The Good and the Just is with me.

Marcus Aurelius

Aksinya waited some distance away and watched him with a fixed gaze, shifting from one foot to the other to better endure the cold. Then she pulled her cloak tighter around her and chewed nervously on her lower lip as the cold wind blew unpleasantly in her face, stirring up the freshly fallen snowflakes on the ground. The slums were sparsely lit at night, unlike the rest of Neo Yakutsk. The large sign above the entrance to the building across the street was illuminated by a flickering spotlight, its irregularities accompanied by an electrical crackle. It was the only source of light in the immediate area, but enough to make out the figure of her companion, who approached his destination with a slightly springy stride. The last few days had given him the time he needed to recover. The foot injury he had suffered while fleeing from a pack of wolves, was no longer noticeable.

Had this really been a good idea? Couldn't there have been another possibility, if only they had searched longer? Of course, Aksinya knew that Sergey had not wanted to waste any time. He had urged her to exhaust all her contacts with the Rats, as they called the slum dwellers in this city. The trail to his brother Artyom - or rather to this creepy monstrosity that seemed to resemble him exactly - could quickly fade into nothingness. No one could know what the military was up to and for what purpose this thing had been created. On the one hand, she trusted Sergey's feelings, who really believed that he felt his brother. She trusted his deepest conviction that Artyom was still alive. On the other hand, she still had her doubts, ever since they had both come face to face with that man in the unfamiliar black uniform. A bulky giant with a skin of rubber, he moved strangely jerky and unnatural. With empty, dead eyes and no human emotion in his features. He hadn't recognized Sergey and had only paused for a brief moment when they had crossed paths in the barracks. And yet that one moment had been enough for the hunter, who had come from so far, to retain a spark of hope. Hope to learn the truth. Hope not to lose forever a part of his family that was so dear to him. Aksinya imperceptibly shook her head as Sergey reached the entrance.

"This is not going to end well..." she murmured, then added almost tonelessly, "Please be careful. I have nothing else. Only you." She was right, she was alone. Her parents were nowhere to be found after the years of her absence in the captivity of the Eternal Wolves. Their tracks had been lost forever in the maze of streets and alleys of this inhospitable place. There was nothing left for her to return to.

Sergey pulled aside the thick, brown leather curtain that was attached to the entrance in the absence of a door and entered the large, dilapidated building. It was gloomy inside, the air smelled stale and musty, a mixture of cigarette smoke and pungent alcohol hit him like a wall. So this was it, the so-called Tavern. A notorious meeting place for various regulars and wheeler-dealers, whom one would not want to meet under normal circumstances. Sergey knew that he only had a real chance of success if he was quick, if he acted swiftly. If he could use his element of surprise. He could not allow himself any doubt, even though it gnawed at him deep inside. But now he was here and there was no turning back. He had chosen this path and he would follow it.

The tavern was busy at this time of day, and no one had noticed him yet. Mostly larger groups were gathered around the round tables, talking, drinking, and consuming all manner of tobacco and stimulants. The music was turned down remarkably low for such a place, but still loud enough to make it impossible to understand what was being said at the next table. That was probably what the patrons were looking for. To be hidden while being out in the open. Sergey looked around. His client had not promised too much. The shady representatives of various underworld groups had gathered here and were discussing whatever there was to discuss. Among them were scantily clad prostitutes and other girls who obviously were not there by choice. At one of the tables, two young ladies caught his eye, wearing a metal ring with a chain around their necks, just like Aksinya had until recently. Sergey closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath to calm himself. He had to stay alert, keep a cool head, not let his emotions and growing hatred get the better of him. Then he found what he was looking for. The description matched exactly. A man in a worn camouflage jacket and glasses with large dark lenses. Moustache, scar on his forehead, hair dyed turquoise and shaved on the left side of his head, shoulder length on the right. His appearance was striking enough to make confusion highly unlikely. The man was talking to a heavily made-up girl, probably one of the tavern's entertainers, judging by her extremely short skirt and high-heeled white leather boots. She moved slightly lasciviously to the rhythm of the music as she listened to his words, her smile exaggerated. Sergey began to move again, heading straight for them. The hunter had spotted his prey and was now trying to take in every last detail. The man swayed slightly, holding a square glass with a residue of brown, viscous liquid. His gaze was glued to the ample cleavage of the girl standing before him. Underneath his jacket, he was most likely carrying a handgun, as a conspicuous bulge revealed. Sergey came within two steps of the man and the girl.

"Yegor Mikhailovich...?" he said to the man, who turned a little confused and looked at Sergey, who still looked like he had come straight from the wilderness in his thick fur-covered clothes.

"Yes. Can't you see I'm busy, peasant?" Yegor replied, slurring his words but still in an extremely gruff tone. Sergey took another deep breath and clenched his teeth. There was nothing nice or good about this place. He had arrived at the dregs of humanity. How many murders, robberies and drug deals were planned in the Tavern that night? How many prostitutes were working here involuntarily? How many of the girls of the gang members present had been enslaved like Aksinya? And yet he could not get rid of the last doubt in his mind. Was it really right what he was doing here? Wasn't he becoming a part of what he despised so much? He wanted to go back to nature, back to the periphery, back to the wild animals, none of whom would ever behave like this collection of criminals.

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"You have something that belongs to the Duke," Sergey said calmly and firmly. "He wants it back, and he wants it now." Yegor's eyes narrowed to slits, and the fingers of the hand holding the glass moved imperceptibly to the open zipper of his jacket. Sergey did not miss the movement. Yegor placed his hand there to make it easier for the other hand to reach his gun.

"I don't know what you're talking about, peasant. Now go back to shoveling shit in your barn," he sneered with a filthy grin that revealed a full row of yellow teeth. The girl chuckled at the insult with feigned glee and squeezed her plump breasts with her upper arms, causing them to spill out of her cleavage quite a bit. Apparently, she was no stranger to such situations, which explained her jaded attitude. Yegor's gaze immediately returned to the impressive female form in front of him. It was just the distraction Sergey needed. He kicked Yegor sideways in the left knee with all his might. The leg buckled with a loud crack as it broke just below the knee, and he slumped to the ground like a felled tree, eyes wide open. The pain robbed Yegor of his breath, and before he could scream, Sergey grabbed him by his dyed hair and yanked his head to the side, simultaneously kneeling on his right forearm and pulling a pistol from under his victim's camouflage jacket with his other hand. Then he struck, bringing the handle of the pistol down on Yegor's nose with a powerful blow. Blood spurted across the floor from the now grotesquely protruding nose. Yegor gasped, choked, and spat more blood as Sergey increased the pull on his hair, stretching his head almost to his right shoulder. Then he put the barrel of the gun right on the shaved part of his head. Sergey's heart was beating wildly and he didn't notice how the conversations in the tavern had fallen silent, how suddenly almost all eyes were on him.

"You have something that belongs to the Duke," he repeated his earlier sentence. He spoke very slowly, very clearly. "He wants it back, where is it?"

"Pants... pocket... in the back..." Yegor croaked, rolling his eyes in pain so much that his pupils were barely visible. Sergey slowly cocked the hammer of the pistol, which clicked into place. A twitch of his finger would be enough.

"Then take that thing out and show it to me," Sergey growled. Trembling, Yegor did as he was told. His hand slowly went to his pocket and he pulled out a wallet from which a small floppy disk protruded. He held it out to Sergey, who let go of his hair, snatched the wallet from his hand and stood up at the same moment. The gun was still pointed at his head. Blood flowed in a thin trickle from the broken nose, the splintered leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Yegor gasped again, twitching and passing out from the pain.

"Hey sweetie, that was really hot how you finished him off so easily. You are a real killer, that really turned me on! Do you want to experience something really awesome?" the girl in the white boots purred at Sergey and stroked her plump breasts provocatively. Sergey opened the wallet and looked inside. Then he pulled out a thousand ruble bill and held it out to the girl. She looked at it confusedly, but immediately accepted the bill. When she tucked the bill into her cleavage, Sergey was already on his way out. He suspected that the girls would get into trouble if they didn't make enough money, and he had just knocked her customer unconscious. She shouldn't get into trouble because of him, it wasn't her fault. Sergey put one foot in front of the other and crossed the tavern with quick steps, while the conversations and negotiations resumed around him. They paid no attention to him. That's how it was here in the slums, that's how it was in the whole city. Sergey had just mercilessly taken what he wanted and what he had come for. People respected ruthlessness and violence. He had been the stronger one in this game. None of the other guests had shown the slightest inclination to intervene in this confrontation. Yegor did not belong to any group, he was just a simple thief. A thief who had laid his hands on the property of the wrong person.

When Sergey stepped through the curtain again, he took the magazine from the captured pistol and put it in his pocket, but dropped the weapon itself in front of the entrance. The magazine would fit in the pistol he had taken from Aksinya's tormentor some time ago, and some extra ammunition couldn't hurt. Without slowing down, he walked straight towards Aksinya, who was still waiting for him in the cold and darkness. She walked towards him, slowly at first, then faster. When they finally met, she hugged him tightly and pressed herself against him, shivering from the cold.

"Let's get out of here," he said, his voice sounding nervous, urgent, almost a little unfamiliar. He wanted to get away from this place as soon as possible, away from this experience. He was not someone who wanted to hurt people on purpose. A slight nausea rose in him as the tension and fear began to ease a bit.

"Do you have the disk for the Duke?" Aksinya asked, still holding him close. She could tell how much the execution of this order had upset him, and she wanted to reassure him.

"Yes. Yes... I have it," he replied quietly, forcing a smile.

"It's going to be okay, you know?" she said, trying to sound as confident as possible. "We're going to take this thing to him now, and then you'll get all the information you need." Sergey nodded and took another deep breath, inhaling her lovely scent and feeling the warmth of her embrace, her soft hand against his face. Then he took her hand and gently pulled her with him into the next dark alley. It wasn't too far to the Duke's hideout. If they hurried, they would be there in about an hour. Then Sergey would finally get the information he had come to the city for. The truth was at his fingertips.