Diego was on the verge of tearing someone to shreds.

  “No trace?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  The subordinate across from him must’ve had his life flash before his eyes. But it mattered not.

  Not when the threat facing them was existential.

  “Your Eminence,” the Inquisitor began. “Our Divination pointed to nothing.”

  Again?

  “Did you get any glimpses, at least?” Diego asked, practically bargaining. “Sounds, smells, scenes, anything at all?”

  “Nothing.”

  Such a phenomenon would’ve warranted mass hysteria. But they knew better.

  They were the Apostolic See, after all. If a predicament arose, they solved it.

  Besides. It’s not without precedent.

  Not long ago, a few of their ships vanished under the exact same circumstances, with not even their Venerables being able to conclude what happened.

  “What of the essence of the deceased?” Diego asked, hoping for good news.

  “It has been successfully retrieved, and it’s fully functional.”

  It better be.

  Whoever the assailant was, they cost them a Deacon and a Reverend. Such Depths were still ubiquitous enough in the right place, but they didn’t exactly grow on trees.

  Still, who on earth could singlehandedly slaughter both?

  The subtext nearly made Diego shiver, but he kept it to himself.

  If the problem were that serious, Saint Morgan LeFay would solve it.

  After all, she always did.

  “Very well,” Diego replied, signaling to the Inquisitor to get lost. “Just update me when the need arises.”

  The subordinate nodded in haste before going on his way.

  The moment the door closed, Diego sank into his chair, letting the weight of the reports press down on him.

  Whilst violence in Havana was no anomaly, the number of incidents in recent weeks was obscene.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  And it all pointed to one person: Stacey.

  Still, the lass was a useful idiot, and so he let it go.

  Her methods of consolidating power might have been extreme, but the people at the end of the musket were thugs, and so tears he did not shed.

  Additionally, the way she ran her businesses was akin to authentic institutions rather than lowlifes with guns, making her a worthy business partner, assuming the need arose.

  Oh, Saint LeFay, if only you assigned me a less problematic city.

  Diego pushed the cynicism aside and attempted to focus on the parchments marinating on his desk. The reports were delivered hours ago, but he simply wasn’t in the right state of mind for them.

  Then again, judging by recent events, he would not be in the right state of mind for a long while.

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  With Stacey compromising the city’s gang structure, the four gangs have become five.

  The Sorrows rule the east, The Disciples rule the west, while the north and south are split haphazardly among 12th Street and The Heretics.

  The names were as ridiculous as they came, but Diego kept the secondhand embarrassment to himself.

  Stacey’s gang, in turn, neither bears flair nor territory. The organization simply bears her name, while her influence stretches across the four territories.

  Naturally, the leaders of the other four gangs aren’t thrilled about such a development. But they are also stretched thin, as Stacey keeps annexing one gang after the other.

  “Annexing gangs? That’s a new one.”

  Taking over a rival’s manpower was the oldest trick in the book, but that only happened after a crushing defeat.

  Using it as an attrition tactic, however? That was nothing short of brilliant.

  Perhaps the lass is worth paying attention to after all.

  With curiosity piqued, Diego continued reading.

  Some limited evidence suggests her involvement in the assassination of two Inquisitors, but the theory lacks a clear motive, as such an action clearly contradicts her ambitions.

  Nevertheless, she could prove a useful asset, if given proper incentives.

  The mention of the assassination instinctively made Diego wonder about her Depth. The woman being a Saint was far too unlikely, as she wouldn’t waste her time scavenging for scraps if that were the case. Being a Venerable was equally as unlikely, as she would’ve weaponized it more.

  And so that left one option: Reverend.

  Or a very crafty Venerable. But that’s a mere hypothesis.

  As for her personality, she appears to have a soft spot for the underprivileged. Even going as far as spending her resources on them. And while that is admirable, it could be exploited.

  Diego couldn’t help but smile at the last line. Whoever this Stacey was, she was a gift from the gods.

  The meticulousness, subtlety, and philanthropy all pointed toward an asset the Apostolic See could put into use perfectly.

  At least until it’s time to neutralize her.

  Diego then moved on to a second document and was greeted by a report equally as perplexing.

  It appears that not long ago, 12th Street acquired the services of a rather dangerous individual.

  Dangerous could’ve meant anything, and so Diego continued reading.

  In addition to Ignition and Enthral, they also possess superhuman endurance and an artifact capable of cutting enemies in half.

  Must be Ruin. It’s the only Shanty with such properties.

  The powers mentioned were at the level of a Deacon at best, sparing the Saint the trouble of thinking about it for too long.

  But why now of all times? Was someone attempting a quiet takeover of Havana? Such a notion was extraordinary, so Diego had to gather evidence first.

  And that, he did perfectly, as Havana’s intelligence was under his thumb.