The next day, University of Piltover, Academy of Hextech.
When Caitlyn arrived here yesterday, she was spirited and full of fighting resolve. Like the protagonist of a heroic tale, she was steadfastly chasing her dreams.
But as she revisited this place today, only haggardness and exhaustion remained on her face.
Because Caitlyn had tried. She had tried to make an effort the Enforcer way.
Including her mother, she had consecutively visited six of the highest Councilors of the Piltover Council.
But those Councilors, who usually preached about law and justice in public and wished every citizen would gather to hear them speak, were now each quieter than a graveyard.
They either kept their mouths shut, smiled dismissively, politely claimed they were busy and saw her out immediately upon meeting, or had simply received the news in advance and refused to even let Caitlyn through the gates of their family estates.
Caitlyn finally realized just how feeble the power of a lowly Enforcer truly was without her family's support.
And her last remaining hope was:
The founder of Piltover, the principal of the University of Piltover, the Revered Inventor, a Yordle, and a supreme Councilor of the Council—Professor Heimerdinger.
He was a transcendent, long-lived species, a magical creature from the Spirit Realm. Material wealth held no meaning for him.
Therefore, all the shady dealings of Piltover had nothing to do with this Yordle. The massive web of interests hidden beneath Piltover could not possibly implicate him in any way.
Thus, Heimerdinger was the one with the greatest hope of stepping forward to uphold justice for the people of the Twin Cities.
However...
"Professor Heimerdinger, may I come in?" When Caitlyn knocked on Heimerdinger's office door, the reply she received was:
"Ah... who is it?" a rather nervous voice called out from inside.
"Caitlyn Kiramman," Caitlyn answered.
"Caitlyn, ah... well, I'm not here—cough, cough, no... Professor Heimerdinger stepped out. I am merely his teaching assistant."
"..." Caitlyn fell silent.
"Professor, I recognize your voice... We've met many times. Don't you remember?"
She sighed helplessly and, quite impolitely, pushed the door open directly.
As the door swung open, she saw a tiny Yordle struggling on his tiptoes, clinging to the windowsill and trying to climb outside.
Because his head was too large, it even got stuck in the window frame for a moment.
"Professor," Caitlyn sighed in disappointment. "Are even you hiding from me? I thought you would be different."
Hearing this, Heimerdinger froze. After hesitating for a few seconds, he finally turned around with an awkward expression.
His white eyebrows and beard made him look like an elder, but the natural traits of a Yordle—the short stature, pointed ears, cat-like nose, and those large, clear, innocent eyes—made him look as adorable as a kitten.
Looking into those eyes, Caitlyn suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
Perhaps the reason her mother had only ever taught her bright and beautiful stories in the past, never speaking of the dark and cruel truths, was because she hadn't wanted to pollute her still-innocent gaze with such filthy and sordid matters too early.
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"I've brought you trouble."
Heimerdinger only wanted to study science; he had no desire to navigate social politics or exchanges of interests.
For Caitlyn to dump such a massive problem in front of him was indeed putting him in a difficult position.
"But Professor Heimerdinger, right now, other than you, I truly have no other options."
Caitlyn took out her prepared documents, speaking in an almost pleading tone.
"Professor, please, just take a look."
"Sigh..." Heimerdinger let out a deep breath.
He hopped on his short legs back to his desk and sat down. Only after he straightened his posture and put on a solemn expression did he finally exude a bit of the dignified air of an elder.
"I won't read the materials. I know why you are here, little Caitlyn."
"The matter concerning Marcus and the Iron Fist Gang... those who warned me you might come have already told me everything, holding nothing back."
"Then?" Caitlyn asked, still clinging to a final thread of hope.
The Heimerdinger in her memory was a purely kind and good person. And indeed, he was.
Shouldn't a good person try to find a way to change things upon seeing such a filthy and sordid situation?
But Heimerdinger's answer was, "I am sorry, little Caitlyn."
He lowered his large head in shame, not daring to look at her. "I will not sign this investigation warrant."
"Professor!" Caitlyn tried to argue.
"It is meaningless," Heimerdinger interrupted with a sigh. "Do you understand? It is meaningless."
"Why is it meaningless?!" Caitlyn asked angrily.
Heimerdinger instead asked, "Why did you come to me to sign the investigation warrant? Is my signature any different from someone else's?"
"Of course it's different—you are a Councilor!"
"Does being a Councilor truly make it different?" Heimerdinger recalled calmly. "We Yordles do not like politics, but I have, after all, served as a supreme Councilor in Piltover for exactly three hundred years. I have dealt with every major family that rules this city."
"In these past three hundred years, I have learned at least one thing—"
"It is not the title that gives a person power, but the person who gives meaning to the title."
He paused slightly, then looked at Caitlyn helplessly. "Yes, I am a Councilor. As long as I sign my name on this piece of paper, I can make this investigation warrant an official document with legal effect."
"But even with this investigation warrant, the order still has to be executed by people."
"Little Caitlyn, who do you think is left to help you execute this investigation warrant now?"
Caitlyn felt her blood run cold, rendering her completely speechless for a moment.
He was right. Even if the investigation warrant was approved, theoretically, it still had to be executed by Enforcers.
But now that the Councilors had collectively made their stance clear, and the head of the Piltover Enforcers, Marcus himself, was a corrupt cop... even with an investigation warrant, which Enforcer would dare to investigate him?
This investigation warrant was fundamentally meaningless.
It was just Caitlyn foolishly clinging to that dream of being an Enforcer, clinging to her laughable legal procedures.
"No... this isn't meaningless!"
Caitlyn quietly clenched her fists.
Even after facing such insurmountable walls, her passionate blood had yet to run completely cold.
She still wanted to fight, even if she was entirely alone. "Heimerdinger, please sign this investigation warrant!"
"I refuse to believe that out of all the Enforcers in Piltover, I can't find a few righteous individuals with principles and a backbone. Even if none of them are willing to step forward, even if none of them will help me, I will continue the investigation by myself!"
"Because I am a Piltover Enforcer!"
Caitlyn's hot blood was boiling, and in a daze, even the surrounding air seemed to heat up with her fervor.
And then...
Heimerdinger swiftly doused her fiery resolve. "Caitlyn, I will not sign it."
"Signing it is useless."
"If you don't try, how will you know it's useless?" Caitlyn questioned agitatedly. "Professor Heimerdinger, just believe in me this once..."
"I have tried," Heimerdinger said suddenly.
"Huh?"
"I said, I have tried," Heimerdinger emphasized.
Then, he suddenly asked, "Caitlyn, do you think your mother is a good person?"
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment.
If it had been before yesterday, she definitely would have said yes without hesitation.
But last night, when her mother revealed her true face as a major merchant—that cold tone that treated people as tools, cogs, or even commodities, measuring everything by profit—it made Caitlyn feel incredibly alienated from her.
Was her mother truly a good person?
"I don't know right now, but she definitely used to be."
Heimerdinger looked at Caitlyn with a myriad of emotions, as if trying to see the shadow of her mother's youth in her inexperienced face:
"About twenty years ago, it was also in this very office."
"At that time, your mother was about the same age you are now. Still a child. Just like you, she came to me with a stack of investigation files and made a nearly identical request."
"I did not agree back then either—"
"Because, whether it is you or your mother... in Piltover's not-so-long three-hundred-year history, you are far from the first to think this way and dare to act on it."
"The things you want to attempt have already been attempted by others long ago."
A look of profound emotion, one that only a long-lived species could truly understand, inevitably appeared on Heimerdinger's face:
"Humans... are always repeating their history."