If Altaïr were to rank the people he considered reliable, Master Amos would undoubtedly be near the very top.
He could rest easy after entrusting the exchange of insights on Weapon Arts to the old man. With that concern settled, Altaïr felt entirely at ease.
As for what came next, Altaïr briefly discussed their plans with his companions, and they decided to visit Francesca first.
When they had parted ways in Grom-Baum, she had mentioned a research project at the Royal Academy, and he had no idea whether they were still short-handed.
If they had not filled every position yet, joining them was certainly worth considering.
After all, Francesca had told them that the Royal Academy's "aerial research laboratory" project, modeled after the Wycademy's own, generally studied rare and unusual Monster species.
For young Hunters like them, such targets held a special allure.
If the collaboration went smoothly and the two sides became acquainted, they would be among the first people considered whenever another rare Monster appeared. That would mean a steady stream of interesting quests!
With that hope in mind, the three of them went to Francesca's home and happened to catch her just as she was heading out.
"Yo! You're back?" With a messenger bag slung over her shoulder and what looked like a... slingshot tucked behind her hip, Francesca appeared ready for a long journey. Her gaze settled on Morgan.
She fell silent for two seconds, then asked, "Who taught you to dress like that?"
"I put it together myself," Morgan replied, as deadpan as ever.
Francesca clicked her tongue and offered no further comment.
Beside her, Pawdrick groomed his flowing mane and added, "Meow, your old outfit made people mistake you for a girl, meow. With this one, no one can tell either way, meow. If anything, you stand out even more than before, meow."
Morgan: "..."
"..."
"Ahem, Francesca, we came to ask about the research project aboard the Knowledge Seeker," Altaïr interjected, expertly changing the subject for Morgan. "I know we're rather late, but I still wanted to ask. Does the project need more people?"
"It does!" Francesca nodded emphatically. "When I didn't hear back from you, I called in a few old friends. But I've heard this target is a real handful, so having the three of you join us would be perfect. Follow me!"
With that, Francesca kicked the door shut with a bang and strode off ahead.
The three exchanged a glance and hurried after her.
For some reason, Altaïr could not shake the feeling that Francesca was spoiling for a fight and had brought them along as backup.
—--
They did not head to the Royal Academy's main campus. Instead, they took a carriage straight to a vast, partially open-sided structure on the outskirts of the city.
Altaïr and Morgan had never been there, but Isis was quite familiar with the place. This was the dry dock where the Knowledge Seeker was moored.
Since the research project was based aboard the Knowledge Seeker, it made sense to meet its director here.
"Come to think of it, who's in charge of the Knowledge Seeker project?" Isis asked curiously. "Is it Sheila? She organized the mission when we captured that Kuarusepu, after all."
"Ah, no. Sheila did help found the project, but she's getting on in years. Traveling all day aboard the Knowledge Seeker, climbing mountains and crossing seas, would probably be too much for her.
"Someone else is directing the project. You should know him too. Do you remember Alva?"
"Alva... that sounds so familiar. Is it because of Alma? Their names are similar... No, no, that's not it... Ugh, I can't remember..." Isis clutched her head as an inexplicable ache throbbed through her temples.
Isis's reaction piqued Altaïr's curiosity, and he could not help asking, "Is he another old friend of your family, Isis?"
"More or less. Oh, right, you all know the Professor, don't you? Alva was his prized student and formerly headed the Frenzy Virus Research Institute.
"With the Frenzy Virus better understood in recent years, he was reassigned to lead the Knowledge Seeker project."
At that, Francesca turned back to Isis with a rather odd smile. "When your father served with the Research Commission in the New World, Alva was his Handler. The two of them were exceptionally close.
"When you were about four or five, your father even sent you to stay at Alva's home for a while, saying you needed exposure to a more scholarly atmosphere. He also asked Alva to see whether you had the aptitude to become a scholar."
"What happened then?" Altaïr pressed, eager for more details.
"Less than two weeks later, she was sent home, and she remained dazed for quite a while afterward. The sight of a book would make her cry, which frightened Amos half to death.
"After that, your parents completely abandoned the idea of steering you toward an academic life."
"Aah!" Isis clutched her head. "When I was little, I often had a nightmare where I was trapped in a room crammed with books, and a strange man in glasses kept telling me all sorts of things I couldn't understand!
"So that wasn't a dream?!"
Altaïr: "..."
"..."
Whether the problem lay with Isis, Alva, or Gordon, Altaïr honestly could not tell.
Maybe all three of them had issues?
Led by Francesca, the group boarded the giant airship docked in the shipyard without any trouble and met the "possibly problematic" Alva.
He was around fifty, of average height and rather lean. His narrow, gold-rimmed glasses gave him a refined, scholarly air.
How could Altaïr put it...?
Just as Gordon perfectly matched the public's stereotypical image of a "Hunter," Alva perfectly matched its stereotypical image of a "scholar."
In short, he had the kind of face that made him "look like he'd read a great many books."
Although the story Francesca had told them was a little strange, Altaïr's first impression of Alva was honestly quite favorable.
Alva reminded him of Lamarck; they were probably the same kind of person.
One could learn a great deal of useful knowledge by spending time with people like them. As Altaïr had suspected, Isis was the one with the problem.
Hearing them enter, the middle-aged scholar looked up from whatever he had been writing at his desk.
"Francesca? Didn't you say you wanted to take a few more days off?" His gaze then shifted to the people behind her.
"Could you be... Isis?" His eyes widened behind his lenses.
"H-Hello. It's been a long time, Uncle Alva." Isis forced a strained smile.
Now that a figure from her childhood nightmares stood before her in the flesh, her head began to throb again.
As Alva rose, he looked Isis up and down several times. Then he removed his glasses and rubbed the corners of his eyes, his voice filled with heartfelt emotion. "A father's physique and a mother's face... This truly is... a triumph of genetics."
Isis: "?"
What kind of comment was that supposed to be?
She could not help grumbling, "No matter how you look at it, I'm not as huge as Dad, am I...?"
Alva answered in complete seriousness, "Men and women exhibit sexual dimorphism in body size and muscular development.
"Setting muscle mass aside, your height among women is in the same category as your father's height among men. To put it more bluntly... you qualify as a Gold Crown-sized specimen.
"Yes! You and your father are both Gold Crown Homo sapiens!"
Isis: "."
Alva was beginning to get on her nerves.
"Ahem." Francesca coughed and admonished him in exasperation. "Honestly, watch what you say. Who uses 'Gold Crown' to describe a young woman?"
"Oh, my apologies. That was a slip of the tongue. I merely meant to compliment Isis on her healthy development. Her parents' genetic advantages are clearly expressed in her. She's a healthy, strong, towering beauty!
"Compared with that, you are..."
"Stop, please!" Francesca interrupted Alva's genetic analysis through gritted teeth. "Please, I'm begging you, stop complimenting people like that!"