Both Dai Li and Kyoshi Warrior soon entered the main structure within the courtyard, the former home of the deceased pair. Inside, the search was meticulous. Hidden compartments yielded parchments and scrolls depicting the iconic earthen gauntlets wielded by the Dai Li. More troubling still are the pieces of small earthen tiles laid out upon a table, clear evidence of attempts to replicate both the arsenal and the clandestine Earthbending techniques of the secret police.
The Inquisitor and his subordinates took care that Mayumi glimpsed as little of the confiscated material as possible, especially an old Dai Li training manual that was found behind a portrait. Whatever purity might have existed in Zhao Jingzhong and He Tishou's bond, even Mayumi could not ignore the risk of such dangerous Earthbending techniques falling into the hands of bandits and outlaws, or worse, being taught to religious zealots already rumored to maintain ties to this very place.
"It would be disastrous if enemies within or beyond our walls were to replicate the Earthbending passed down from our shared founder," the Inquisitor said, choosing his words with care so as not make light of Mayumi's true identity. "Unlike your former post, my colleagues and I contend daily with threats that demand our most guarded knowledge remain secure. Many may use it against the city itself."
In a city as dense as Ba Sing Se, such techniques in the hands of those outside the law would be catastrophic. Afterall, it is believed that a single Dai Li agent could be a worthy match even to a seasoned general of the city.
"Inquisitor," a voice called out. "A new lead."
A hidden tunnel had been uncovered beneath the building. In a cruel, almost poetic irony to the romantic Omashu tale that instilled much fascination, it appeared the passage had served as a clandestine route for the lovers' meetings. For how long this nonsense has persisted is irrelevant, as the Inquisitor regarded Zhao Jingzhong only as a disgraced officer who had colluded with an outlaw.
Yet the multitude of many footprints suggested more recent use. The tunnel's destination remained unknown, but the proximity to the Upper Ring made it ideal for those wishing to move unseen, avoiding the guards stationed between districts.
"We are finished here for now," the Inquisitor said as they returned to the courtyard.
Just as Mayumi believed his cold efficiency had reached its limit, the Inquisitor lifted the saber once more and severed Zhao Jingzhong's queue, letting the severed ponytail fall onto the rain-soaked stones.
"He is already gone, why need this needless discretion?" Mayumi asked. In both the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation, the cutting of one's long hair carried the weight of profound disgrace. But usually it is a rite of shame usually reserved for the self. "He may not have been your relative, but he did belong to your brotherhood."
"Brotherhood is a sentimental fiction," the Dai Li Inquisitor replied. "Only fools cling to such romantic notions of loyalty. We do not enjoy what you and fellow warriors can afford yourselves."
An unspoken assent rippled through the surrounding agents, their silence an affirmation of the Inquisitor's cynicism. Mayumi yielded at last. And yet, despite their shared complicity, she suspected only the Inquisitor possessed the particular hardness required to slay a peer and feel nothing stir in his chest.
Though no living seditionists were taken, the Dai Li salvaged what victory they could. Manuals were seized, techniques erased, every trace of the secret Earthbending style either confiscated or destroyed. Still, the damage may already have taken root. Knowledge, once glimpsed, has a way of spreading beyond all efforts to contain it. How many had already learned? The direness of the consequences would only reveal in the future.
Beneath the night sky, the Inquisitor extended one arm. A brown-feathered messenger hawk descended upon it, talons gripping his forearm with practiced ease. "To pacify your pedantic conscience, others will see to the burial of the two seditionists." His gaze lingered on the Kyoshi Warrior, whose face remained entirely concealed.
Once the hawk was dispatched with a newly written message, they resumed their walk as though nothing of consequence had occurred. Ba Sing Se is famed for its walls, but also for its secrets. Amid its countless districts and teeming populace, much could vanish without a trace. Yet the aristocracy too nursed its conspiracies. The city's imposing facade impressed at first glance, far grander than any remote island village. But the more Mayumi glimpsed what festered beneath its gleaming shell, the more her longing for home deepened.
Such is the cost of seeing the wider world. To understand lands beyond one's birthplace is to reckon with both virtue and rot. At least for Mayumi, her sister would never be burdened with the knowledge of Ba Sing Se's hidden face.
The accompanying Dai Li agents were dismissed to tend their wounds. Mayumi alone was ordered to remain, uncertain what further purpose the Inquisitor had in mind for her. Together, they entered a local bazaar, sheltered from the relentless rain.
The blood staining the Inquisitor's robes had thinned under the downpour, though it remained unmistakable. The food vendor studiously avoided his gaze, spoke sparingly and asked no questions, wisely choosing ignorance over curiosity. To Mayumi, the Inquisitor's true weapon was not Earthbending, but his mastery over human emotion, the ability to coerce through fear, sentiment, and what others held dear. Though tonight's manipulation had not yielded all he desired, such methods were no less insidious to a warrior who relies on steel and armor.
Mayumi exhaled sharply. Her blade was sharp, but the Dai Li's words could keep a weapon sheathed just as effectively. To think she had entangled herself in such circumstances left a slightly bitter taste in her mouth.
"Here," the Inquisitor said, offering her a small pouch.
Surprisingly, it is food. Poisoned or not, she had little choice.
Reluctantly, Mayumi bit into a steamed meat bun. Over time, she had developed a fondness for the city's humble fare, simple dishes that surpassed the extravagant banquets of the Upper Ring in honest satisfaction. Even the wealthy seemed to occasionally shared this sentiment. What kind of reprobate would refuse tender meat wrapped in soft white dough, so richly satisfying despite its humble origins?
"I must concede my gratitude to your earlier intervention," the Inquisitor said between bites. "But understand this, I prefer you not act beyond my expectations."