At the end of the gallery stood two men with their backs turned, looking up in appreciation at a large oil painting.
The painting depicted a brown-haired young man in military uniform turning to leave from a corner of the battlefield, in stark contrast to his many comrades charging into battle.
In one corner of the painting was its title, "Deserter," and the artist's name, Beckman.
"Your assistant died, and this is how you commemorate him?"
The man in the black suit asked.
"Roderick, although I regret it too, this is the greatest respect I can show him."
The man in the white suit chuckled.
"This was the important moment when Vigrey went from a boy to a man. I believe he would like it."
Roderick studied the gallery owner. There was no sadness on his face.
Cold-blooded?
That made sense.
If Beckman weren't cold-blooded, I wouldn't have partnered with him.
"I once gave him a painting of my own to help him, but he died in the end anyway... Of course, I saw the killer through that painting's eyes."
Beckman said.
"The killer should be in the society you organize right now."
"Oh? I think I know who it is..."
Roderick said after a moment's thought.
"When the purge begins, I'll keep an extra eye out for him for you. Consider it revenge for your assistant.
"In exchange, I need you to help subdue Molimer, the president of the History and Ritual Society's Amber City branch."
Beckman smiled and shook his head.
"A low-Sequence ant hardly qualifies as my enemy, nor is he worth my helping you."
Roderick frowned slightly.
"Don't forget that I'll also help you capture Feiri, the Sun Church's traitor. Isn't he very useful to you?
"Although I'm a special commissioner of the Containment Bureau, I