"Director Verint's words were somewhat unpleasant to hear."
The Blonde Youth stared at the graying man before him, his eyes narrowing slightly, carrying a deep, faintly mocking expression.
"That's right, I'm not very emotionally intelligent,"
Verint clapped his hands, resting one hand at his waist. "Most of the time, I speak human language to humans and bastard language to bastards. There are too many bastards in Aines, so I had no choice but to come to Dawn City."
"Ah, why bother?"
The Blonde Youth shook his head. "You come from one of the Federation's founding families. I didn't want to fight you either. I don't want those bastards from Aines hunting me down and getting myself covered in filth. Wouldn't it be better to drink that coffee properly and get a good night's sleep?"
"If everything could be let go by turning a blind eye,"
Verint gripped the slender sword hilt at his waist and shook his head. "Then there would be no need for the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"The purpose of the Federal Bureau of Investigation isn't to uphold justice,"
the Blonde Youth sighed. "No wonder those lapdogs of Order say Dawn City has so many rebels. So the problem started right at the top."
He shook his head and watched Verint. High in the sky behind him, one mecha after another was rapidly breaking through the Floating Fighters' newly formed defensive line.
He raised his hand, and faint, scattered starlight gathered in his palm. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"It seems your relationship with those bastards from Aines isn't very good either,"
Verint shook his head. "Makes sense. Even bastards have conflicts of interest with each other."
Buzz--
A silver, translucent Knight Sword, like pure moonlight, was drawn from Verint's waist. It seemed