Keith Orland was the son of the current leader of Strata. He was a young, dashing man, with ear-length, dazzling golden hair, and eyes as green as marsh in the warm summer. His nose was hooked with an appealing, masculine bridge, his wide mouth usually rested in a pleasant smile, and his cheekbones protruded, giving him a shapely, hard face.

Around a month ago, completely out of the blue, he had stumbled into one of the best deals he’d ever had in his life. A stranger who went by “Skull” gave him an offer he wouldn’t have refused even if he knew it would undoubtedly come with a catch.

Ever since then, every single week, with practically no additional work whatsoever, millions of dollars would fall into his lap, and his relationship with the local adjudicator became that much better.

But it was bothering him.

With every passing day, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind got stronger.

Who exactly was this “Skull” guy? What did he want? Why did he do business through Keith? They weren’t trading penny stocks—this was a huge deal. And that money was going somewhere. Funding something. And the more time passed, the greater that pile of money became.

Every weekend, he had the urge to cut the deal and bring this to an end.

And yet, every weekend, his eyes flashed with dollar signs, and he simply couldn't help himself. The offer was just too tempting.

But then the killings began. Rumors of deaths not too unlike the death of one of their doctors started spreading. Brutal killings, clearly with some sort of message behind them. Horrible killings, with not even the tiniest of clues as to who had done it or how. Recording devices mysteriously broke down. There were zero signs of breaking and entering. Not a single shred of evidence that anyone was even there.

And yet those people were all dead. Some were even two-stars. One was a peak two-star.

Since then, he hadn’t been sleeping properly. He hadn’t been eating properly. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to go out and have some fun. The paranoia had crept in and it was making itself comfortable.

This was why he found himself walking to a certain location in the dead of night, doing something he’d usually never do in his life.

He got a message earlier that day.

WE HAVE INFORMATION ON SKULL YOU MIGHT WANT TO HEAR. MEET US AT—and it detailed the location. It was a suspicious, unverified message that could very well lead him right into a trap by a competitor.

But just like the deals he kept making week after week, this offer was, too, far too appealing to refuse.

He approached an old pub and stepped inside. The regulars all gave him strange looks.

The bartender immediately spotted him and nodded, pointing a thumb over his back, directing him to a door.

He nodded at the man and walked past him.

There, he maneuvered through a maze of corridors, moving up and down the stairs, going left and right down narrow, decrepit halls. Until finally, he started hearing the music. Tucked deep within a residential complex was a secret club. And as he finally walked through the door and entered it, he immediately knew why it was a secret.

The music blasted at an ear-rending volume. The people danced and thrashed, clearly not sober and clearly not on just booze. Clothes were plentiful, just not on the people dancing there. He walked forward, stepping around a wet pair of panties and a pile of jeans.

“Hey, handsome,” a woman practically screamed at him as he drunkenly grabbed his collar, trying to drag him away to the side. He slapped her and gave her a push, making her tumble to the ground and hit a man in his leg.

The man reacted with immediate and extreme violence, kicking her in the head with his knee. Three other people joined him in kicking the woman on the ground, even well past the point she had already stopped moving.

He scoffed and spat on the ground. “Disgusting.”

He spotted a waiter, who immediately recognized him and gestured his head, beckoning him to follow. After making it away from the crowds, he finally stepped into the private section of the club. There was a small corridor with a number of doors. He walked to the seventh on the left and stepped in.

There was nobody there yet.

It was a small, private booth, with enough space for ten people to sit side by side, and even a good deal of empty space if they wanted to dance. There was a bucket of ice, with a number of unopened drinks sitting on the table. Glasses rested upside down, arranged atop fancy paper towels. The music was also turned up to the maximum volume, but there was a dial on the wall, one that he cranked as far down as it would go.

He took off his jacket and made himself comfortable. Well, he was hardly able to relax. He grabbed a bottle of vodka, using his nature affinity to check it for poisons. It was pure. He unscrewed the bottle and took a large sip. “This is trash…”

He anxiously waited, feeling the pit in his stomach deepen with every second that passed. It only took a few minutes for the doors to open. He raised his guard up as he watched the two people walk inside.

He scoffed as he recognized them and his eyes narrowed. Heh. The Gems, huh?

His two visitors were Gina and Tanner Gem, the remaining two direct descendants of the Gem family.

While Tanner looked like the average asshole, with his smug chin and black hair scattered with white locks, Gina’s soulless eyes unnerved him. Her hair was also black, reaching as low as her hips, and even covering a part of her face.

“So it’s you two,” he said, resisting the urge to sneer. He took a sip of vodka. “That’s just great. I was hoping someone of some actual damn importance sent that, but alas.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Still as sharp-tongued as ever, I see,” Gina commented with a lifeless smirk. “Been a while.”

“Hello,” her brother added nothing of value, as usual. “Nice to see that you actually showed up.”

The two of them made themselves comfortable on the other side of the table.

“Hmph.” Keith scratched his chin as he stared them down. “I heard you guys have information about a certain ‘Skull’?”

Gina smiled. “Yes. We have quite a few things to tell you about your client.”

“Heh. Charming. I really hope this isn’t just going to be you two trying to get me to abandon my deal. I’m not killing a golden goose just because you two brats don’t like what I’m doing.”

“But you did show up,” Tanner said with a serious expression. “You have to already know that something is off about your ‘client.’”

Keith was going to retort, but that was exactly the case. “Alright. I’ve answered your call. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Gina pulled a bundle of papers from her storage ring and threw it right before him. He eyed it and immediately recognized what it was. “I’m not that out of the loop. I know about the killings,” he said. The papers before him were detailed reports on all the high-profile assassinations.

“Just take a look at it,” Tanner insisted.

He sighed and picked it up, flipping the papers. He noticed notes. Detailed notes, mostly referencing and connecting different events. “What?” he asked with a scowl as he failed to make heads from tails from what he was seeing.

“Have you heard of the name ‘Slave?’” Gina asked.

He nodded slowly. “Slave. Yeah, I know who that guy is.” He smirked. “The newest patient at the mad house in the woods. Why are you bringing him up?”

Gina adopted a severe expression. “We have a solid reason to believe that there is a secret organisation working in the shadows with the goal of overthrowing all the local factions.”

He froze with a disbelieving grin on his face. “You’re kidding, right?”

They stared at him.

“Seriously? Aren’t you two too old to be doing this?”

Tanner frowned. “While it sounds a bit silly, there is a lot of evidence pointing at this fact.”

“Well all I’m seeing here is a bunch of nonsense,” he said as he slammed the papers down. “Why don’t you guide me through it?”

“It all started with the death of Jason, our brother.”

“Jason?” Keith scowled. “Didn’t that prick die to a wild spirit? Oh, and no offense. But I doubt even you two miss that asshole.”

Tanner ignored him as he continued, “From the very beginning, we knew that it likely wasn’t a wild spirit attack. It was just too strange. But now that we know of the existence of someone who has a pet spirit, well…”

Keith swallowed. “Skull… You think he’s the one who did him in?”

“We don’t know,” Gina said. “Our brother had been up to something suspicious that day. He kept no formal records of it. A few servants saw him go outside in a rush after finishing his work. There was also an attack on one of our businesses. The circumstances were bizarre. A violent brawl had gone down, yet there wasn’t a single body there, and there were no witnesses. At first, none of this made any sense, but with time, we started piecing things together.

Tanner cut in, “The first clue was the appearance of ‘Slave’ and his connection to Valhalla.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Keith. “Shawn had interacted with this man during a Fortress Dungeon run. He reported that the man had sacrificed a number of internal organs to maximize the benefits of an Unholy Blessing. According to our brother, the odds of survival after doing this were nonexistent.”

Gina added, “But not only did the man survive, he also seemed to be perfectly fine, as if nothing had happened. This was bizarre, but then, one day, a sudden explanation for it appeared.”

Tanner cut in again, “What if there was someone who was not just an expert at healing but also a master at cultivating replacement organs?”

Keith’s eyes widened slightly. He began sweating. “You mean Skull?”

“Bingo,” Gina said. “But that didn’t quite click until the killings began.”

Tanner growled. “Our other brother had vanished into thin air. Just like the people at one of our businesses. This was targeted, one hundred percent. It was likely that our brother had discovered something, possibly relating to Slave, who had just happened to be at the Fortress Dungeon during our brother’s disappearance, which is an airtight alibi, but it’s also just a little too convenient. He could have known that our brother would vanish and wanted to make sure it couldn’t be tied to him.”

Gina sighed. “Our father had noticed these strange happenings, and even without all the evidence, he was pissed enough to hire a Three-Headed Snake squad to go after Slave. The guy was a member of Valhalla anyway, so killing him was a solid move in any case.”

“But would you look at that!” Tanner said with a dark chuckle. “Not only does Slave survive, he wipes the whole squad, and not just that, but something weird happens to the dungeon. We still don’t know what happened there, but it’s clear the guy has his secrets.”

“Then walks in Skull,” Gina said. “Very shortly after the assassination of one of your doctors, too.”

Keith gulped.

“Think about it,” Tanner said. “Skull saves Slave from certain death. This ‘Vanisher’ guy helps Skull with his dirty work. That’s already tied them all together, and not only that but they’re all connected to Valhalla.” He tapped the side of his head.

Gina added, “It’s rumored that Slave and Thor are good friends.”

“Not just good friends,” Tanner corrected, “but really good friends. Our insiders from Valhalla are claiming that Thor had completely thrown Mad Dog aside in favor of pouring all his resources into Slave, it’s total madness! People are pissed, and yet he isn’t even letting Slave out on runs with them. It's important to keep in mind, this Slave guy is dangerous. Proper dangerous. There’s rumors that he had killed two three-stars, and that was while single-handedly pushing through at least a dozen two-stars.”

Gina raised her hand. “Let’s also not forget what happened with the Fortress Dungeon. Some are speculating that this can only happen after all the waves have been cleared. Which would suggest that Slave had somehow beaten the whole dungeon all by himself.”

“He wasn’t alone,” Tanner reminded. “There was that mysterious other person who nearly died in there. But still, the point stands.”

“Okay, I get it,” Keith said, already visibly sweating. “So what are you trying to say?”

Tanner raised his hand, showing three fingers, then started counting. “Skull. Slave. Vanisher. These are just the three we know of. There could be more. All three of them have incredible power, and they’re all clearly in cahoots with Valhalla—Thor specifically, who we’ve known for years to be the single biggest threat to our survival in this city. And you’re doing business with them. Business, from what we’ve heard, worth millions upon millions of dollars.”

Keith nearly yelped. “Millions…? Hahaha…” His breathing was ragged, and he wiped his palms on his jeans in a panic. “Fuck.”

Gina leaned forward. “We know we can’t force you to do this, but I think you should already know it would be wise to cut your losses and stop acting as a proxy for Skull.”

“You think I can do that!? The adjudicator is on the other end of this deal!”

The two of them gasped and reeled in shock.

He grinned maniacally. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Exactly. You think he’s going to be happy that I’m getting in the way of his profits!? Worse, what if he decides to do business directly with Skull instead!? Oh, shit, I’m cooked! You have no idea how bad this is… That man keeps calling me all the time asking if I got any more. If these guys get an in with the adjudicator, we’re screwed!”

Tanner and Gina reluctantly looked at each other. They immediately knew what they were both thinking. They nodded.

It was time to take this to Father