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((Triple Monday -- Page 2 of 3))
It was too dark to tell much about the newcomer with just his eyes alone, but Hector was near enough for the Scarf to help him discern some of the details.

Short. Long hair. Long skirt. Slim, feminine figure. And he could sense the shape of her high heels, as well as hear them clicking against the sidewalk’s pavement.

Hmm. Hector focused harder and checked inside the purse she was carrying.

Wow, it was full of stuff. And not knowing much about the kinds of things that women carried in their purses, Hector found it a bit difficult to pick out any object in particular, except maybe--

Was that a gun?

He couldn’t be sure, but that shape definitely seemed like it could be the barrel of a small pistol. And considering that it was illegal for average citizens to carry firearms in Atreya, that didn’t bode especially well.

He’d have to pay close attention. In a place like this, at this time of night, there was a fair chance she was just carrying it for her own protection, even if it was unlawful. Hector wasn’t about to judge someone who didn’t have the luxury of superpowers on their side for prioritizing their own safety over following the law.

Or hell, maybe she wasn’t an average citizen. She could’ve been an undercover cop or something.

Sticking to the rooftops, Hector tried to stay close to her as she approached the man at the other end of the street. If nothing else, he wanted to stay in range of the Scarf so that he could react in time in case she went for that weapon.

Judging from the man’s body language, he had been expecting her.

‘Seems like they’re going to talk,’ said Garovel privately. ‘I’ll go eavesdrop. Make sure they don’t kill me, eh?’

Hector clenched his jaw, wanting to tell the reaper not to, but he held his tongue. In all likelihood, neither of them were servants, and he was paying extra close attention to where their heads were pointing. If either of them turned to look at Garovel, Hector would know it immediately.

Hector waited and observed, ready to move on a moment’s notice. The man and woman met below a street lamp and exchanged a few words. Pleasantries, according to Garovel. Neither one seemed to notice the reaper’s presence a couple meters away from them.

That was good, of course, but Hector did not allow himself to relax.

Whatever they were talking about, it didn’t take very long. The woman handed the man a piece of paper and a small bag, and then walked away, in the opposite direction that she had come from.

‘...What was that about?’ he had to ask.

‘Dunno,’ said Garovel. ‘They didn’t say much. Guess they didn’t need to.’

The man was still there, reading the paper that he had been given. Garovel hovered up behind him, no doubt trying to read it as well.

‘It’s some kind of report,’ the reaper said. ‘Financial in nature, looks like.’