Runeterra: Begging for Help in a Parallel Universe!

The evening of the same day, at a corner of Sun Gate Square.

At the front of the Shrike Bird Newspaper office.

"You're really crazy!"

Tamara walked out the door with Link, while the editor-in-chief smiled and waved goodbye to them. Behind him, the newspaper office looked impoverished. After years of losses, someone was finally willing to take over the paper. Heaven truly has eyes!

"As long as I can get into the Kiramman family's door, none of this matters," Link said, glancing at his press card, his face calm as a still lake.

A nearly bankrupt newspaper had drained almost all his Gold Seas, but Tamara had bargained hard on his behalf. In the end, Link managed to buy the management rights to the Shrike Bird Daily for only 920 Gold Seas, inheriting its debts and assets. It was a paper once celebrated for its accurate reporting of hot news, earning the nickname "News Butcher" among competitors. However, envious rivals had driven it into decline, leaving it buried under debt and unable to pay wages or rent. Only the editor-in-chief had struggled to keep it alive.

Despite its sorry state, Link saw potential. He needed the paper for his agreement with Cassandra from another universe. With Cassandra's funding, the paper's financial troubles were a minor concern.

"You've really changed, Link," Tamara remarked, staring at him before shaking her head.

Link tucked his press card into his chest pocket and asked, "Do you think Mrs. Norin's boutique rents out formal dresses?"

Tamara smirked. "Others might not, but you—the genius rising star of P City, Link Star—could probably convince her."

"Sharp-tongued as always," Link laughed, handing her a few Gold Seas. "Here's your commission."

Tamara accepted the money with a wink. "If you climb the ladder, don't forget your old friend."

"Don't worry. I'll hire you as my personal housekeeper," Link teased, raising his eyebrows.

After chatting a while longer, they parted ways. Link headed to Mrs. Norin's boutique to rent a formal dress, then hired a carriage to the Kiramman Estate. At the gate, he used his press card to gain entry. The carriage dropped him off at the entrance hall and left without a backward glance.

Taking a deep breath, Link adjusted his tie and stepped inside. The hall was filled with high-society figures, noblemen, and elites. As an apprentice reporter, he was far out of place in such company.

Standing near a pillar, Link scanned the room for Kaitlyn Kiramman, the eldest daughter and heir of the Kiramman family. She was yet to appear.

A mocking voice interrupted his search. "Look at this—a little guy sneaking into a funeral, trying to use it as a stepping stone!"

Link frowned as the hall's guests turned to stare. He faced the source of the voice: a young man with golden hair, dressed sharply in black. A flower pinned to his chest completed his smug appearance.

"I need an explanation for your words," Link said calmly.

"Explanation?" The man laughed. "You're the one who should explain how a small reporter like you got in here."

"Small reporter?" Link replied evenly. "May I ask who you are?"

"Editor-in-chief of the Progressive Daily, Wallace!"

Link's tone remained calm. "Well, Mr. Wallace, it seems your teacher forgot to teach you manners. While the Progressive Daily is an industry giant, the Shrike Bird Daily predates it by years. Yes, we've fallen, but like a phoenix, we'll rise again."

The crowd murmured in approval as Link continued, "Instead of wasting time belittling others, you might consider interviewing these guests about their thoughts on the tragedy and their expectations of the authorities. That's what responsible journalists do."

Wallace's face reddened, his fists clenched. Before he could retort, the Kiramman family's butler stepped forward. "Mr. Wallace, please calm down."

The butler turned to Link. "You are?"

"Link Star, special reporter for Shrike Bird Daily," Link introduced himself.

The butler nodded. "I believe the master would like to speak with you."

Link hesitated. "It feels inappropriate to disturb him on such a solemn day."

The butler's expression softened. "Your consideration is appreciated."

Excusing himself, Link began interviewing prominent guests about the recent attack that had shaken the city. Afterward, he grabbed some food from the banquet hall and stepped onto a quiet balcony for some fresh air.

As he scanned the hall, his eyes fell on a striking figure. With rose-red hair, tattoos, and a bold demeanor, she stood apart from the polished elite. It was Vi, the future law enforcer of P City.

Sensing his gaze, Vi approached. Leaning against the railing, she stared at the garden below. After a moment's hesitation, Link spoke softly. "You're from Zaun, aren't you?"

Vi's sharp gaze met his. "What's it to you?"

"I want to hear your perspective on the attack and its impact on P City and Zaun. If tensions continue to grow, a clash between the two cities seems inevitable."

Vi scoffed. "Why should I bother? Anything I say will just get twisted."

Link smiled gently. "Sometimes speaking out helps."

Vi's expression wavered, but before she could respond, a voice called out.

"Vi, I've been looking for you." Kaitlyn Kiramman approached. Her delicate face was pale with worry, and traces of tears lingered at the corners of her bright eyes.

"Hey, Kaitlyn," Vi greeted casually.

Kaitlyn's gaze shifted to Link, taking in the camera around his neck. "Reporter?"

"Not at the moment," Link replied with a shrug. "Just finished work."

Vi smirked. "This kid was grilling me about Zaun and the future."

Kaitlyn's scrutinizing gaze softened slightly. "Thank you for coming."

"Link Star," he introduced himself, shaking her hand.

Kaitlyn's lips curved into a faint smile. "Thank you for your intentions, Link. But you might have to work overtime."

"Of course," Link said, feeling a glimmer of hope. He was getting closer to the breakthrough he needed.