Chapter 3: Monsters Lurk in Shadows

The streets were deserted on my way home.

I let my head fall back. Though I wasn’t a superstar, people would still recognise me out in the open, and I was not in the mood for that.

Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I sent a message to May.

[Done with training. About to walk to the bus.]

The reply was instant.

[Okido! Will you make it in time? Should I send a driver to pick you up?]

I scratched my chin. The current time was eight PM, which left me another three hours before the party started. My walk to my flat would take me twenty minutes, and I’d need another thirty to arrive at the venue. If I didn’t miss my bus, I added. The Primals know how often that happened.

Still, that left me more than enough time.

[Thank you, but I’ll be fine.]

[Are you sure?]

[Yes. I’ll text you when I’m home.]

I yawned after putting away my phone. Was showing up to a party two days before my fight a good idea? Maybe not. But I wanted to support my best friend. May had finished the sorcerer's academy in first place, so her father was inviting a list of influential people to show off his daughter.

There was a consolation. Sort of. May said she’d promote my upcoming battle during her speech. I chuckled. Yes. Let’s advertise the knucklehead at a celebration honouring intelligence. That wouldn’t make me feel inadequate at all.

Her heart was in a good place, though, and I appreciated that.

My attention returned to the road. Since Prospus was one of the wealthiest districts of Dagon, corporate buildings were almost as common as trashcans. I walked past Dan’s Corner, a bar the white-collar workers frequented. Usually, laughter would follow my wake. But there was none. Greenery greeted me as I continued, and I couldn’t help but drop my shoulders.

After walking a while, a tingle in my left knuckle disrupted my inner calm.

Huh?

Boxing wraps still covered my hands as I turned them over in the moonlight, judging them from different angles. The bandage around my left middle finger was torn as if I’d raked it against something sharp. There was also a cut running the length of my digit.

“Did I make contact with anything?”

Images of my evening flicked through my head. I hadn't done anything except jumping rope and shadowboxing. They were tiring exercises. But they wouldn't hurt me.

Samantha cleaning her ear, replayed in my mind. ‘Which one of them were you hitting?’ she’d asked. I’d dismissed her question at the time. Now, I frowned. She’d come in as the explosion sounded, hadn’t she?

Again, I wanted to ascribe it to coincidence. But, now that the adrenaline had faded, some things about my imagination of Leila revealed themselves as off-centre line. Why did she have the eyes of a reptile, and how come they had changed colour? Also, the sounds. I had a vivid imagination. But, those sensations had felt…real. Too real.

It had been my imagination, right? A chill crept up my throat. It must’ve been. Or, what, had I been fighting an inferior Shura—

A crash resounded behind me. I flinched. My neck turned with the speed of a snail, but when my eyes finally looked backwards, nothing was out of place. An earthquake drummed through my chest as my heart tried its best to escape its confines.

What—

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A cat walked from beside a dumpster on the side of a building. It held my gaze for a second. ‘You’re an idiot,’ it seemed to say, then it sauntered off.

My laughter cascaded through the streets.

“Way to scare yourself, Asha.”

An inferior shura in the middle of the city. Of course. I'd tell Dad that joke tomorrow.

Meeting one of our fullblooded counterparts meant death in most cases since they were many times more powerful than even us halfs, let alone purebloods. But they stayed away from densely populated areas.

Besides, this was Dagon, Domain of Heroes! Multiple fighters, magicians, and our Priestess were on alert around the clock. And which inferior Shura would disappear because someone turned on a light?

None, I answered, then looked back at my wound.

So. What caused you? Did I scrape it against a doorframe? Could be. Either way, I’d need to get it healed. I wanted zero distractions to deal with whatever the Little Knockout had in store for me. And since the folk at the party were already going to look at me as the class clown, I did not need a plaster to support their opinion.

“Hhm.”

I was low on time, but Clementine Hospital was close by. I'd visited it plenty of times after some of my fights. Not sure if they would still be open for minor issues, though. Luckily, I knew a doctor there.

“If I cut through Brighttown, I can get there within ten minutes.”

Brighttown was a district right next to Prospus that was, ironically enough, one of the poorest parts of Dagon. It was next to my way home. So I could afford the detour. I put a spring in my step and turned a corner. Some time later, the neighbourhood came into view.

On the left side of the street was a large sign which read, ‘Brighttown.' At least, it did initially. Vandals had sprayed the name over with graffiti, writing in capital letters:

NO SHURAS.

Though it wasn't a welcoming sight, I didn't think anything of it. I'd never had trouble travelling through the area, especially at night, where I could easily be mistaken for a pureblood. As long as I kept my distance from other passersby, I would be fine.

I stalked past little apartment flats, which couldn't have been healthy for more than one person to live in. They were stacked on each other with clothes hanging down the balconies. Most of the houses had tears in them as well. Every few footfalls, I had to skip a step to avoid a soda can or paper bag from some nearby fast food chain.

My breathing became more shallow. Darkness cloaked the buildings, and the atmosphere drooped over my shoulders as it had done in the past. But the attire was heavier tonight. Almost as if someone had laced stones at the ends of the cape. It weighed me down and whispered in my ear: You can enter but won’t leave here.

For all intents and purposes, the region was an antonym to its name.

My feet carried me further in, and I raised my eyebrows at the unfolding scene. Doors were barricaded shut. One even had a warning on the front that amounted to: We’re not letting you in—cross at your own peril.

I stopped in place.

“What’s going on?”

The last time I’d passed through this place was a few weeks ago. None of this had been here, then. What happened? My thoughts raced. I think it’s better to turn back. While I would hate walking around with a band-aid at a high-class party, I valued my life more than my pride.

When I was mid-turn, a shriek echoed through the streets. There was a cross-section in front of me, and the scream had originated from the right. Checking it out would be the dumbest decision of my day. But there was a problem. It sounded like a woman's cry for help. So, I tread forward, darting behind a market stall, which would give me vantage over the open street but still camouflage me.

I peeked over the top, and my blood ran cold. Ahead of me was a figure as lanky as a scarecrow. A mask covered his face with the mouth painted on in the image of a perpetual smile. On his head was a hat that extended past his ears, which had bells fastened at the end. They chimed.

His palm held a girl by the scruff of the neck. I couldn’t quite see her features, but blood gushed from her temple in rivulets. The criminal dragged her into an alley like you would an overweight grocery bag, her limp body scuffling over the ground.

A heartbeat of hesitation gnawed in my chest. Then, it was gone. I wasn't armed, but I wasn't planning on fighting. I didn't have a height advantage over the mystery man, which meant there was a good chance of him being a Shura. That, and his entire appearance, reeked of magic. I could flush any thought of fighting him down the drain if he could control mana. This wasn't a boxing arena where the rules only allowed you to use a small amount of your powers. This was real life. One good hit would take me out.

So, I fished my phone out of my pocket as I crept towards the alley entrance. I didn't dial the alarm number—they wouldn't arrive on time in this part of town. Instead, I rang May. Her father was the chief of police, so help was guaranteed to arrive. With some luck, she'd send a Balancer my way. Together with herself, I mentally chuckled. She didn’t know the definition of ‘overkill.’

The corner of my eye slipped past the wall. I came face to face with a dead-end. My pupils darted over the dark space and found it empty. The phone line clicked open. Faintly, I heard May call my name. My throat pounded as I took quiet steps backwards. I fully expected the criminal to come lunging out at me out of nowhere, like in a cliche horror movie, but nothing happened.

Once I was out of earshot, I found May, bless her heart, hadn’t hung up despite me not answering.

My voice was less than a whisper.

“May, I just witnessed a kidnapping in Brighttown. A potential Shura in clown clothes that can use magic. Possible abilities: teleportation or cloaking. Location—”

I swivelled in place, looking for an identifying mark. My gaze locked on a pharmacy on the other side of the street.

“—Super Pharmaceuticals.”

May began to respond when a sharp cold came to rest against my throat.

“That’s enough.”