Sifa understood what Oswald was implying, of course.
It seemed that he and the old man were only temporary additions today. They had no authority over the operation, but could act as circumstances required.
Although Oswald was a sly old fox, Sifa had to admit that he looked after him quite well.
Of course, that was on the condition that Sifa was capable and worth investing in.
They boarded the airship.
The airship's layout was much like that of Loen's official airships. With Oswald leading the way, Sifa headed for the lounge on the lower deck.
In the corridor outside the lounge stood guards holding rifles. They were the association's mercenaries, and each carried a faint, barely perceptible aura of bloodshed.
When they reached the designated lounge, Sifa stepped inside and saw several men talking.
At their head was a middle-aged gentleman.
He had dark brown hair, green eyes, and a neatly groomed mustache.
He wore a half-height top hat and formal tails. On his right ring finger was a gold ring bearing the association's emblem.
The other men each had their own distinctive appearance.
One was a man in his thirties, wearing a black half-height top hat and a long coat of the same color. When he looked at Sifa, there was no warmth in his pale blue eyes, only a trace of hostility.
He had rugged features, blue-black stubble around his chin, and an exceptionally powerful build.
By the look of him, he was probably an operations supervisor.
"Allow me to introduce everyone."
Oswald said amiably, "This is Commissioner Mike Herbert. Commissioner Mike is a historian and a university professor, and comes from a distinguished family."
The old fox looked toward the middle-aged gentleman.
Then he turned to the rugged man with a broad smile. "This is Mr.