Arcane: TTB: Ch. 151

"Give me the assassination list and target details."

In a nondescript Piltover inn room, Katarina sat by the window, dressed in plain clothes with her hair tucked under a worker's cap.

Back in her safehouse, Emystan had been drinking when the call came through. The moment she recognized Katarina's voice, her expression soured. As a high-ranking Noxian noble herself, she knew all too well about the Du Couteau family's internal dynamics.

Du Couteau commanded the Assassin's Guild. He was its strongest member, a legend in Noxus. Second was his adopted son, Talon, the Blade's Shadow, nearly as deadly as his father. And then there was Katarina, who should have been groomed as the family heir but had instead become its greatest embarrassment.

Her first assassination mission had been a complete disaster. She'd become a laughingstock among Noxian aristocracy, bringing shame to the Du Couteau name. The details were well-known in noble circles: overconfidence, poor planning, mission failure, near-death escape.

Emystan had paid an enormous price to secure the House Du Couteau's cooperation. And this was who they sent?

"Why is it you?"

"Because I'm strong enough," she replied flatly. "That's all that matters."

"Don't make me laugh." Emystan set down her glass hard enough that wine sloshed over the rim. "Everyone in Noxus knows you botched your first mission. Why should I trust someone with your record?"

"The list," Katarina said, completely ignoring her question. She pulled out a dagger and began cleaning her nails with the blade, her eyes fixed on the distant Piltover Council Hall through the window. "I don't have time for your complaints. Give me the targets, or I'll proceed according to my own assessment."

Emystan's chest tightened with rage. This was a matter of life and death, and this failure of an assassin was dismissing her?

"What does General Du Couteau mean by this?" she demanded. "I understand that someone of his status can't personally come here. But why send you instead of Talon? And you're here alone?"

"Why? Because I can do the job."

One day soon, she would complete a mission so difficult that every mocking voice in Noxus would shut their mouth.

"Enough. Give me the assassination list now, or I execute my own plan. Your choice."

Emystan pressed her fingers against her temples, forcing down her fury. Arguing was pointless. She needed an assassin, even an incompetent one, more than she needed to vent her frustration.

"The intelligence from Camille can't be fully trusted. She'll provide you with the target list and updated information. Meet her at the café in Bluewind Court in one hour."

"Fine." Katarina ended the call, changed into different clothes, and left for the café.

---

Camille arrived at the appointed location disguised as a fully armored enforcer. Heavy plate covered her augmentations, and a gas mask concealed her face. She scanned the café interior but saw no sign of Katarina.

"Good evening, officer," a waiter approached politely. "What can I get you?"

"Black coffee. Strong." The voice that emerged from behind the gas mask was gravelly and masculine.

She selected a book from the café's small shelf, settled into a corner booth, and crossed her legs. She even hummed something under her breath.

Across the street, Katarina watched from a window, disguised as a low-level clerk. It didn't take her long to identify Camille's position. The enforcer's body language was too controlled. Nobody sat that still unless they'd been trained to. But she didn't approach immediately. First, she circled the area, checking sight lines, identifying potential ambush points, noting escape routes. Only after confirming the perimeter was clear did she take position in the shadows near the café.

Since her first mission's failure, she'd learned to be paranoid. It was the only way to guarantee success.

Time passed. One by one, customers finished their drinks and left. Eventually, only the enforcer remained.

"Excuse me, officer," the waiter approached apologetically. "We're closing for the night. Would you mind...?"

"Of course." The disguised Camille set down her book, she hadn't touched the terrible coffee, and walked out.

The moment she stepped into the alley's shadows, a blade pressed against her throat.

"Leave the intelligence," a cold female voice said from behind her. "Then you can walk away."

"Interesting greeting," Camille replied calmly. She pulled out a folder she'd prepared earlier and held it backward. "Is this how the House Du Couteau operates?"

"No." There was a flicker of emotion in that icy voice. "This is how I operate. Katarina's way. And mine alone."

"In that case," Camille said, and her voice shifted, no longer the gruff male growl but her own cool tone, "give my regards to General Du Couteau."

Katarina's instincts screamed warning. She slashed horizontally, attempting to open Camille's throat before the situation could deteriorate further.

The blade struck an energy barrier that materialized from nowhere, bouncing off with a sharp metallic ring.

"Too late."

Camille tore away the gas mask, revealing her true face. Light erupted around them as six walls of crackling energy burst from the ground, forming a cage that sealed Katarina inside.

Hextech Ultimatum.

The enforcer boots split apart as Camille's true legs emerged. She raised one leg high, pivoted, and brought it down toward Katarina.

"A trap," Katarina said. But instead of fear, there was satisfaction in her voice. "I knew it."

Her body vanished mid-strike, reappearing beside a dagger she'd planted in the shadows moments ago.

Shunpo.

She was already calculating her next move, already planning how to turn the ambush around, when thin red-violet energy filaments materialized around her body. They wrapped tightly and yanked her backward, directly into the path of Camille's descending strike.

"What—"

She'd teleported. And somehow, she was being pulled back.

She twisted mid-air, barely avoiding the blade-leg that would have split her skull. She threw a dagger at Camille's face as she fell. The blade struck the energy barrier and clattered to the ground.

Without hesitation, she blinked to where the dagger had fallen and drove her weapon toward Camille's eyes in a straight thrust.

Camille caught her wrist mid-strike.

"Not bad," she said, sounding impressed. "Good technique. Fast thinking. You might be capable of completing this mission." She released Katarina's hand and deactivated the Hextech Ultimatum. "You pass, but barely."

"What do you mean?" Katarina backed away, reassessing the situation.

She'd realized almost immediately that she wasn't a match for Camille. Those strange suppression abilities, plus the energy shield, it was a perfect counter to her fighting style. Mobility meant nothing if she could be pulled back. And lethality meant nothing if she couldn't break through defenses.

"The mission is extremely difficult," Camille said. "Emystan doesn't trust someone with your reputation. I needed to verify your capabilities myself."

She raised an eyebrow. "As an assistant, you're acceptable."

"Assistant?" Katarina pointed at herself. "Me?"

She'd trained since childhood in the House Du Couteau's brutal methods. She'd survived their hellish conditioning. All of that, to be someone's assistant?

"Do you object?" Camille asked mildly. "Can you beat me?"

Hearing that, Katarina's defenses crumbled. In Noxus, strength was law. The weak had no right to refuse the strong.

"If you're not satisfied. I can give you another chance. Do you want to try again?"

Camille's tone was casual, as if Katarina were a toy she could break whenever she pleased. And that wasn't far from the truth. Katarina's vaunted Shunpo was a joke against Hextech Ultimatum. Her mobility was crippled, her attacks couldn't penetrate the barrier. She couldn't run or fight. She was completely countered.

"Sleep with one eye open," Katarina said finally, twirling her dagger. She made a throat-slitting gesture, baring her teeth. It was her last act of defiance. But she wasn't stupid enough to keep fighting until Camille's bladed legs pinned her to the ground in defeat.

---

Several small drones, camouflaged as common birds, transmitted the entire encounter back to The Last Drop in real-time.

Piltover's fate was sealed. Abandoned by the Black Rose, realizing resistance was futile, Camille had defected to Zaun.

The result: wherever she went, surveillance followed. Zaun's camouflage technology was perfect for this, as long as nobody realized what those "birds" actually were, the intelligence gathered was priceless.

So far, nobody in Runeterra had developed countermeasures.

"I didn't expect that," Cipher murmured, watching the footage. "Katarina has some personality under all that cold professionalism."

Powder sat next to him. Her expression had been neutral throughout the surveillance feed. Now, as Cipher made his comment, something shifted in her eyes.

"You think that's interesting?" she asked quietly.

"Sure. She's not what I expected. Most assassins trained from childhood end up emotionally dead. She's got fire." He was thinking about recruitment potential, about whether someone with Katarina's skills could be turned into an asset. "Could be useful if we play this right."

"Useful," Powder repeated. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table. "Useful."

Cipher didn't notice.

"Think about it. We need an intelligence network. Du Couteau just sent us a trained operative with a grudge against her own family. If we can turn her, and everything suggests we can, she brings skills and connections we don't currently have."

"You're actually gonna recruit her?"

"Of course. That's the whole point." He pulled up additional files on his datapad. "Katarina, the Crimson Elite, eventually maybe even Talon if we play this right. Build a proper covert operations division."

"The Crimson Elite..." Powder said. "And now you want to add an assassin too?"

Finally, something in her tone made him lift his eyes from the datapad.

"Powder, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She laughed. "What's wrong is that ever since we got back from that other world, there have been women showing up everywhere."

She stood up abruptly. "First, there were all those women in Piltover trying to arrange marriages with you. Then the Noxian 'elite' squad that just happens to be all female. Now assassins, also female. And you're sitting there grinning about how 'interesting' they all are."

"That's not..." Cipher stumbled over his words. "I'm talking about operational capabilities, not—"

"Promise me something," Powder cut him off. Her eyes were suspiciously bright. "No more women in your security detail. Four is already too many."

Cipher blinked.

"Alright," he said slowly. "No more. Four is enough. I promise."

Powder studied his face for a long moment, trying to determine if he actually understood what she was upset about. Eventually, she sat back down.

"Good."

Cipher decided not to push for clarity. Sometimes survival meant strategic retreat.

---

"Cipher," Viktor said quietly, breaking the awkward silence. "About Jayce. Don't you think your training plan might be excessive?"

He'd been wanting to bring this up for days. Ever since Jayce had found out about Viktor's condition and immediately offered to resign from the council to focus on finding a cure, Viktor had been reconsidering his opinion of the man.

It was impossible not to be moved by that kind of instant, selfless response.

"Breaking his leg and forcing him to find his way back alone. It seems cruel."

"I agree," Heimerdinger added softly. "He is a good boy at heart. He's brilliant but sheltered. I'm concerned he won't be able to handle that level of hardship. There are gentler ways to build character."

Cipher leaned back in his chair, considering their objections.

"Jayce is talented," he said finally. "Nobody's disputing that. But talent isn't enough. Not for what's coming."

He pulled up a map on his datapad. "We're facing Noxian assassins, Black Rose operatives, potential conflict with Demacia, gods know what else. Jayce needs to understand that his inventions have consequences. That people die when things go wrong. Comfortable lab work isn't the same as field operations."

"That doesn't require breaking his leg," Viktor pointed out.

"No," Cipher agreed. "But it requires pushing him beyond his comfort zone. Way beyond. He needs to understand his own limits. And he needs to develop survival instincts instead of relying on privilege and talent."

He looked at both of them. "You want him to grow up? This is how. Not by coddling him, but by forcing him to face consequences. If he can't handle a broken leg and wilderness navigation, how's he going to handle a real combat situation?"

"There's a difference between challenging someone and traumatizing them," Heimerdinger said gently.

"Maybe," Cipher replied. "But the world doesn't care about the difference. And I'd rather he learn in controlled conditions than die because he wasn't prepared."