Even instantaneous reaction could not defy the physics, so just a slight misstep had caused the delay. After a moment of confusion, I formed several short spikes under my soles and with improved traction dashed to Bob. Meanwhile, Bob’s lively curses pointed at the possibility that the asanbosam anatomy did not include a kidney or stomach like humans do below their right ribs. I could also confirm that his energy showed no signs of weakening at all, despite a deep penetrating wound.

In passing, I grabbed Bob by the scruff of his leather jacket and continued moving, while dragging him across the leaf-strewn ground. As I hunched to compensate for the shift in balance, I asked in low voice if it was okay to pull out the machete. I was aware that pulling out objects from the wounds is frowned upon by medics, but the blade was now proudly sticking out of his back like some goddamn kebab skewer- IT was not only enlarging the wound with each bump and shake, but also did not let Bob to tense his muscles in order to stand up.

“Uh, ah, yes, pull it out! Pffft, ouh, please, sir!” - he hissed, struggling to avoid gathering all the mud and debris into his mouth. He even managed to keep safe the bag I had entrusted to him. I spared a moment to yank out the blade from his back, and slid it through the thin loop which I had quickly formed on my hip armor. It was getting more and more easier to manipulate such details of my armor and weapon, that was a proof that my control skill was progressing satisfactorily.

In just a few seconds, we reached the cover that led into the communications tunnel that we had used to get here several hours ago. Unsurprisingly, there stood a redcap on the lookout. He barely managed to raise his machete when my fist knocked into his face. And again - redcaps were sturdy and refused to pass out. I was unsure about the needed force, so I preferred to play it safe, gradually increasing the strength. On the fourth blow, the redcap finally fell unconscious.

Bob could finally stand up, but remained in his revealed asanbosam shape. He spat out some gravel that had ended up between his teeth and spared a dirty look at the captured redcap before I nudged him to show the way.

---

I took my bag and bundle, leaving the redcap to Bob. He moved swiftly through the tunnels, not caring much about the prisoner who kept bumping into the walls and corners. I flinched as Bob almost spitefully knocked the back of the redcap’s head against a piece of steel beam. I said: “I won’t get anything out of him if you turn him into an idiot, you know.”.

“Sorry. Sir.” - huffed Bob and adjusted his grip.

After a while, we got out of the tunnels and returned to the surface. The broken street lights and peculiar smell of stale waste hinted that we were back in less savoury neighbourhood. We crossed a few streets and turned some corners before we ended up in some sort of improvised car parking/warehouse combination.

Bob went to an old, refurbished shipping container and took out a key hidden behind an old bicycle nearby. He used it to open the door and even switched on the lights. Inside, was a narrow and somewhat cluttered, but at least private space with electricity.

I looked in, saw a small table and chair at the far end and a sofa with some more shabby chairs randomly squeezed in. By the walls were laid out plastic boxes with unknown contents I preferred to not know about. I stepped in, and sat by the table. I pulled out the tech from the bag and confirmed it was undamaged. While I was setting up the laptop, I looked over my shoulder and said to Bob: “They were talking about some market, I think.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Yess.” - Bob confirmed.

“And unless I misunderstood their Scots, they wanted to sell you as a curiosity?” - I wanted to verify my suspicions.

“Yesss!” - Bob was grinding his teeth with audible noise and kicked the redcap which laid on the ground.

I tried my best to sound slightly bored: “Okay. Get me where and when it is going to happen.”, then elaborated, trying to act like a boss: “They dared to attack us, I dislike that, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” - Bob’s mood clearly improved.

I was not going to tell him that I did not care much about gangs and revenge and whatever. I had several different objectives, and the redcap was a key to achieve these.

First, to find more… connected contacts in supernatural circles. That could be considered as vital because of the approaching changes.

Second was to find Eala. She had to appear somewhere on Earth, and if Murphy’s law was real, she was bound to end up somewhere nasty. And considering my experiences, I was ready to admit that the Fate or the Norns or whatever might be real as well, so following any leads would be a sensible thing to do. That is, just in case.

---

I turned my attention back towards the laptop. Behind me, Bob quickly bandaged his wounds using a first-aid kit he took from one of the boxes and fixed the trophy redcap to one of the chairs by using a copious amount of duct tape and zip ties. I specifically made my perception to bypass the subsequent activities, but muffled grunts, smacks and cracks could not be suppressed.

Meanwhile, I used the Almighty Internet to search some information. My only local acquaintance with power was the rabbi from special forces. Aitan Es, was his name? A quick Google search confirmed that he was actually a member of Qahal Kadosh Sha'ar ha-Shamayim, commonly known as Bevis Marks Synagogue in the City of London, not far from Whitechapel.

Before I got engrossed into reading about the history of the oldest synagogue in United Kingdom, I noted that they even had their own blog and social media accounts, where Rabbi Es was actively participating. And most important, according to the public information there, he was routinely taking part in Shabbat activities there on most Saturdays. I checked the calendar - it was still Tuesday, too long to wait until Saturday. Still, knowing the location was good enough for me. Corner of my lips curved in a slight smile as a plan formed in my mind.

“Sir, I got info you asked.” - came Bob’s voice from behind.

I nodded: “Good. Make sure he doesn’t hide anything about the entry and rules. Then… do what you want.”

“Yes. Thank you, sir.” - Bob literally hissed. Ripping and gurgling sounds dominated the silence for a while. I slightly shook my head - however uneasy I was feeling, it was the only way I had come up with which allowed me to maintain my dominance and reduce the risks in my current situation. Bob and redcaps had already shown me that the law of the jungle dominated the shady part of the society. At least, I could understand and deal with it thanks to my changed mindset.

---

It was still several hours until daybreak. I found an old notebook and wrote down some contact addresses and phone numbers Bob and his gang had. Then, I carefully recorded everything Bob had learned from the redcap. Bob also unearthed a solid looking travel case that was big enough to hold my things. Before offering it to me, he shook out of it a heap of assorted junk that I hazily recognized as gun parts.

After I had packed my stuff, I threw several heavy gem-encrusted gold rings to Bob. “These may be worth more than just stones and metal.” - I thought for a moment, then decided to continue: “ You did alright, so hear my advice: make a base, secure it, stock up on everything you can. Oh, and try to get out of that gang business.”

“Sir…?” - Bob seemed to be confused as he caught the rings: “Just tell me, and I get the boys where you need us.”

I shook my head: “No, Bob. You need to deal with what had happened here. Listen, do what I said. If you do well, it will help me and you both. Oh, by the way, get medicines, get your people off the drugs and booze. Now, half of your guys are shit. If you don’t want to lose them all, whip them into shape.”. I opened the door and stepped out: “Byes.”