The stench of the room was a final insult I wouldn't tolerate. I didn't bother with the door or the grease-stained stairs. I kicked the rotted window frame open and plummeted toward the alleyway, my cloak billowing like a predatory shadow.
I hit the sand-dusted ground with a soft thud, the impact muffled by my physical control. The two students jumped, their eyes nearly popping out of their skulls as they stared at my hooded silhouette. In the dim light, the metallic glint of my gear and my cold, singular gaze made me look like an executioner.
"Look over there! A knight!" one of them shrieked, his voice cracking with the onset of a withdrawal-induced panic.
"Run! We're about to be expelled!" the other cried.
Fear proved more potent than the dopamine itch, for now. The drug dealer, realizing he was facing someone far more dangerous than a local patrolman, tucked the vial into his coat and bolted into the labyrinth of side-streets. The two students scrambled after him, their expensive robes catching on the jagged stone walls as they vanished into the darkness.
I didn't chase them these two students, I only focused on the drug dealer.
I stood in the center of the alley, the silence returning like a heavy blanket. On the ground, glinting in the dirt, was a small, stray grain of the lotus dust that had fallen during the scuffle. I knelt and picked it up. Even that tiny speck hummed with a sickly, sweet magical resonance.
I looked up at the towering spires of the Academy that loomed over the slums. Nikolai was wrong about one thing, I wasn't here as a savior. Saviors tried to heal the sick. I was here to cut out the infection.
I wouldn't wait for the Council's bureaucratic red tape at sunrise. If the students were buying here, the source was close. I pulled my hood tighter, my blood-prosthetic arm tingling with anticipation. I was going to follow the scent of that pink dust straight to the Alchemist Guild's throat.
"Eirene, he's heading left, don't even show a shed of your blood wings, you'll get exposed." Plasma warned.
After that, with the small flap of my blood wings, not fully exposed, I immediately captured the drug dealer easily, I gripped his hands high until in resembled a handcuff
The transition from bounty hunter to predator was seamless. I moved through the twisting side-streets of Sisiphon like a ghost, my agility making the distance between me and the dealer vanish in seconds. I cornered him in a dead-end alcove shadowed by a crumbling stone archway.
I didn't draw a blade. Instead, I let my Appraisal skill wash over him.
Zenni Roy
Skills: Light Magic
Vitality: 200
Strength: 100
Defense: 100
Agility: 310
Mana: 1000
He trembled, looking at my hooded form. I held up a pre-written note from the folds of my cloak:
"Who do you work for?"
Zenni sneered, a desperate bravado flickering in his eyes. He stayed silent, likely more afraid of Oksana than me. He was wrong. I leaned in, my hand hovering inches from his chest. I didn't strike, I simply used Pain Manipulation. I bypassed his skin and went straight for his central nervous system, heightening his sensitivity to a thousand percent.
The air itself felt like sandpaper on his nerves, his own heartbeat felt like a hammer against his ribs. For sixty agonizing seconds, he writhed in silence, I had placed a hand over his mouth to muffle the screams that would have alerted the district.
Finally, I released the pressure. He slumped, sobbing and gasping for air.
"The sewers! Underground labs... I work in one under the South District. There are five of them... all Oksana's. I swear, I don't know where the others are! I only have the key for mine!"
He tried to scramble away, but I was faster. My hunger flared, not just for food, but for the information stored in his very essence. I pinned him to the wall and let my fangs sink into the crook of his neck. I only took enough, a small portion of blood, but it was sufficient for my DNA mimicry. I felt his biological blueprints map themselves into my mind.
[DNA copied, you can shapeshift into Zenni Roy]
I delivered a swift, blunt strike to his temple, knocking him unconscious. Within minutes, I had stripped him of his outer tattered coat and headwear, dragging his limp body into a nearby dumpster.
Now it was time for the best part, my shapeshifting ability.
[Analyzing genetic data... 100% match found in blood reservoir. Commencing Morphological Shift.]
I focused on the shifting cells in my body. My height adjusted, my facial features softened, and my scent changed. I now looked exactly like Zenni Roy.
Nikolai whispered as we pulled up to a modest, sand-colored building with a flickering lantern.
[Visual confirmation: 100% accuracy. Heart rate, scent, and vocal cords successfully calibrated. Successfully shapeshifted into Zenni Roy]
Donning his clothes, I felt the shapeshifting ability shift my features, my aura dampening to match the pathetic, nervous energy of a low-level dealer. I moved toward the rusted iron grate of a nearby manhole and slipped into the darkness below.
I lifted a heavy iron grate in the corner of the alley, the smell of damp earth and chemical rot wafting up to greet me. I descended into the darkness of the sewers.
"Now, I can finally talk." I said through Zenni's voice
"Miss bartering me, Eirene."
"Shut up."
The sewers of Sisiphon weren't just for waste, they were the veins of the city's decay. The smell of ammonia and sweet, rotting lotus flowers grew stronger as I waded through the shallow, murky water. Somewhere ahead, the hum of alchemical equipment echoed through the tunnels.
I rounded a corner and saw the faint, flickering glow of pink light reflecting off the damp stone walls. I could hear the clinking of glass and the low murmur of men talking.
The air in the sewers was a thick, hallucinogenic soup. In Caria, the sewers smelled of damp earth and neglect, here, they smelled of a chemical paradise. The pink mist clung to the walls like a living thing, swirling in the stagnant air. If I didn't have poison immunity, my lungs would have melted into a euphoric sludge within minutes. To me, it was just a foul, floral-scented nuisance.
I reached the heavy iron door bathed in the neon-pink glow. I knocked, three sharp, rhythmic raps.
The peephole slid open with a metallic snick. A pair of bloodshot, weary eyes peered through. I didn't blink. I focused my mind, triggering my skill inspect while maintaining my physical disguise.
Anastasia Plum
Skills: Drug immunity
Vitality: 100
Strength: 50
Defense: 70
Agility: 100
Mana: 100
Drug immunity- immune to all debuffs and drug effects.
"That was quick, Zenni, did you sell it all to the students? I need the payment. Fifty silver, or don't bother coming back in."
Anastasia rasped, her voice sounding like sandpaper on glass. I reached into my stolen cloak. I had the pouch from the merchant, which fortunately contained more than enough and the leftovers of the product I'd confiscated from Zenni.
"I'm done, Anastasia, I acquired the fifty silver. Every bit of it."
I slid the silver through the small exchange slot. I heard her counting it, the coins clinking with a greedy rhythm. Then, the heavy bolts of the door groaned and retracted. The door swung open, venting a fresh cloud of pink steam that would have killed a normal human.
Anastasia stood there, her lab apron stained with chemicals, her hair a matted mess of dark purple. She looked past Zenni into the dark tunnel, then stepped aside, waving me in with a trembling hand.
"Give me that, I'm tired of cooking this damn Lotus Dust. My lungs feel like they're full of lead. It's your turn to man the vats."
She snapped, snatching the empty vials from my hand. She looked exhausted, her movements twitchy and erratic. She turned her back to me, walking toward a massive glass apparatus where a bubbling, neon-pink liquid was being distilled over a steady blue flame. She didn't realize she had just invited a reaper into her kitchen.
"Start the next batch, Zenni, If we're short on the quota, Oksana will have our heads for the next distillation."
The door thudded shut behind me, locking us in. I looked at her back, then at the two other men working the filters in the corner. The bounty hunter in my chest began to hum. I didn't come here to cook.