Chantal

[Chantal]

Bernard Pierlot's lips briefly wince in an involuntary reaction to his new protégé's enthusiastic tone of voice. His loins ache to snap at Delcroix, for his lack of seriousness, for not respecting the tone of the sheer scale of what happened here. His menacingly serious face that now shows signs of annoyment makes the Rookie pause briefly, his lifted hand that is holding the diary wavering and his enthusiastic proud grin starting to slowly turn upside down. Bernard in a short wave of self-awareness noticed the reaction he evoked. He hard tries to remember his first days after joining The Gallic Royal Police, before his pure and idealistic soul was disfigured by the relentless barrage of scars the ruthless swords of experience on duty inflicted upon it. He both envied and abhored Delcroix's child like drive, and he tried his best not to snuff it out right away. Time will do that for him. With a forced sublte smile he nodded and let out "Excellent agent, well done - let's have a look!"

Delcroix's pride returned to his face after it trembled briefly when he saw his superior's face. It was but a diary but he was ecstatic to gain Pierlot's praise. He remembered the rumors of the long queue of those that learned under his tutelage. Of those quitting GNI altogether, broken. But also of the many that did extremely well after enduring the agent's methods. "Here you go Monsieur"

Pierlot took the object and began reading the first entry. At first glance it was just some random babble of a teenager. Bernard's relationship to children was distant to say the least. His commitment to duty never allowed him to marry or have children, or at least that's what he always claimed when asked. He wanted to put the diary down after skimming the first few words, but he went on to examine it beforehand. It was en electronic diary, a standalone gadget people that didn't want to load their entries straight to The Neural Net used. It was covered with dust and carried signs of wear and tear, but it was inexplicably intact. Pierlot looked around the room - there was nothing else that withstood The Cascade this unblemished, and what's more - why would a random teenager go through so much trouble to make the date of the entries unreadable? It all didn't sit right with The Investigator - he turned the device back on and with a flick of a finger turned the electronical "page" to the next entry.