The meeting was in the morning. By afternoon, Zaun was already moving.
Starting that same afternoon, Zaun's Sump Enforcers began sweeping through every street and alley. All of Zaun—its three districts—got turned upside down. The enforcers questioned every outsider, verified identities, and filed written records.
In a single afternoon, Zaun drove out twenty-three Noxians. Most of them claimed to be merchants.
While they were being kicked out, they kept cursing the enforcers for being unreasonable, cursing Zaun for being ungrateful. They said they were here to do business, here to help Zaun make money—so what kind of nonsense was this, throwing them out?
Did Zaun even want to survive on Valoran anymore? Did Zaun understand that all it took was one word from them after they got back, and Noxus could cut off every last trade route Zaun had?
The enforcers didn't bother responding. And if a Noxian cursed too hard, the enforcers would simply pull out their batons and swing them around as a warning.
Like hell they were going to stand there and take it.
Did these people seriously think Zaun was some warm, friendly, peaceful city-state?
If the enforcers weren't required to keep up a presentable image for outsiders, then the first time a Noxian opened their mouth, a baton would've already been introduced to their teeth.
What, did they think this was the old days?
Did they think Zaun was still the place everyone could push around?
Now? Only Zaunites got to do the cursing.
The enforcers didn't even know Logan was back, but that didn't stop them from hating Noxus. Besides, this was an order Silco issued personally—then it got passed down as an assigned task by Zaun's Chief Enforcer, Vi.
For those Zaunites who had followed Logan in the early years—who'd gone from Spirit Blossom Gang thugs to Zaun enforcers—none of them cared who they were enforcing against. Logan himself had once told them:
"If one day you catch me breaking the law, I want you to search me and hold me accountable. Don't let me off just because I'm a councilor."
So yeah—beating up a few Noxian merchants was nothing.
Back on the Bridge of Progress, they'd beaten up Noxian soldiers, too.
"Among the war refugees who entered Zaun a while ago, there were quite a few Noxians," Marsen said, standing in front of Vi inside the enforcer bureau. "Do we need to investigate them as well?"
Vi wore her uniform and sat behind her desk. She looked up and nodded. "Of course. Not just them, either. Even among the earlier waves of refugees, there had to be Noxian plants mixed in. Councilor Mel Medarda said they call people like that War Masons."
"A mason can be a spy?" Marsen found that pretty novel.
"It's just a label," Vi said. "They call them 'masons,' but they're good at everything—clever scouts, skilled engineers, brave soldiers. Mel also said that, in a way, she herself was one of the War Masons Noxus tossed into Piltover… except she ended up liking Piltover and chose to live with it instead."
As she spoke, Vi's head started to hurt.
Driving out Noxian merchants? No problem.
But driving out refugees who'd fled to Zaun because of wars started by Noxus—refugees who had joined Zaun and built lives here?
That was a lot harder.
First of all, Zaun needed people—lots of people. And for a long time, the main way Zaun's population grew was through those war refugees. If Zaun relied on Zaunites alone to keep the numbers up, it simply wouldn't happen.
Because for every baby born, more people used to die every day from one mess or another—though that wasn't the case anymore.
Now, if you killed someone in Zaun, you got a baton upside the head, hauled into custody, and after trial you ended up with a bullet in you.
Take Scar as an example. He wasn't a "true" Zaunite at all—and if you traced Logan's background back far enough, neither was Logan.
And yet now?
They all called themselves Zaunites.
Zaun could tolerate people. Zaun could accept them. Zaun had always done exactly that.
So if they started expelling refugees, it might destroy the one thought that countless displaced people across Valoran clung to:
"If things get bad, we can always run to Zaun."
That would drastically slow Zaun's future population growth.
Thinking that far ahead, Vi tapped the desk with her fingers. "Bring Caitlyn here. And while you're at it, go topside and drag Marcus down here."
Caitlyn had sharp deductive instincts. And Marcus had been an enforcer for decades—later becoming Sheriff of Piltover. He'd seen every kind of person there was, so his eye for lies was vicious.
And honestly… Vi didn't hate Marcus anymore.
She understood now: back then, Marcus really had saved her. Sure, after saving her, he tossed her into prison—but he hadn't had a choice.
Silco's influence had been enormous. Plenty of powerful topsiders were in bed with him. Down in the Undercity, he controlled everything with an iron grip. If Vi hadn't been locked away in Stillwater Hold, Silco would've found her in no time and had her dragged out to be killed.
"Damn…"
Vi cursed under her breath, feeling like life was absurd in the worst and funniest way.
She was actually working with two people she used to hate, building the Twin Cities together. And somehow, she'd slowly chosen to let it go—to forgive them.
Was I always this kind of person?
Vi almost laughed at herself.
An hour later, inside the Sump Enforcer Bureau, in a small room lit by a dull yellow lamp, a line of Zaunites sat with their hands on their knees while Caitlyn questioned them.
Marcus and Vi watched through a one-way mirror. And perched on Vi's head was a beautiful little blue bird.
Vi had specifically invited her.
Lady Janna… who could see through a person's heart.
With her here, catching spies would be a lot easier.
In the interrogation room, Caitlyn glanced down at the papers in her hands and asked, calm and firm, "You entered Zaun in the year 984, correct? But Shali—if I remember right, that was the same year Noxus invaded Ionia."
"Yes," Shali replied. He was a Zaunite who ran a stall at the Entresol. "That war reached us. I brought my family as refugees to Zaun."
"Family?" Caitlyn's brows tightened. "But you've always been alone."
"My child died on the road," Shali said. "Starved to death." Pain flickered in his eyes—then vanished.
"I'm sorry to make you remember that," Caitlyn said, her tone briefly softening before she straightened again. "But I still have questions. You said you fled as a refugee—so where did you live before?"
Zaun hadn't done population registration back then. Anyone could enter Zaun and settle down. So the documents Caitlyn held didn't contain much—just names, ages, and what they did for a living.
"A seaside town northwest of Piltover," Shali answered. "Vindor."
Caitlyn lifted her brows. "So you were Noxian."
Shali froze, then nodded. "Yes."
He looked at Caitlyn in surprise, clearly not expecting her to pinpoint it so fast.
"I used to be a fisherman in Vindor. I fed my family by fishing offshore. But there was an uprising in the port city of Basilich. The imperial troops put it down, and soldiers who fled afterward ran into Vindor. I didn't want to enlist. I didn't want glory. I just wanted to protect my family—nothing more. So I took them and ran…"
Shali suddenly grabbed his own hair, voice cracking with grief. "But on the road, bandits killed my wife. I only managed to flee with my young daughter to Zaun… and on the way here, she died too."
Caitlyn nodded. "Take a moment. Catch your breath. I might have more questions later."
"Okay."
"He's not lying," Marcus said, eyes never leaving Shali's face. He'd been watching every micro-expression and every tiny movement. "That's real."
As Piltover's former Sheriff, Marcus had seen countless refugees and desperate poor people try to enter Piltover and settle. And without exception, he'd driven them out.
Piltover didn't take refugees. To put it bluntly—back then, Piltover already had enough headaches just dealing with Zaun. Refugees? Zaunites trying to enter Piltover were basically refugees, too.
Piltover wasn't big enough to hold that many people.
Vi, on the other hand, was confused. "That's it? That tells you whether they're spies or not?"
She frowned. "Shouldn't interrogation involve… violence? Beat them up, make them scared—something like that?"
"First," Marcus said flatly, "they're Zaunites. If you start using violence for no reason, the Sump Enforcer Bureau loses credibility in Zaun. Your job is to protect them, not bully them. Right?"
Vi blinked, then nodded.
Right. They were only suspects—not confirmed spies. If she wronged innocent people…
Vi shivered. She could already picture Logan coming down on her. She'd end up hiding behind Jinx and begging for mercy. No. That couldn't happen.
"Second," Marcus continued, "anyone sent to spy in an enemy nation—especially Noxus War Masons—has already made peace with dying. Threats and beatings won't break them. You have to make them reveal a flaw themselves. Caitlyn is good at this. Trust her."
From atop Vi's head, Janna spoke softly. "That man, Shali… didn't lie. When he spoke about Vindor, his wife, his child—his soul hurt. He was grieving."
"Fine," Vi said, nodding. "I'll leave it to you. I'll learn, too."
Soon the investigation ended. The Zaunites who'd been singled out for attention were all released.
Vi, Marcus, Caitlyn, and Janna returned to Vi's office.
Caitlyn casually lifted one leg and sat on the desk, then said, "As far as I can tell, none of them are spies. I asked each person their origin and why they came to Zaun. Then I went through again, asking each of them different questions one-on-one.
"Then I said I'd forgotten what they told me the first time—and I made them repeat their origins and reasons again.
"On the third pass, I watched their expressions closely and compared their answers to the first pass. I can guarantee it: their answers didn't drift. Not even a little."
Caitlyn explained it to Vi. "The reason I questioned them together, instead of isolating them, was to interrupt their thinking. When I'm harshly interrogating someone else, the person I already questioned relaxes. They listen to what other people say.
"If they were lying—building fake stories—then in the final pass, when I pressed for details and deliberately guided them, they should've slipped. But they didn't."
In the last round, Caitlyn even mixed up the order—she didn't start with Shali anymore. She picked people at random. Sudden questions, intentional guidance… and still, nobody contradicted themselves.
Which meant those experiences weren't invented. They really happened. They were burned into memory.
Of course, it was possible they'd prepared in advance, memorized a script—maybe even used magic.
But Janna was here. And if Janna said it was fine, then Caitlyn believed the rest of those possibilities didn't apply.
"Seriously?" Vi stared at her. "You were just asking questions. You did all that in there?"
What a joke.
In that little bit of time, Cupcake had pulled off all that?
Marcus sighed quietly to the side.
Zaun's enforcers were strong—stronger than Piltover's by now. But investigations and interrogations…
Forget it. The bureau had only existed for a year. You couldn't ask for everything.
"I think," Caitlyn said after a moment, "it's because Zaun used to have a decent relationship with Noxus. And Zaun used to be chaotic, with people dying every day. Plus, Zaun was poor. So Noxus probably didn't think it was worth sending War Masons into Zaun."
"But Piltover is different," Caitlyn continued. "There will be War Masons here. So, Vi—I'd like Lady Janna to come with me, and I'll need you to get an authorization document from Councilor Silco. I want to investigate topside."
Vi nodded. "Alright. I'll go with you."
"You're coming with me?" Caitlyn hesitated. "Uh… you don't really have to. Lady Janna coming is enough."
Vi froze, eyes narrowing. "I really don't have to go?"
Caitlyn's work-brain shut down. Another brain kicked in. She nodded frantically. "No—no—of course you have to come. Sorry. I misspoke."
"Hmph." Vi snorted. "You'd better have misspoken, and not meant it."
Half an hour later, Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Vi's waist and rode a hoverboard up to Piltover.
Marcus said a few words to Piltover's new Sheriff—his former student—while Vi took Caitlyn to meet Mel and explain that they intended to investigate the powerful families.
Mel agreed. And Caitlyn's mother, Councilor Cassandra Kiramman, also fully supported it.
Soon, under the names of Mel Medarda, House Kiramman, and Jayce Talis, the noble families of Piltover received investigation orders.
Caitlyn led people door to door, visiting them one by one.
"Mister Mickey Ketra," Caitlyn said, "I'm here because you entered Piltover in 984 and started in the wool textile trade—then built it up bit by bit until you became the largest in the city. Like Mel, you were once Noxian."
Caitlyn immediately added, "I'm not accusing you. I'm stating a fact."
"It's fine. I understand." Mickey nodded calmly. "I was Noxian. But Noxus… you know how it is. Too domineering. Merchants like us in Noxus are nothing but walking vaults.
"To survive, I had no choice but to leave. I came from Basilich to Piltover and sold off everything I had. After that, I came back several times. Honestly? Doing business with Piltovans is genuinely pleasant. Little by little, I realized I liked it here.
"I've been many places—Shurima, the Freljord—but those places are poor. Not like Piltover."
Mickey smiled at Caitlyn.
Caitlyn nodded, then continued, "As I understand it, most of the wool and textiles in your stock are sourced from Shurima. But hasn't Shurima been at war with Noxus for years? Many coastal cities were occupied by Noxus, and the period was chaotic. How did you manage to buy so much wool?"
"Little Kiramman," Mickey laughed, "you might be an excellent enforcer, but you're definitely not an excellent merchant."
He went on, "For traders like us, you often have to go to dangerous, chaotic places to get rich. War profits are far more lucrative than you think.
"Because there was war in Shurima, locals couldn't even eat. Wool and textiles—valuable in other places—became dead weight there. If they can't afford food, what good is fine clothing or a pretty rug? So I only needed cheap grain to buy those goods—then I sold them elsewhere."
"That's how my family rose," Mickey said.
"I understand," Caitlyn replied.
Then she asked him a long string of questions.
Mickey stayed patient and composed, answering each one.
The questioning lasted half an hour. Finally, Caitlyn looked toward Janna on Vi's head. Janna gave a small nod.
Caitlyn stood. "Thank you for cooperating. Sorry for taking up your time."
"It's no trouble," Mickey said with a smile. "I like talking with young people."
As Caitlyn moved toward the door, Mickey added, "Little Kiramman—let me teach you a piece of wisdom. I learned it back when I was still a fisherman."
"The rougher the waves, the higher the price of fish."
Caitlyn was already at the entrance, but she stopped dead. Then she turned sharply, narrowed her eyes, and stared at Mickey.
"Fisherman? Oh!"
"I just remembered something," Caitlyn said, clapping her hands as if struck by inspiration. "Now I know why you were the first person I came to see—because I just heard your name."
Vi, standing nearby, was utterly lost. She looked at Caitlyn like, When did we ever hear that name?
She was about to speak—then Marcus pressed a fist lightly into her lower back.
Vi froze and shut her mouth.
"I was investigating in Zaun just now," Caitlyn said brightly. "There was a Noxian who entered Zaun in 984, just like you. He used to be a fisherman too. When the war broke out, he came to Zaun alone—but he never forgot a man named Mickey. He said that man was his brother. That Mickey helped him a lot."
Caitlyn continued, smiling wider and wider, "He said that since I'm investigating, could I do him a favor? Could I help him find his brother? And you also left Noxus in 984 and came to Piltover.
"And my mother once said your family name was only added after you made money. You didn't have a surname before—right? So, Mister Mickey… do you think the person he's looking for might be you?"
"It's possible," Mickey said thoughtfully. "But I helped too many people back when I fished. Just from that, I can't know who he is. Maybe he isn't even looking for me."
"That's fine," Caitlyn said, stepping closer. With her short-heeled boots, she was actually a little taller than the Noxian man. "I think he is looking for you. His name is Vincent. He used to fish in the harbor at Basilich. See? Same as you—both from Basilich. In 984, war broke out and Basilich had an uprising, so Vincent left Basilich to avoid the chaos."
Mickey stroked his chin, thinking—then his head snapped up, face lighting with joy.
"Ah! It's him!"
Behind Caitlyn, even Vi—no matter how slow she could be sometimes—finally understood what Caitlyn was doing.
Damn, Cupcake. You're good.
You could talk the dead into being alive.
And it worked.
"You really know him?" Caitlyn asked.
"Of course." Mickey smiled. "You don't need to worry about this. I'll go down there and talk to him—no, I'll go today."
He reached out and patted Caitlyn's shoulder, still smiling. "I never expected an investigation would reunite me with an old friend I've been separated from for so many years."
"What a wonderful thing." Mickey's smile was sincere. "Caitlyn, you did me a great favor."
But Caitlyn simply clapped her hands lightly—and smiled too.
A cold smile.
She lifted her hand and said softly, "Vi. Arrest him."
"Damn, Cupcake—seriously. I learned something today."
A blur shot past Caitlyn. In an instant, Vi slammed Mickey Ketra to the floor.
Pinning him down, Vi raised her fist and punched him hard in the back of the head when he tried to struggle.
Vi's strength was no joke.
Zaun's Queen of the Fists wasn't a nickname you got by accident.
One punch. Mickey let out a muffled groan and went limp, knocked unconscious.
Caitlyn looked at Marcus, expression hard. "I don't think it's just him. Piltover has a lot of War Masons. Councilor Mel was right—Piltover let a lot of bugs crawl in without realizing it."
"I understand," Marcus said, nodding. "Don't worry. No one will know I took him."
"Vi," Caitlyn said, turning with one hand on her hip, the hair beneath her high cap swaying as she moved—she looked so sharp and heroic she hardly seemed like the same person. "Next house."
Watching her like that, Vi swallowed, then grinned.
"Alright. I'm with you. Whatever you say."
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