'Winter' reached into his Arbiter: Vault, pulled out a folder, and placed it onto the table, sliding it over to 'Reaper'.
"Everything we've been able to gather on the kid is in that folder. There are documents recording his relatives, his older brother dying recently, the disappearance of his other brother, his two sisters, someone by the name of Mike, and a woman named Lyra Moon. We've got reports on his parents, his city, his continent, even down to the damn addresses of where each one lives. Do what you must to kill Zay Yuso—even if that means killing his entire family."
'Reaper' smiled as he took the folder, flipped it open, and began going over the details of Zay's entire family.
'A father named Dale. A mother named Rosemary. Two sisters—Lily and Maple. Two brothers... one dead, one missing. This kid's medical history, even... holy shit, there's even details about the friends he had growing up, the academies he went to... I don't know what the hell this kid did to piss these bastards off, but damn, I feel sorry for him.'
'Reaper' looked up at 'Winter' after skimming through several of the pages, his grin widening.
"You must really want this kid dead, huh?"
"Get the job done and the money is yours," 'Winter' replied before standing up and walking out through the doorway—though there was no door, just a hollow frame. Blood dripped from the hem of his coat as he stepped into the hall, turned the corner, and disappeared into shadow.
'Reaper' sat alone and continued reading.
'Began to attend 'The Rain Academy' at the age of four... skips quite a few years, then says the kid developed an illness that left him bedridden...'
He kept scanning the pages, suddenly stopping at a certain section.
'The kid became bedridden due to this illness, but then just... started moving around again? What kind of doctor does this kid have? A damn prophet?'
'Reaper' laughed under his breath, shaking his head as he read through more reports from witnesses who had encountered Zay during his travels.
'Stopped at a mountain where Kazren was staying? Why does... that name sound familiar?' He repeated it to himself several times until his eyes widened.
"Kazren... as in the Stray Blade Kazren?"
'Reaper' burst into a thunderous fit of laughter, his hand slamming onto the edge of the counter. With a crack and a groan of splintering wood, the surface shattered beneath his grip.
"Kazren... I knew that name was familiar. I was the one who killed that bastard back in Lyre. He was strong—especially for someone without aura, I'll admit—but he wasn't nearly as strong as he used to be."
'I guess everything comes full circle. Raven's Eye hired me to kill that bastard when they found out 'The Stray Blade' was on their ass... and now 'False Threads' want me to kill his student? Damn, my life really is one hell of a ride built on pure luck.'
'Reaper' closed the document, spat a wad of saliva onto the head of the decapitated bartender on top of the counter, then shoved the folder into his Arbiter: Vault. Without another glance, he walked out of the bar, leaving behind over seventy bodies rotting in pools of blood, their lungs still spilling water as death had already took them over an hour ago.
...
Rei Alvor sat in a small, dimly lit clinic room beside Naomi. Zay lay motionless on a narrow bed, his breathing shallow but steady. The air smelled faintly of herbs, alcohol, and old wood. Shelves lined the walls, filled with worn medical books, glass jars of faded labels, and rusted instruments sealed in cloth wraps. A faint hum came from a flickering ceiling lantern above, casting long shadows that swayed with every breeze that crept through the old wooden walls.
The door creaked open and a man stepped inside, his boots thudding softly against the wooden floorboards. He closed the door behind him with a slow, deliberate pull. The man wore a heavy fur coat draped over his shoulders, rough and worn with age. Beneath it, a black tunic clung tightly to his tall frame, stitched with silver thread at the seams. His leather boots, scuffed and soaked at the base, gave off the scent of rain and soil. He carried a folder under one arm, and after sitting down at a nearby desk, he placed it on the table and reached into a drawer to retrieve a pair of white gloves, slipping them onto his hands with calm precision.
"From what the previous doctor documented," the man began, his voice firm but worn, "the report says he just collapsed, right? No sudden signs, no prior symptoms, nothing unusual beforehand?"
Rei nodded. "That's correct. But, if I may ask… who are you?"
The man gave a small chuckle as he opened the folder and pulled out two pieces of paper, laying them neatly on the desk before closing the folder again.
"Henrick. I'm the one who built this clinic over thirty years ago. It's a pleasure to meet you both. Your names?"
Rei hesitated, glanced at Naomi beside him, then exhaled softly. "Rei Alvor, and this here is Naomi."
Henrick nodded once, then pointed to the two sheets before placing both gloved hands flat against the table. He stared down at the papers for a moment, shaking his head.
"Truthfully, I haven't seen anything like this in all my years. Usually, there's some kind of signal—a brain freeze, heart freeze, even subtle organ distress. But from what I read, the boy just collapsed with no indicators. I don't know what we're dealing with, but I do have two options that might be viable."
He tapped the sheet on the left and looked up at them. "The first is called Quick Heat. It's a procedure we use when we suspect brain or heart freeze. It forces a rapid influx of regulated heat through the nervous system. I can't guarantee it will work, but it's the least invasive method available."
Rei leaned forward. "And the other option?"
Henrick slid the left paper aside and pointed to the one on the right. "The second is called Vice. It's more invasive. We have Mav, our head surgeon, make an incision into the chest, extract blood samples from around the heart, then stitch him back up and wait for lab results."
Rei's throat tightened. "How long would it take to get those results back?"
"Five to nine months. Sometimes up to a year," Henrick replied quietly. He sighed, the weariness in his voice heavy now. There was nothing more he could say.
Rei blinked slowly, then turned his head toward Naomi. She had remained still this entire time, arms folded across her lap. Her eyes opened, slow and unblinking, glaring not at Henrick, but at Rei.
"I will not allow anyone to cut into my master," she said coldly. Her voice was low, but carried an unshakable weight. Her dark eyes shimmered with a burning dark pink aura as the candles lining the walls flickered violently. The shadows in the room twitched.
She turned her gaze fully on Henrick now, voice sharper, eyes wide. The pressure in the room shifted, like something dark had awakened in the corners.
"We'll wait until he wakes up. No operations. Got it?"
Behind Henrick, his shadow twisted unnaturally along the wall, rising and curling until it formed the outline of a long, jagged sword made of pure darkness. It hovered silently, its form flickering with the motion of the candlelight.
Henrick's smile remained steady, though a hint of unease crept across his features. He hadn't noticed the phantom sword behind him. "Alright then. I understand your wishes," he said, his voice composed.
He turned away, removed his gloves, and quietly left the room. The door creaked shut behind him, the soft sound of his boots fading into the wooden halls beyond.