The next morning, Cipher sat in his office, flipping through historical books while brainstorming ideas for his own.
Promoting the ideology of reform wasn't about shouting slogans—it required evidence, presenting facts, and reasoning that people could understand and process clearly.
Each page he turned held another piece of the puzzle.
He planned to start his writing by recounting the origins of Zaun, the predecessor of the both cities, analyzing from a historical perspective as an observer.
Why had the city split into Piltover and Zaun?
How had both cities, once interdependent and united, fallen into a state of irreconcilable conflict?
What were the fundamental contradictions of the cities?
And from the perspective of either Zaun or Piltover, how might they solve these problems?
These were the topics Cipher wanted to address in his book.
He aimed to expose the public to the concepts of exploitative aristocrats and the bloody, brutal process of primitive capital accumulation. Only by identifying the true enemy could people unite their strength, clench their fists, strike with force, and bring down the aristocracy with a single powerful blow.
The truth was usually ugly, but it needed to be seen.
Cipher didn't know much about the history of Zaun and Piltover.
All he knew was that the current divide stemmed from an accident. During the construction of the Sun Gates, a mishap caused part of the city to sink underground. At that time, it was Janna, the guardian spirit of the city, who saved the affected population.
The city split into two cities because of this event. The sunken districts became Zaun, while the elevated areas became Piltover.
Beyond this, his knowledge was limited. He closed another book, adding it to the growing pile of disappointing sources.
To understand the detailed history, especially how Piltover accumulated its wealth, he needed to dig into more resources. He suspected, however, that the history of Piltover's rise would be neither pleasant nor clean—its primitive capital accumulation was likely to be brutal and bloody, drenched in the blood of countless innocent victims.
Knock, knock!
A knock came at the office door, breaking his concentration.
"Come in."
Cipher paused his reading, marking his place with a scrap of paper.
It was Vander, who opened the door and entered.
This was their first private, face-to-face meeting since Cipher seized power.
"Is there something you need, Dad?" he asked, noting the serious look on his face.
With Vander's personality, he wouldn't come to the office unless there was something important to discuss.
"The upper city has taken notice of us," Vander said, his voice gruff. "This is an invitation from Lester's adjutant. Councilor Medarda has invited us to a banquet."
Vander handed Cipher an invitation card decorated in black and red, embossed with the gilded crest of the House Medarda. The paper was thick and expensive, the kind that never made its way down to Zaun except as trash.
This card indicated that Mel was issuing the invitation as a member of Noxus' House Medarda.
The implications were worth pondering—she had always been dismissive of Noxus' iron-blooded conquest philosophy. Suddenly, inviting them under her Noxian identity likely had something to do with Lester.
"Us? You're saying she invited us?"
Mel hadn't just invited him—she had invited other members of their close-knit family from The Last Drop as well.
This was bad news. It meant that Mel had taken notice of the subtle movements within his group. On a deeper level, it suggested that Piltover had taken notice of Zaun's rise.
"That's right. Besides you, the richest councilor from the Upper City has also invited me, Silco, and Sevika."
"She invited almost everyone from The Last Drop. This councilor sure has her eyes on us."
Vander shrugged and pulled out a similar invitation from his pocket.
Even with his straightforward nature, he could sense that something was amiss. His brow furrowed as he considered the situation.
When had Piltover's aristocrats ever paid so much attention to the gutter rats of Zaun?
"It's a problem, but it shouldn't be too serious. With Lester representing Noxus here, Piltover wouldn't dare act recklessly."
Cipher pondered for a moment and concluded that Mel's actions were likely meant as a warning. Using her Noxian crest instead of her council seal... She's sending several messages.
Zaun's current backing came from Swain, and Mel herself could represent the House Medarda.
Regardless of which faction in Noxus it was, they were a force that both Piltover and Zaun had to tread carefully around.
Yet Mel's decision to send the invitation via Lester was perplexing. Normally, she would have sent someone directly to deliver the invitation to The Last Drop.
Cipher could only interpret this as a subtle message: Zaun did not yet have the standing to sit as an equal with Piltover, or Zaun couldn't afford to provoke Piltover.
But this didn't align with Mel's usual demeanor.
He couldn't figure it out and decided to let it go—politics wasn't his strong suit anyway.
"Are we going or not?" Vander asked, bringing the discussion back to the practical matter at hand.
At present, decisions for Zaun's leadership were all made by Cipher, which was precisely why Vander brought the invitation straight to him as soon as he received it.
"We're going, of course. Let's attend Piltover's aristocratic banquet and broaden our horizons," Cipher said with a smirk.
Mel had gone out of her way to send this invitation, clearly wanting to discuss something important with Zaun's leadership group. Not attending would be tantamount to disrespecting her, and she was still a shareholder in Zaun's industrial ventures.
"We should at least look the part," Vander said, already planning to visit the tailor to get some decent suits for the group. "I'll go prepare some formal attire."
"No need. Zaun doesn't follow Piltover's pretentious formalities. What we usually wear is fine," Cipher said, stopping him in his tracks.
Zaun, on the cusp of transformation, didn't need to conform to Piltover's shallow formalism.
"This? Just our regular outfits?" Vander hesitated. If he were going to represent only himself, it wouldn't matter. But at this banquet, they would clearly be representing Zaun as a whole. Wearing such casual attire… the Piltovan elites would undoubtedly sneer at them behind their backs.
"Dad, don't let Piltover's ideology influence you. Zaun has its own pursuits. There's no need to imitate them—we're not like them," Cipher said, shaking his head.
Appearance didn't matter. No matter how well they dressed, it wouldn't stop Piltovans from looking down on them.
Respect wouldn't come from clothes; it would come from strength.
Once Zaun rose to power, even if they showed up in rags, it would be seen as fashionable and tasteful.
"Alright, I'll listen to you," Vander nodded.
If Cipher didn't feel embarrassed, neither would he.
"One more thing. Are you really planning to keep Vi in the police department?"
"She's still too young," Vander said with a trace of worry on his face. "Her body hasn't developed fully. If she wants to beat Sevika, I'd say it'll take another five or six years."
Vi wasn't a docile girl. Suppressing her ambitions for too long might backfire. If she acted impulsively one day and came up with some crazy scheme, she might end up causing a massive disaster.
Vander thought it would be better to keep her by his side instead. That way, she could indulge her little fantasy of being an enforcer without putting herself in too much danger.
"Shh!"
Cipher raised a finger to his lips, signaling Vander to look toward the door. Their eyes met, a whole conversation passing without words. They had an audience, and now they had to perform.
There was no need to guess—it was Vi eavesdropping.
Powder, Mylo, and Claggor had gone off early in the morning for their lessons, leaving Vi behind.
Cipher exchanged a glance with Vander, and the two of them tacitly began a performance, one playing the stern role, the other the sympathetic one.
"Vi still needs more training. She needs to work on curbing her impatience. When she learns patience, then she'll be ready to become a proper enforcer," Cipher said, projecting his voice as he took on the stern role.
"I don't think that's necessary. She is capable. If I'm with her, she can handle the job of an enforcer," Vander said, supporting Vi as he played the sympathetic role.
"She's not ready!" Cipher's voice rose sharply. "She still needs training. Being an enforcer means facing ruthless criminals and chemically enhanced mercenaries."
"I'm telling you, she is ready!" Vander shot back, matching Cipher's intensity.
"And what if she gets injured, or worse, killed? Who would be able to bear that loss? You? Me? Powder? She's my sister. I'm responsible for her safety!"
"She's my daughter! I'm saying she's ready! If anyone wants to hurt her, they'll have to get through me first!"
The two men were practically shouting now, with Vander's spittle flying dangerously close to Cipher's face.
They both understood that Vi was impulsive and needed a mature, steady figure to accompany her at all times. But her restless nature wouldn't let her simply sit back and follow orders.
The only way to keep her in check was to put on a dramatic show. It was a bit of emotional manipulation, but not too much.
Crash!
A loud noise came from outside the door.
When Cipher opened it, there was no one in sight.
Looking closely, though, he found a few strands of pink hair on the floor.
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Update will be irregular, but at least there will be updates.
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