First thing upon returning to the safehouse, Krahe questioned Casus on the matter of Seer.
"I had expected you to ask sooner. We had him checked over, as promised. The grafter found widespread modifications to the ocular module, as well as extraordinarily precise repairs carried out to mitigate damage to his brain and material soul. According to Seer, all of his grafting work was carried out by an apostate grafter in the Hashems' employ. An extremist who, by his own admittance, lives and works with baneworms to better devise ways to exterminate them without triggering a polyphemic reaction. He also claims that he can track Semzar thanks to the modifications made by this grafter, supposedly as a way of subverting his own employer out of spite."
As he spoke, a mirthful tone bled into Casus' words, and a faint smirk formed on his lips.
"And?" Krahe asked.
"We have to wait," he shrugged. "His description lined up with certain restricted records of apostate grafters, so they're calling in an inquisitor who happens to be operating in this region to confirm his testimony."
Rather than dwell on the matter, Krahe raised her legs and hopped out of her seat, walking to the kitchen. She decided to finish off a tortoise steak she had leftover. No complicated cookery, just salt and "Powder No. 7", a spice mix that she had learned was preferred over ground peppercorn for meat. Its flavour and complexity put white and black pepper to shame. She seared the marbled slab of meat on both sides using an iron pan with clarified butter, and then sautéd a chopped up vegetable as a side. It was an alien root vegetable, but its culinary role was adjacent to broccoli.
With her sole proper meal for the day, she returned to the living room and decided to regale Casus with a description of the muscle-woman's Mamon Coupler sabre.
This topic naturally led into the matter of Tsetse's torn-off arm... And Casus' excitement grew serious.
"My acquaintance says he thought it was a construct at first, due to how rapidly it decayed, but placing it into a preservation tank halted any decay. Regenerative agents also functioned normally. However... It is not true flesh."
At Krahe's raised eyebrows, he continued: "It appears to exist within the same grey area as Mamon Armor. Not quite a full construct, but not quite permanent matter. The difference is that Tsetse's arm is much closer to permanence than anything generated by a Mamon Armor, except for the sonic blaster array, which is within normal Mamon Armor parameters..."
He trailed off, waiting for her to guess the reason. It was obvious, but she had a mouth full of turtle meat, and she absolutely wouldn't choke down this ambrosia of the gods unchewed. It was at once incredibly rich and filling, yet light enough that she could eat a monolithic hunk of the stuff without it feeling like a heavy meal. Beef didn't even compete.
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Weathering the banisher's patient gaze, Krahe savoured chewing the meat properly and flushing it down with a sip of ekarone juice.
Then, she stated her hypothesis: "So Tsetse's body is some sort of imitation war-morph, perhaps an evoy innovation on the principles behind Mamon Armor."
"Exactly!" Casus exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. It was as loud as a firecracker.
"Show me your hand for a moment," she asked, and Casus eagerly obliged. It was as she had suspected. The shade of his muscles was much lighter, and the layout had been altered. The blackveins didn't protrude anymore, and he now had alarite studs as knuckles and fingertips.
"L-Sixes for the full arm and alarite joint reinforcement, huh?" she muttered with a half-full mouth.
"A full alarite secondary endoskeleton, in fact. I was intended to receive it to begin with, but it has special anchors that only interface correctly with the L-Six cultured fibres. They double as blackvein connections, meaning that my arm is truly monolithic now. Anything powerful enough to render it inoperable will also kill me in one hit."
"So it was an all or nothing high-spec package," Krahe thought aloud, marvelling over the arm.
"Precisely," Casus agreed. Letting his vanity take over, he more than happily displayed the graft-limb from every possible angle, even doffing his shirt just to show how it was joined to the rest of him. It truly was a work of art. Neither of them thought any more of this, despite how it may have looked to a purely theoretical third party observer.
Compared to everything surrounding Sorayah, dealing with Eutropia was a fresh change of pace.
To begin with, Krahe had managed to dig up some more information on the woman by paying Nozar another visit. She was conspicuously left alone this go round, with the evoy building's inhabitants peeking out curiously only to slam their doors shut at the sight of her. Nozar didn't have much on her, but he did have some interesting info, such as the fact she was a disfavoured eighth daughter of some Afshani merchant clan. She was an E1-rank contractor, but Nozar noted that there was something fishy about her CQF record.
"Gut feeling - I'd say she's more of an F3," the flyman guessed. This info wasn't nearly so expensive as what he had on Yao, but it was still pricy. At least she was able to pay him in cash this go 'round.
Killing Eutropia wasn't her primary goal, despite Garvesh's request, and despite the fact Eutropia had wronged her personally by killing a street vendor she liked. The reason was the same as the reason she didn't go after Jezail: Eutropia was just the hand that held the knife. If she wanted to get proper revenge, she would have to extract the identity of Eutropia's employer and come after them. Her anger was, in the same way, directed in Eutropia's direction because she happened to be a stepping stone between Krahe and whomever had paid to have Imraal killed. She had her own guesses, of course - it was more likely than not Semzar - but she wanted to be sure.
Krahe didn't know what made hired killers less guilty in her eyes than normal murderers, and she frankly didn't dwell on it, because she knew that, like many other avenues of introspection, it would only lead her to the conclusion that Megacity Gamma had left her sense of morality irrevocably distorted.