~3.207 words
The darkness in the back-alley of Bacardi Street was bleak.
However, what was even more bleak was the sight of groaning men everywhere. They groaned and moaned in pain, blood oozing out of some's heads while others lay there, half-conscious.
Three of them were still standing, however, "standing" was quite a generous word.
The look in their eyes was that of a terrified rabbit and they were petrified where they stood, unable to even make a sound as a man walked towards them.
The man was a bit above average in height, standing at around 1.79m, with medium-length, curly black hair and pale green eyes.
"D-Do you know who y-you're messing with? We are Highlanders! Our boss will kill you and your filthy boss!" One of the men who were still standing managed to speak, however, his voice was small and trembling, like a child forcing out a threat he didn't believe in himself.
"Negotiations are off the table then." The black-haired man replied calmly.
"Those terms—!"
In the span of a blink—less than that, even—the black-haired man crossed the distance between them, and without a wind-up or a no warning, the sharp and ugly sound of a fist meeting bone echoed. The man's chin gave way instantly, as if made out of the most delicate glass.
At the same time, the man flew from the force of the punch towards the wall to his side, leaving a small dent in it as blood began to fountain out of his skull.
Before anyone could process anything, the second man folded in half as an elbow drove into his midsection and the third received a kick between the legs so devastatingly accurate that he left the ground entirely, hung in the air for a few breathless moments, and came down like a sack of wet grain.
Complete silence overtook Bacardi Street once again.
The black-haired man straightened his sleeve, reached into his coat, produced a small card, and placed it onto the face of the first man.
"You're alive because our boss permitted it," His cold and unhurried pale green eyes swept over them. "Do not come back and test whether that permission still stands."
Saying that, the man slipped his hands inside his pockets, leaving behind about 10 men, still groaning in pain.
*****
Kiyotaka removed the curtains from the windows inside his hotel room and let the morning smog roll in, filling his lungs.
On the bed behind him were a few clothes, a black bunch of hair and a circular structure. Just as he was about to leave for a bath, he saw an illusory door manifest over the clothes and hair, before sucking it in.
It has been a few hours since Kiyotaka advanced to Barbarian, and soon after advancing to Sequence 8, he had gone outside on a "patrol" to test his newfound powers and also, to find out the crux of the Acting Method required to digest Sequence 8 Potion as soon as possible.
'In a sense, Sequence 8 of Barbarian is quite like Sequence 9: Hunter, but in a different way. Upon drinking the potion, the stream of information revealed that I had gained physical attributes that broke the "laws" of a human body.'
The main ability that Kiyotaka had gained was Physical Enhancement, which resulted in inhuman strength, agility, robustness, and endurance that fully breaks the ordinary restraints and rules of the human body.
His muscle density and strength had tripled initially, and as evident from his fight against the non-Beyonder Highlanders, he was able to break their bones with merely 1 strike. Other than this, he had also gained some centimetres in height.
Muscle density was not the only thing that was boosted. His enhanced muscle's elasticity now allowed him to quickly change his movement direction, seemingly bypassing many physical laws and constraints, however, there was something that Kiyotaka observed with this.
'Despite having a better mobility, Hunter's Mystical Item grants greater speed. While I am still faster than normal humans, it is still slow compared to an actual Sequence 9: Hunter. Makes me think again-and-again how I was able to kill Meursault.'
His Muscle Elasticity also allowed him to turn 180 degrees and maintain their original speed perfectly, without deaccelerating. His physical endurance and constitution had been the most enhanced among their physical strengthening, such as wounds that will kill others will only massively injure him.
As a byproduct of this, as a Barbarian, he also gained some strong mental fortitude that made him quite resistant to the effects of fear, pain, psychic and mental influences that don't originate from himself.
What this meant was that he now had a better chance against Patrick Jason and his dog, who were from the Criminal Pathway and focused on turning their opponents' emotions chaotic and then use them against themselves.
This ability felt like godsent, and he had advanced just in time.
Other than these new abilities, his Law Proficiency had also improved. However, this was something that he realized after he went on to hunt other members of various gangs belonging to the Highlanders.
And it was that he could now intuitively know what amount and type of violence is just above the base threshold. In simple words, he could now see the symbolic line where "words" would have no more effects and "violence" needed to take over.
This also worked well with his Eloquence, which he could incorporate overtime, mixing it well with violence, intimidation tactics, misleading words and actions to slowly whittle away at a person's sense of order, allowing him to get his desired outcomes.
He discovered it when he could see the symbolic "line of persuasion" on the goons when he asked them to give up their lands: there was no threshold. It meant that no number of words or money could convince the Highlanders to give up their businesses and lands and instead violence was the only option.
Other than that, his combat ability was greatly enhanced due to him getting Cyst. There were five (5) abilities that came with this Mystical Item.
The first one was Shadow Lurking. Using this ability, Kiyotaka could conceal himself in larger shadows as well as use the power of shadows to secretly track a target.
The second one was Shadow Shaping, enabling him to directly utilize the power of Shadows and Shape those Shadows into weapons or animals.
The third one was Disguise. To some extent, he could modify his own appearance, such as slightly changing facial features. After a lot of trial and error, Kiyotaka was able to morph himself into the "hound" of "Williams Holmes."
It was also the identity that Kiyotaka used while assaulting the Highlanders.
The fourth one was Flesh Bomb. This was the ability that the Giant Man had used. It allowed one to rip their body parts off and then use it as exploding weapons.
The fifth and last one was Flesh and Blood Curse. If he was able to get a hold of his opponent's Flesh and Blood, it can be used to inflict this type of Curse onto the target.
The downside of this Mystical Item was that he would occasionally have degenerate thoughts, the more he uses it. It would also eventually cause a dissociation between his shadow and his real self, which could lead to a loss of control.
'The difference between the side-effects of a Sequence 7 and a Sequence 6 Mystical Item is quite huge. Unlike Ember, I cannot equip Cyst all the time.' Kiyotaka commented in his head.
Standing in front of the full body mirror, Kiyotaka observed himself. His body had noticeably gotten sturdier, and he had grown a little taller too. The fat around his belly was not completely gone, however, it was still much better than before.
When he looked at the bed where his disguise was laid a moment ago, a thought, or rather, a theory formed in Kiyotaka's mind.
'I never noticed it before, but isn't this bestowment ritual that Sherlock performs something like a gate between two places, kind of like the hypothetical teleportation? That means that anything he pulls in that Space Above the Grey Fog, can be sent back via a sacrificial ritual...
...in one of his mysticism classes, he did mention something about our Spirit Bodies being pulled above the Grey Fog during our weekly Tarot Club meetings. Spirit bodies are usually incorporeal, that means if I can pray for a sacrificial ritual and let the illusory window appear and then have him pull above the Grey Fog, he can hypothetically send me back through via his "bestowment"
That would mean that my body will be in a vulnerable state, however, if this were to work, then it would make life much easier while trying to inspect the supposed Card of Blasphemy. Of course, it could be possible that it's not it, and I am just wasting my time, however, if I were to involve Sherlock in this, I would have to concede spoils of war.
In a high-stakes mission like this where the end goal is purely to see if it's really a Card of Blasphemy and then stealing it if it is what we assume it to be, then there would be a silent dispute over its ownership.
At least until the matter of Jason Patrick is solved, I have to avoid provoking Sherlock.'
Taking a mental note to try this method later on, Kiyotaka stripped the last of his clothes and walked inside the bathroom to take a quick and warm bath. As he was inside, he stood underneath the shower and stared at himself in the mirror across him.
For a moment, he thought that his thoughts had gone sluggish. However, an intense feeling of someone standing right behind him and blowing hot air on his neck brought him out of this petrified stupor.
He suddenly looked back, the hot drops of water splashing everywhere. His hands were already up in defense and his entire body had tensed up like a coiled spring. He then calmly looked ahead, at the mirror and his reflection, through the narrow slit of the window and at the door.
All of these places looked normal without any normal or supernatural means of infiltration.
'That did not feel right. I am positive I was under some kind of influence; however, I cannot detect it. This could only mean one thing: The interference is from a being of a much higher level than me, or from a Pathway that specializes in whatever that was.'
Making a preliminary judgement of his situation, Kiyotaka did not show any abnormalities in his behavior, nor did he let his emotions waver. His face was as stoic as ever, and his heart was beating normally, without betraying a shed of fluctuating emotions.
"Gruff!"
Outside, a random dog cried out with a moan and an ominous sound filled the air.
Kiyotaka looked in the direction of the sound. Despite not being able to see through the wall, he could more or less assess what was going on. He looked down at his hands and then clenched them. "And so, it begins."
*****
"Are you sure?" A gruff voice spoke slowly, looking at a neatly written letter.
The surroundings were all crimson, enveloped in a dream-like haze and strange, undulating atmosphere that kept transitions from one scene to another, keeping it in constant chaos.
"I am. He is trustworthy, no matter his past." A woman replied in a solemn manner.
"Hmm. If that's the truth, then let us not discuss anything anymore. Hand over this permission letter and get that ready for dispatch. It returned from Tingen, right?"
"Yes. It returned within a week of the incident."
"Alright. Do it then." The man spoke in a casual manner, the previous malice which was slightly visible in his tone completely disappearing.
"Got it." The woman replied tersely as she watched the man leave in a casual manner.
At the same time, the dream-like haze dissipated and the woman found herself inside a dark room, all alone.
The woman composed herself as well, straightening out her dress and picking the confirmation letter up before departing in the same, casual manner.
*****
"You look troubled, my Count. Are you perhaps troubled?" A girl's gentle voice resounded in the quiet study room.
The man looked a little hesitant but then replied regardless.
"A letter arrived yesterday." He paused. "From no one."
The girl waited. She had been taught that a properly kept silence loosened more than any question. There was also the fact that it was not uncommon for the Count to receive letters such as this, from anonymous sources, so she was not sure why this made him so troubled.
"The source is anonymous, the writer is anonymous, however, the implication, no matter how vague it is, is very clear. Despite how vague the implication is, if you were in my boots, you would instantly know who it is. But at the same time, I feel like that is exactly why this is a trap." The Count recalled his troubled thoughts and laid it out in front of the girl.
The girl crossed the room without hurry, her silky blonde hair bobbing a little. Once she was at the table, her pale fingers lifted the letter from the desk.
She read nothing or rather, appeared to read nothing. Her emerald eyes moved across the lines like light moving across water, revealing little of what laid beneath those gem-like beautiful eyes.
"That person has also sent some other documents, which may mean it's that same person. The confusing thing is that what he told me at that time and what's written in this letter are the same, but the story he has painted in these documents is totally different. Which, once again, doubles my doubt."
She set the letter down with the same unhurried grace with which she had lifted it with and for a little while longer she stayed there, speaking of some inconsequential things such as the weather, the book she had recently read, the bad quality air and so on.
Then she took her leave.
Once she was alone in her room, she reached out for the lamp and turned it off.
She undressed in the dark and lit the incense herself. The smoke rose in a slow coil as she stepped into the bath, the warm water closing around her body.
Inside this warm cocoon, she stayed very still.
When at last she rose and wrapped herself in her robe, her expression had settled into something unreadable. She folded her hands, closed her eyes and prayed.
She prayed, and prayed, mumbling words.
Though for what, or to whom, the "darkness" did not say.
*****
A middle-aged gentleman with white sideburns who had a thin angular face and blue eyes sat on his desk while clasping a pipe in his mouth. He was wearing casual clothes, however, even then, he looked extremely refined and sophisticated.
In front of him was a letter that he had read once. Setting it flat on his desk, he pressed two fingers to its surface and closed his eyes, activating "Scene Reconstruction."
After about forty seconds, the man opened his eyes.
'The writer is a male, right-handed and had set the letter down on a hard surface to write it such as a desk, or a windowsill, something at standing height. The pen pressure is absolutely uniform from the first word to the last, which means either the writer has extraordinary physical self-control or is constitutionally incapable of registering the emotional weight of what he was writing.
Possibly both, but that is what makes it strange. He has written this entire thing in under four minutes. While not uncommon, it is still indeed strange.
Seeing how the letter has greasy marks that have dried out and the smell of tobacco, possibly from the Rivermont Brand. This brand is mostly used by gang-members and other cut-throats due to its illegal tobacco content and the euphoria that comes with smoking it.
All of this points towards some gang, however, statistics dictate that none of the gang members are smart enough to write in such formal, and well-constructed manner. It's borderline calligraphy.'
The man was more impressed by the writer of the letter, than the contents. The man looked at the letter for a long moment without touching it, reading it once again.
The geographic analysis of the murder sites was the first thing that struck him. The reason it did faze him was because he had run similar numbers himself three weeks ago and arrived at a murkier version of the same conclusion.
The interval analysis was cleaner than anything he could have made himself. The writer had also identified a variable that the man had noticed but not weighed correctly.
He underlined that section once with his pen.
His gaze then moved to the letter again and noticed a name but did not react abnormally to it.
He pressed his fingers to the letter a second time and ran the Reconstruction again.
This time, he did not look for the writer's physical characteristics but rather pried for the writer's knowledge boundaries, such as what the writer knew, and crucially, what they had chosen not to include.
That was the most important part: What was absent from a letter like this was fundamentally as informative as what was present!
The man picked the letter up and crumpled it in his palms, reconstructing the sender's data in his brain while also comprehending the reconstructed contents.
Male.
Physically controlled to an unusual degree.
Intimate knowledge of Backlund's geography.
Analytical capability significantly above the standard investigative range.
It differentiated from the Church of God of Wisdom's doctrine, but his methods produced outputs that resembled them through a different underlying process.
Intimate access to information about high level individuals.
No financial motive.
No apparent personal motive.
Possibly no motive at all in the conventional sense.
Handwriting uniform from first word to last.
Written in under four minutes from memory without any kind of distress.
The man smirked and took a deep whiff from the tube before suddenly standing up. He moved his hands as a pillar of spirituality enveloped him. At the same time, while standing inside this pillar of spirituality, he burned the letter to ashes and then let it disperse in the cold air of approaching winters outside.
Once all of this was done, he changed into his formal clothes and boarded an empty carriage.
Reaching out to the driver, he whispered.
"Minsk Street, please." The man spoke politely.
*****
Author's Note: Back with the milk. God this chapter was boring and exhausting to write. The reason why it was boring is because I was more excited to write the chapter after this one. Since it involves battles, powers and all of the plans and strings that Kiyotaka had been pulling coming to light.
GRAH!
But well, all things should take their intended time. That is the single most vital requirement of a Reasonable Development.
Well, that said, I shall take my leave now and I will see you all in the next chapter.
Tschüß 🧐