar with how to perform investigations."

"So, were they just a couple of do-gooders, poking their nose where it doesn’t belong?" The young woman grumbled, clearly feeling disgruntled still.

"Do-gooders, yes," the young man nodded, before his face turned grim, "but simple... hardly."

"We’re being watched," old Smiley said grimly, "and not by the usual riff-raff."

"En," the middle-aged man concurred, "those women might have been amateurs, but the ones surrounding us right now are anything but."

"Do you at least have some clue as to who those bitches were?" The young woman snapped.

Smiley fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in contemplation.

It wasn’t until nearly a minute later that a look of realization appeared on his face, "Earlier today, there was some gossip among the streets that a huge fleet of ships had entered the port. Most of the ships were merchant vessels, but three of them seemed to be warships belonging to the Raging River Legion..."

When old Smiley mentioned this point, the other 3 leaders of the cell sat up straight in their chairs, their expressions all hardening with tension.

"There’s no way..." the middle-aged man began, only for the young man beside him to cut in, "Red hair... you said that woman named Sasha had fiery-red hair... just like..."

"Oh shit... shit shit shit!" The young woman cursed repeatedly, "How could we have already drawn ’her’ attention?!"

Shaking his head, Smiley snickered, "I don’t think we have. This seems more like an unlucky coincidence."

"Does that even fucking matter!?" The woman jumped up, half-screaming in rage, "Even if it was just fucked up luck that led them to us, how long before they actually start growing suspicious? How long before they start really investigating us!? What the fuck are we even supposed to do now!?"

"Calm down," Smiley waved his hand casually, a familiar grin soon creeping onto his face, "Yes, this is a setback, but it’s not a fatal one. Not yet, at least."

"We have to evacuate," the middle-aged man declared, "We need to clean up all the evidence and then find a way to escape, before the net around us closes."

"We should start by erasing the records, then burn the merchandise, then silence the... special products," the young man suggested coldly.

Although the young woman looked frustrated at the prospect of having to destroy all the work they had put into this operation with her own hands, she reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"No," old Smiley, however, disagreed, "I say we take all the records with us, as well as all the finished products, but we leave the rest behind."

"Huh?" The young woman gawked at Smiley, unable to believe what she was hearing. However, after thinking about it for a moment, a malicious smile flashed across her face, "I see. That is a better plan."

The two other men in the room also nodded, the younger one even offering some slight praise, "Thinking two steps again, letting the enemy believe they’ve caught you while redirecting their attention. I guess that’s why you were chosen as the leader."

"Hohoho," old Smiley chuckled warmly, a sharp contrast to the darkness swirling in the depths of his eyes, "It’s nothing much. We just need to set the stage properly and we’ll have them dancing in the palm of our hands."

"Good," the young woman palmed her fist eagerly, "So, how do we do this?"

"Gather the essentials first," Smiley ordered, his gaze turning ruthless, "then start spreading some oil."

.....

Roughly an hour after the sun went down over Crystal Lake, Allina, Sasha, Victoria, and Christina were all seated in the main office of the Lord’s Manor.

Across from them was Count Ross Hunt, the local Lord.

The 5 of them were engaged in a deep discussion about how best to handle the ’situation’ in the slums when the doors to the office were suddenly flung open and a mature looking woman burst in.

"I’m tired of just sitting around waiting for those bastards to stick their necks out! I say we go in full force and wipe them out!" Garrison Commander Ives all but roared as she strutted over and slammed her fist onto the desk.

Rubbing his forehead in frustration, Count Hunt had to try really hard not to scold his old friend Margaret for being unreasonable.

This wasn’t the first time Commander Ives had made such a proposal despite knowing full-well it simply wasn’t possible.

Although Crystal Lake was undoubtedly under the jurisdiction of the Lord’s Manor and local garrison, and Commander Ives had every right to impose the Kingdom’s Law on the citizens who lived there, launching a full-scale crackdown was never that simple.

The slums may look poor and abandoned on the surface, but there were many interests tied to both the wealthy merchant class and even the nobles in that seemingly destitute district.

Many of the activities that went on in the slums were... unsavory, but it was also hard to say whether many of them were outright crimes.

If the soldiers of the garrison and the city guard were to swoop in and begin arresting all the suspicious people in the slums, Count Hunt had no doubt that many people with power and influence would also be swept up in the chaos, leading to many, many problems for him.

It was for that reason that, despite knowing suspicious activities were going on in the slum, Count Hunt had refused to authorize a forceful intervention, insisting that hard evidence be brought to him first.

Commander Ives, a retired soldier who had previously served on the front-lines during the last great war, naturally hated taking such a passive approach.

In her opinion, since the criminals were lurking just beneath the surface, the best way to expose them was to dig them out.

Unfortunately, in Crystal Lake, she didn’t have the final say.

Forced to compromise, Margaret had spent the last year sending small teams into the slums, raiding suspected criminal hideouts in the hopes of obtaining the evidence she needed to convinced the hard-headed Count, yet every time she ordered such a search, her soldiers would return empty handed.

It had happened so many times that at this point, Commander Ives was beginning to suspect there were spies in her unit, possibly even among the high-ranking officers. That was the only explanation for why the criminals always seemed one step ahead of her.

Frustrations had naturally begun to bubble up, and the relationship between the Count and the Garrison Commander of Crystal Lake had deteriorated quite a bit as a result of this difference in philosophy.

And that, was when Allina Crest, First Regiment Commander and Vice-General of the Raging River Legion, Adjutant to Marquess Celestina Balfour, showed up at their doorstep.