'The members of the Crimson Hand identify themselves with a crimson hand tattoo, often located under the wrist, or the shoulder,' Ethan reads. 'Different world, same customs. But seeing the dead or alive note, I guess the guard is way less lenient than the police.'

Using predator's sight, Ethan listens to the early morning conversations. A crowd bustles in the nearby market, each patron bargaining for their daily meal. The melodic strains of a lute drift through the air, accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of the minstrel's feet. The steady hammering of blacksmiths and the whirring of spinning wheels resonate from the nearby workshops. Armor clinks and boots thud against the cobblestones as patrols make their rounds. A cat chirps on a roof above Ethan, attracting Russ's attention.

Ethan's attention falls upon an alleyway discussion. "Look what we 'ave 'ere," a man says, his pronunciation a mockery of education.

A drunken man stirs slightly, his words slurred. "I haven't got anything for you; leave me be,' he mumbles, his voice tinged with fear.

"Nothin' for us? Now that ain't very neighborly, is it?" another growls, his voice dripping with malice.

'Hide,' Ethan orders Russ. Using silent steps, he moves to the roof above the altercation. The three assailants are wearing plain, tattered clothes. They carry hidden daggers in their belts and shoes. One of them bears a hand tattoo on his neck, badly hidden by his shirt. 'Lucky me,' Ethan thinks.

They kick the man in the face before rummaging through his clothes. They take his coins and a bottle he held in his hand. Careful not to make a sound, Ethan follows their movements. 'Follow, sneak,' Ethan orders. He leaps from rooftop to rooftop, his movement silenced by his ability. Russ prowls in the streets, keeping his distance.

As they make their way through the crowded street, Ethan goes down into the throng of pedestrians. He ducks into alleyways and slips behind market stalls, limiting their opportunities to see him.

One of them looks behind, and Ethan turns to a merchant's wares, faking interest. They continue, unknowing of his presence. He tracks them to the docks, where they board a small boat laden with crates. Ethan observes from an alleyway as Russ joins him. They search through the crates and load three onto a waiting cart.

Ethan follows them as they make their way through the streets. They look around at regular intervals, grimacing each time the cart shakes on the uneven road. They come to a stop along a house where they unload the crates.

Ethan scans the building, finding an opened window on the second floor. Through predator's sight, he sees that the three bandits are discussing with a fourth individual on the first floor. He looks around, making sure no one is watching.

Ethan kneels at the side of the building, placing his hands as if to propel another man. Russ runs at him, leaping towards the second-floor window. Ethan pushes on Russ's back legs, amplifying his leap by a few meters. Ethan scales the side of the building, his finger finding purchase on the stone bricks. Reaching the window, Ethan enters a bedroom filled with dirty clothes.

"I am telling you, this batch is stronger than the last one. I'm feeling fucking invincible!" the fourth gang member boasts. Ethan's brow furrows as he listens.

As the conversation continues, Ethan silently slips from the bedroom. He makes his way down the staircase, followed by Russ. 'Hide,' he orders. Russ lies down behind a chest, listening to the bandits' discussion.

Ethan enters the room, immediately drawing the bandits' attention. The three he followed place themselves in front of the one they joined in this building. "Should I assume you outrank the three of them?" Ethan asks calmly.

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"You lost, boy? This ain't no place for the likes of you," one sneers, his voice dripping with contempt.

Ethan's gaze meets the leader's glare with a cold resolve. "I'm exactly where I need to be," he retorts evenly.

The four bandits exchange mocking glances, their laughter echoing through the room. "Listen to 'im. Thinks he's some kind of hero, do ya?" one of them jeers.

Another bandit's lips curl into a malicious grin, his hand drawing a dagger. He walks towards Ethan, pointing his blade at Ethan's jaw. The bandit falls to the ground, his slashed throat painting the lime walls red.

Dark Ether swirls around Ethan as he lowers his dagger to the side. The two other bandits run at him. Ethan stabs the first through the stomach, dragging his blade up his chest to his heart. The second slashes at Ethan's neck, but he deflects the blow using his coat. He pulls his dagger out and pierces the last assailant's skull.

As he absorbs the newly formed Ether, Ethan approaches the last man. The bandit tries to run towards the door, but his body falls limp to the ground. The dark tendrils of Ethan's debilitating hex sap the man's strength. Ethan drags him to a chair, binding his arms and legs with a nearby rope.

Ethan's gaze hardens as he leans in closer. "I want information," he says, his tone cold. "Information about your operation. How many members are there in your gang? Where are your assets located? Everything you know."

The bandit hesitates for a moment, trying to avoid Ethan's gaze. "I'll tell you nothing; they'll kill me if I do," he blurts out, his voice strained with desperation.

"There are fates worse than death," Ethan says. He kicks the chair, hurling the man to his back. Ethan cuts out a chunk of a dead bandit's cotton shirt and tosses it on the man's face. He grabs a bucket filled with water lying in a corner and slowly pours it.

After a minute, Ethan peals off the cloth. The man gasps for air, and Ethan puts the cloth back on, resuming the flow of water. The bucket empties, and Ethan allows the man to breathe once again.

"How many members are there in the crimson hand?" Ethan asks.

"A hundred! That's how many I've seen when we met," he says between gasping for air and coughing water.

"Good, now tell me about the other places like this one. The buildings you use for your operations," Ethan asks.

The bandit starts crying. "I can't tell you; they will kill me and my family to make an example," he begs. Ethan puts the cloth back. "No! Please stop! I'm going to die if you continue!" the man implores.

"It seems you don't have more water in here," Ethan says. "I've seen a wheel outside. I'm leaving you with my friend; don't try to flee or he'll kill you." Ethan leaves the room. Stopping just beyond the door frame, he thinks, 'Russ, hostage.'

Russ lays down next to the man's covered head, growling. The bandit twitches at the sound, and Russ barks, biting the air right next to his face. The man cries, pieing his pants. Ethan waits until the man's starts shaking and thinks, 'Hide.' Russ returns to his spot as Ethan removes the cloth.

Ethan lifts the man's chair, sitting him at a table. "Feeling more talkative?" Ethan asks as he sits in front of the man.

"Ok, ok, we use boats owned by a false company, Silver Galleon, to transport drugs from a plantation in the north. We use houses just like this one all around town to temporarily store them before selling them on the streets." He chokes, trying to speak between sobs. "Everything the guys steal, we sell to a man named Cole Delaney; he owns the Gems Emporium and uses it to send what he buys to other cities."

"Anything else?" Ethan asks.

He gasps, snot filling his throat. "We extort shops for protection."

"I need the name of your boss." Ethan's voice is cold, unchanged by the man's information.

"I fucking can't, man. He will gut me if he knows I told you."

Ethan moves behind the man and slashes one of his fingers. Dark Ether rises above the table as the blade draws Ether from the bandits. "I wonder how many fingers it will take for it to consume your life force."

The man tries to grasp his bleeding hand, but his binds hold him to the chair. Ethan draws his dagger alongside the bandit's arm, slowly draining him of his Ether. Dark veins start appearing from his heart and along his neck. His breaths turn shallow as his skin pales.

"Viktor Blackwood! He's the one who pays us!" he yells.

"Where can I find him?" Ethan asks.

The man locks his gaze with Ethan's, shocked by his question. He laughs despite the pain. "You've no idea the shit you just walked into. What are you going to do now? You better hide in the deepest, darkest hole you can find. Because when he finds you, you will regret being born."

Ethan smiles. "What am I going to do now? Well, I will do the same I did to you to any other bandit I find until I am certain you told me the truth. And then I will kill your leader and take his place through a proxy. In doing that, I'll ensure that I have a hand in this city's criminal world and ample resources at my disposal. Ho, but you won't be here to see that." Ethan drives his dagger through the man's skull, ending his life.