A door to a downstairs basement unlocked loudly, creaking eerily as a putrid stench invaded the newcomer's nose. Looking around before he entered, all the man saw was a destroyed first floor. A portion of the ceiling was destroyed and allowed for easy access into the home.
'Looks like everything here got picked clean. And nobody even bothered trying to open this door.'
Quiet footsteps echoed as he descended the steps in a measured manner. Whistling a small tune as the smell of death and decay got stronger. A regular person would've been dry-heaving at this point, but the only show of discomfort the intruder made was the fact he breathed manually through his mouth.
An oil lamp the size of his palm grew bright enough to illuminate the path ahead of him and then some.
Taking a peek into the nearest corridor, he quickly confirmed no presence inside and moved on without a word. He repeated the act for each room until the last one, where a silhouette could be seen in the darkness. It was dim, and he took a step forward to only see a grizzly sight.
A large, heavy-set man knelt over the remnants of another human, covered in blood and various bodily fluids. By his bloodshot eyes and deathly state, the newcomer assumed he had been trapped here for at least a week; unable to escape due to the fact his legs and arms were broken and bound in chains.
"Yeesh, that's Gello? Fits the description from what I've been told." The man stepped closer and investigated the scene with dull interest. His eyes glazed over the scene, trying to piece together what happened. "Looks like he got his arms and legs broken and it didn't heal properly 'cause of how tight the chains were. Tough way to die."
As soon as he said that, the chained man's body lurched over and came back to life. His dull eyes were unfocused, but Gello managed to turn his head and speak in a wheezy, fragile voice. The sudden movement made the man's hands twitch towards his blades sheathed under his baggy clothing.
"H-help me...Water..."
"Tut, tut, tut. Tell me what happened here first. Who got you and...Cozbi? Izzat' right? I need answers."
"I-I..." Gello struggled to put his words together as if every attempt to speak took significant amounts of energy. "..ate him. No food. N-no drink. Had to."
Glancing closer at the corpse of his fellow kidnapper, it was clear it had been feasted on. Bite marks and signs of struggle were visible on Cozbi's body. His death was not an easy one by any means.
The man rolled his eyes and gave him a kick in the stomach, making Gello lurch forward in pain. "Yeah, yeah. That's all well and all. But who did this?"
"Two people...One man and a boy. T-they were wearing black? Or...I-I don't know. Please. Water."
For a brief moment, the man contemplated just killing the chained man and putting him out of his misery. It was unlikely he'd be in a state to answer any further questions without wasting valuable items like healing potions on the dying captive.
"A job's a job, I suppose. You can explain yourself to the boss."
Shuffling through his small pack, the man retrieved a flask with a rounded bottom, filled with a potent red liquid.
'I'll ask if I can get reimbursed. This shit is the expensive stuff.'
Without any further words, he grabbed the man's jaw and jammed the red potion into his mouth. Almost immediately, Gello screamed in pain as his bones tried to mend themselves together only to be stopped by the chains binding his entire body. This forceful reconstruction elicited agonizing levels of pain from the gravely injured kidnapper.
"...Oops. Should've thought that one through. Argh! Fuck! Don't get blood on me, you stupid bastard!"
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Meanwhile, in the heart of the Twilight Bandits' territory, a certain vampire roamed the area. He had discarded his robe in favor of one bearing the Twilight Bandits' symbol. Due to the fact it was secondhand, the robe smelled funny and made him breathe through his mouth whenever possible.
It was several minutes away from the street market but still regarded as part of Strofil South. Considering the amount of territory wielded by only two elites from the criminal organization, it was safe to say the Twilight Bandits held enough land to rival that of a major kingdom.
Damien was led away by the three thugs, all of whom looked worse for wear. Interacting with the teen resulted in various beatings and threats. Despite the treatment, none of them dared to say a word or resist. They stopped in front of a certain building which stood a few stories taller than anything he'd seen so far. It seemed much more well-maintained.
"Hey, sir. Haven't you already seen Orcsbane and Rotfoot? Why do you need us to lead you back here?" Lucas, the bald delinquent that the vampire viewed as the leader of the group said.
"Haa-?! I see you haven't learned anything still. What did I tell you about asking questions you don't want the answer to? Just shut your mouth and lead me in already."
The vampire's eyes gleamed and he raised his voice harshly. Like learned memory, the trio shook like beaten dogs upon hearing him yell. But surprisingly, they stood their ground.
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"W-we can't take you any further! Going in the building without permission will only get us killed!"
"Then how do you give them the money you collect then? You just toss it up into the window up above?" Damien said, pointing at the top floor where a large picture window could be seen. It was a large display, taking up two-thirds of the wall. Unfortunately, it was obscured by a velvet curtain and he couldn't peer within.
"There's a hatch on the door! See?"
Damien glanced down to where Lucas was pointing and noticed where a large, wooden double door reinforced with metal stood. It was built for a giant; nearing three meters in height and two meters in width. At the halfway point, one could see a mail slot wide enough to fit even a small child into it.
"Tch. Go. Tell them to let me in."
The men all shook their heads and a vein bulged on the vampire noble's neck. He inwardly told himself to calm down, getting too immersed in his persona which he dubbed as 'Chester-like' in honor of his illusionist companion.
"They won't let us in! The only ones they'll even bother with are enforcers! We'll just bother them and piss off Orcsbane! You haven't seen what he did to poor Al'!"
When the men he beat into submission were refusing with all their might, it showed just how terrified they were of their superiors. What sort of monsters they were, Damien couldn't imagine. All he had heard about the two who ran this section of the Twilight Bandits' territory was that they were drug users who exploited the common people for profit to satisfy themselves.
Narrowing his eyes, Damien walked towards the door and knocked firmly. He glared at the three gangsters who tried to walk away from the situation as if telling them to stay put.
Nothing but silence greeted his knocking. Trying again, but significantly louder, all the nearby residents walked away quickly upon seeing someone cause a stir in front of Orcsbane and Rotfoot's place of residence. They all knew nothing good would come out of getting involved.
"M-maybe they're still sleeping?"
"Is that so?" Damien muttered. He knew gathering so much attention would be dangerous for those around him, but he was confident in his ability to lay low afterward.
'I don't plan on going back to where the orphan children were staying, so they won't get dragged in. I just need to focus on doing my job.'
"I hope they won't mind an 'enforcer' coming into here and asking for some information. Right?"
"Huh?"
Damien's gauntleted fist broke through the reinforced wooden door. He punched his entire arm through with ease. Looking around, he grabbed a hold of the bolt that locked the doors in place, allowing him easy access within. The horrified thugs looked at the teen who entered their superior's home so brazenly
He had initially considered a sneakier method of simply trying to fit through the mail slot, but knew it'd be near impossible without taking off his armor. And even then, he wasn't sure he would fit in thanks to his significant muscle mass.
Trudging through the massive building, he quickly realized it was far from normal. For starters, the ceiling was much higher than anticipated. He assumed the place had three or four floors, but if every level was the same height as the first one it could only accommodate two floors at the absolute most.
A massive table and kitchen customized for taller people were present on the first floor. Where regular countertops would've been at waist level or lower, these ones were up to Damien's chin. The place was sloppy and clumsily cleaned. It even held a pungent, earthy odor that seeped into the very walls.
'I mean, I did hear they were part giant. Wouldn't make sense for them to fit in a regular-sized home. What's that smell?'
Various goods and trinkets were laying haphazardly on the table, and Damien resisted the urge to swipe them for a brief moment. Bags of coins, likely collected fees from the residents in the area, spilled slightly and revealed two dozen silver coins. The fact that he was tempted to steal a bag of coins made the vampire very concerned.
"What the hell, I was never like this before...That damn thief is getting to me too and I didn't even realize it."
His sword and shield were secured under his hood. Damien didn't come without exercising the proper precautions. He went up the stairs, vigilant and ready for a confrontation at a moment's notice.
The second floor was a mess. It was a pigsty, Trash and clothes were scattered all over the floor. But amongst the garbage heaps and pungent orders, two massive bodies could be seen poking out like a sore thumb. Their chests went up and down rhythmically as they slept without a care in the world. As Damien stepped atop a garbage heap to gain a vantage point, he realized the giants were laying on two gargantuan mattresses on the floor.
The one in closest proximity to Damien stood almost three meters tall, and a bulky man with a portly belly. His hairy chest and arms were like a perilous jungle, covered in crumbs and dust. His face was strangely handsome regardless of his unkempt beard and curly hair. Even the largest man he had seen in recent memory, Arber Fistpig, was nowhere near in size. From what he could estimate, Damien believed he weighed close to a ton and admired how the floors didn't fall apart in the man's day-to-day life.
A bit further away, another giant was sprawled out, belly-facing down on the bed. He was much leaner than the other giant, but still maintained a frightening amount of mass that could be seen just from the way the mattress sank in response to the weight. They boasted similarities that made them look like siblings, and couldn't tell who was who from appearance alone. Until Damien's eyes glanced over at the second giant's feet.
They were horrible. Disgusting to look at. It looked closer in texture to tree bark than human skin. Blisters and cracked skin were visible even from a distance, and the gnarled toenails made Damien grimace.
'I'm assuming that one is Rotfoot then.'
Seeing them continue to sleep despite the noise made the vampire teen think about his next step. Would he approach the men with intimidation or cooperation? Deciding against utilizing force after being in his 'Chester-like' persona, the boy took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Taking several steps to where he assumed Orcsbane slept, he crouched slightly to tap the man on his shoulder.
"Oi, excuse me."
The breathing sounds halted and the bulky giant slowly began to open his eyes. Orcsbane blinked blearily as he comprehended the youthful face staring down at him impassively. They held eye-contact for a few seconds as consciousness returned to the homeowner's house.
"I need to talk to you abou-"
Orcsbane raised his fist and swung it in a haphazard manner. It didn't even take two seconds for his gigantic fist to wallop the boy with the full expectation of sending him flying across the room.
Instead, his hand stopped at the boy's shoulder, almost as though he tried to punch a thick, steel, wall. Damien didn't budge, despite the sheer force of the blow having raised up a wind that rustled the trash laying around the house. The boy's hair fluttered before settling down and he resumed talking as though nothing happened.
Unbeknownst to Orcsbane, under the robe bearing the Twilight Bandit's insignia laid a certain shield that was placed perfectly where the punch had landed. All Damien did was drop his shoulder in order to block the surprise blow. It boasted otherworldly durability surpassing adamantium, the strongest magic metal available commercially.
Gravite Shield of the Immortal
- Forged from the mythical metal Gravite, this shield is unbreakable and impossibly hard. Crafted by a legendary blacksmith, the shield has a small chance of developing an ego. Its anti-magic properties make enchanting it nearly impossible.
- The tempered exterior nullifies all forms of magical attacks. All elemental attacks, not including creation magic, are rendered useless before this artifact.
- Immensely reduces damage from piercing, cutting, and bludgeoning attacks.
- Nullifies critical hits. Damage below a certain point is ignored completely.
- Weight: 20kg
Combined with the Juggernaut Armor designed to disperse kinetic energy away from the user, it truly seemed as though the boy withstood a punch from a part-giant without even blocking it. Orcsbane's eyes widened in disbelief.
"As I was saying, I'd like your help in searching for a certain person's whereabouts," Damien said with a smile. But it held a tinge of frost. He wasn't the sort to take kindly when being punched. "May I have your cooperation? Or will I have to force it out of you?"