"I could never get used to how silent this place is. It's so...peaceful."
"Right?"
"Peaceful?... It just creeps me out, personally. I'm not questioning either of your tastes, but who would be comfortable in an empty palace?"
"I would."
"...Better empty than filled with people I don't like."
Glenn, Milena, and Sahro were in the middle of their usual banter as they began planning the next day's operation.
Well, the operation was quite big of a word, when in reality, they'd only be snooping around the black market and the Onnea's Church. The underground and the Church were the two main forces in the Eastern Town, so if something was going on in the city, they had to be aware of it.
"So, who's going where?" Glenn crossed his arms while looking at his companions with a questioning look. Milena smiled and pulled Javier toward her, the pale hunter letting her do so without a single change in his expression, still as dead as ever.
"Javier and I will be going to speak with the witnesses who saw the Ice Wolf, we have quite the list to check out. Oh, I feel like I'm in one of my adventure books!" Milena's grin grew wider. Glenn sneered before shaking his head.
"You sure sound like some excited teenager. Where did your immense pride from back then go?" He taunted, making her puff her cheeks.
"That was only an...an act, to make sure no one would suspect I'm from, well, you know!" She stammered, before leaving the room with Javier, pulling him behind her without giving him a choice. Glenn and Sahro traded a glance, before chuckling together.
"Well, let's go do the fun part, I guess. I suppose you've already gone to the black market, Sahro?" Glenn asked as he watched the door close behind Milena. Sahro shrugged.
"...I do know how to get there, I but have no idea of where the market is," The Black Heir rubbed the pommel of his sword, grinning. Glenn frowned before raising his hands toward the sky with confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Sahro moistened his lips and sat over a nearby table. They were discussing right in the center of the Dining Hall, which was empty of any Fixers. The whole Cleaner's Workshop would be empty anyway if it wasn't for the group's presence.
"The black market never stays in one spot. The entry point always moves from one place to another, making it impossible to be found without the organizers inviting you," Sahro explained, Glenn, grumbling with a nod of understanding.
"...And I guess you've been invited?" Glenn theorized, only to earn a sneer from Sahro.
"Of course not, I'm a renowned Fixer. Do you know what's the main category of tasks in the Eastern Town?"
Glenn shook his head without a clue. Sahro's grin grew widely.
"Bounties," spat the Black Heir, before quickly adding, "...human bounties, to be precise."
He rubbed the pommel of his sword while passing his tongue over his teeth.
"I...Wasn't aware that was a thing, and had my first weeks ruined by a few, disgusting, nobles humans," Sahro hissed scornfully, before smacking his lips and shaking his head. Glenn sneered, his eyebrows rising.
"Nobles? You know, our definition of nobility might not be the same, Sahro."
The Black Heir creased his nose.
"I mean, they're humans who think they're above everyone for some reason, right?"
Glenn couldn't help but agree, as the definition seemed a little too fitting. Sahro shrugged.
"Well, those were indeed nobles. Anyway, after struggling for quite a while, without weapons nor clothes, Loran — the Cleaner's Workshop's intendant — found me, and showed me the bounties contracts," Sahro grinned and looked silently at his friend, who nodded deeply, understanding what happened next easily. Sahro waved his hand dismissively, before continuing his explanations.
"Anyway, this and that happened, the Eastern Town smelled a little better thanks to me cleaning up the filth, and I earned a reputation that might...make our investigation a tiny bit harder," The Black Heir scratched the back of his head with an awkward grin. Glenn gestured for Sahro to continue, his brows creased.
"I might — well, I'm probably, no, most certainly banned from all entry points, for some, uhm, you know, probably racist reasons?" Sahro tried as he bobbed his head from left to right. Glenn rubbed the edge of his nose, unable to stop a long sigh from leaving his mouth.
"Of course, you had to kill the dumbasses working for the black market, and make all future interactions straight up impossible...great, really great..." The young man rubbed the corner of his eyes tiredly when a familiar mouth suddenly appeared in his left palm.
"It sure makes me think of someone with a certain Baron..." Diamanes mocked. Glenn closed his hand tightly out of surprise while Sahro reflexively pulled his sword out while cursing in a foreign tongue. A second of silence passed as Glenn rubbed his forehead painfully, spending every single ounce of his mental strength on not swearing at this annoying, stupid, evil entity living in his left hand. Suddenly, a muffled voice came from the closed hand, pleading.
"Guys, hey, we can talk, can't we? Come on Sahro, my best mate!"
Sahro spat to the side before sheathing his sword back. Glenn opened his hand slowly and grimaced at the grinning mouth lying inside, mocking him in all its splendor.
"I'd rather lose my other arm than talk to you, fucking ruh sayiya..!" The Black Heir groaned before turning away from Glenn, his hand tightly clenched around his sword's hilt.
"Hey, you know, everything you went through with Glenn, you also went through with me! I might be silent most of the time, but I'm your greatest fan!" Diamanes exclaimed happily, using shamelessly the Dining Hall's emptiness to speak all his fill.
"That's so unfair, I can't even speak aloud!" Nelg complained. Glenn mentally thanked the gods that the sword was unable to say a word, before sitting on a nearby bench while leaning back comfortably on a table's side.
"Let's ignore this idiot for now. Do you have a solution to get into the black market?" Glenn questioned. Sahro grinned without saying a thing and picked up a bag he had previously brought in, throwing it to his friend.
Glenn caught it and opened it up, his eyebrows creasing in confusion for a few seconds, until realization dawned on him. He smiled widely, before said smile became crooked with even deeper confusion once he pulled what he thought was a mask. Instead, it was some kind of leather balaclava that seemed to be made of human skin, with the smell that went with it.
"Sahro, what the fuck is this?" He blurted out as he looked at the mask with a closer look. The more he looked at it, the more it seemed like a human face.
The Black Heir smacked his lips and raised his palms in the air.
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"I don't even know! I asked one of my..." He marked a pause and shivered, "...friends, for a solution, and that's the bag they delivered to me in reply."
He rubbed his chin, before shrugging dismissively.
"But well, as..." he gulped, "...terrifying as those people are, they're trustworthy. Those should help us enter the black market, one way or another."
Glenn looked at the strange human-face-like thingy, before holding it toward Sahro.
"Well, then, uhm, here you go. Just..." The young man searched for his words and bit down on his lip, "...try it on, I guess?"
Sahro took the "mask" and looked at it hesitantly, before trying to press it against his face. It stuck to his skin slightly, but only to come off with a disgusting squishing noise.
'Don't tell Sahro, but I think that's someone's face he's trying to wear right now,' Diamanes silently commented in his host's mind. Glenn could only agree but chose to let Sahro marinate a few more seconds, just to see if the Black Heir would eventually realize that misplaced trust might lead to some inconvenient situations. He chose to dive deeper into the bag, to see if there were more "masks" or anything else of use.
He quickly found another "mask", which he carefully placed on the table next to him, alongside a small folded note. He glanced at Sahro who was still struggling to find a way to make the "mask" stick to his face, before opening the note and silently reading it.
"Hey Mister Bounty Hunter, here's what you've asked of us! These are the faces of Begar and Degar, two idiots who tried to rape up a daughter of a Skinner, earning themselves the ire of the whole gang. If you go to the Hanged Inn and give this to the weirdo in the back room, he'll lead you to the black market. Careful though, you should bring yourself a mask and cover your delicious skin, or they might try to kill you. After all, you reduced their workforce by quite a bit last time you were here. Oh, also, we're all very pleased to welcome you back! Don't hesitate to visit us, we're all impatient to see you!" There was a heart drawn at the end of the message, alongside a few red lip marks.
Glenn rubbed his nose absent-mindedly, his eyes slowly drifting between the note and the Black Heir. Nelg coughed awkwardly.
"So, how do you find my "backseat" reading? Exactly as if you read it aloud, only it's in your mind, and I'm the one speaking!" The sword exclaimed proudly, before quickly changing his tone, "Oh, yeah, no I'm also shocked by the letter's contents, but I mean, look at Sahro. That was a given he would make a killing with the ladies here!"
"Nelg, please shut the fuck up. I'm processing things here, it's not the moment to make my brain struggle even more," Glenn raised his hand in front of him, the one he had used to pick the mask up. Quickly, he used Mundare over it, earning himself a questioning gaze from his Black Heir friend. Sahro gave up trying to stick the human face to his own and put it on a nearby table before nodding toward the letter.
"What's that?" He asked with an interested look. Glenn, his face entirely drained of blood, held the note toward him without saying anything. The Black Heir took it with curiosity, swiftly reading it. His emotional state went through quite a few stages: first, it was gratefulness, then it was shock, right after that was disgust, and the last in line was fear. The paper note slipped out of his fingers before slowly drifting in the air to land on the ground.
"Glenn," Sahro asked after a long minute of silence, his face now empty both of emotions and blood.
"Sahro," replied Glenn as a fit of laughter suddenly surged from within him.
"Tell me I didn't just try to stick someone's dead face to my own?"
"..."
"Glenn?"
"Pfft!"
"That's no laughing matter, Glenn!"
"Pfft...Hahahaha, you fucking idiot!" Glenn finally exploded, pointing his finger mockingly toward his friend. The Black Heir fell on a nearby bench, before retching in disgust.
"Please, urgh, cast your cleaning spell over me, I think I'm going to..." He hurriedly placed his hand in front of his mouth. Glenn laughed a bit more, before giving mercy to his friend and using Mundare over him. Sahro sighed in relief and sat as far away as he could from the skinned faces.
Glenn breathed in deeply to calm himself, before shaking his head in disbelief.
"I have so many questions. First, how the fuck can't you even suspect it?" He questioned before letting another laugh. Sahro's eyes were wide open as he stared at the note on the ground with visible fear.
"I—I thought those were some kind of special masks that let you take other people's appearances, not a fucking skinned face!" He stammered, before turning away and hiding his face behind his only hand. Glenn couldn't resist and laughed a bit more, before becoming slightly more serious.
"Sahro, I do have another question though," His face hardened and he crossed his arms, "...Which women did you cross for you to be so..." He trailed off and nudged his chin toward the note, making Sahro tremble and rub his face.
"They're not women..." He replied softly, "...no, they're monsters. True, crazy, insane monsters. Probably the only opponent I will never be able to defeat."
Glenn restrained himself from sneering, before nodding deeply.
"Yeah, women are scary. Except for Milena, of course."
"Except Milena, yeah..." Sahro shook his head. He winced and picked the human face on his side with only two fingers, before throwing it in the bag. Glenn did the same, only he used his Gravity Manipulation to do it. After carefully closing the bag up and making sure no "suspicious" smell was coming off it, Glenn and Sahro left the Dining Hall and the Cleaner's Workshop.
"You'll have to present them to me though," Glenn suddenly said as they strolled through the eastern city, the moonlight of the twin moons dimmed by a dense carpet of clouds. Sahro's head snapped toward him, the Black Heir seemingly thinking for a few seconds before giving his reply.
"No," he blurted out dryly. Glenn looked at him with a slight smile, before trying again.
"Is that a definite no?"
"Yes. Trust me, some people are better unmet." Sahro said with a hint of despair, succeeding in scaring Glenn a little.
"We fought evil flesh manifestations, and you're scared of a woman? What's wrong with you...?" He muttered, before stopping in front of a store. The inside was lit with a soft white light, while the windows were covered in carved wooden gear that was slowly cranking for some unknown purpose.
'...That's the most advanced technology I've seen in this world. Huh,' Glenn's curiosity was immediately aroused, and he entered the shop.
'...Tsk, "advanced technology"? That's the equivalent of a water wheel. That's — what, the next step after the invention of metallurgy?' Diamanes commented sarcastically. Glenn rolled his eyes and ignored him as he breathed in the mixed perfume of lacquered wood and sawdust. A small bell rang in his welcome, garnering an old woman's attention from behind a dusty counter. Sahro followed inside the shop and was immediately drawn to the finely sculpted beasts lying on a shelf.
Glenn glanced admiratively at the shop's contents. Be it wooden sculptures, furniture, or even grandfather clocks — which surprised the young man quite a bit — they had it all. The old lady hurriedly came out of the counter, adjusting an eyepatch on her left eye before coming up to him, leaning on an ancient hickory cane. She was barely half his size and looked like the gentlest soul that could live in this horrible world.
"Oh my, it's been centuries since we last received customers? How may I help you, young man?" She asked with a shaky voice. Glenn looked down at her and smiled gently, before pointing at the grandfather clock.
"Uhm, I was just curious about this cl—contraption here. I've never seen one before."
The old lady rubbed her eyepatch before looking at the grandfather clock.
"Well, this ain't so surprising, young man. This is called a grandfather clock and is used to keep time. It's quite handy, only not very portable, ho ho ho!" She laughed shakily, drawing another smile out of Glenn. With his hands on his waist, he moistened his lips and glanced back around the shop.
"Do they make it in a smaller version? A portable one, to use your words," He asked respectfully, the old lady chuckling silently before going back to her counter. She pulled a black box out of a dusty shelve and placed it on the counter, blowing air on it softly to get rid of the dust.
Glenn approached the box curiously, wondering whether he was going to get a watch, something he thought would be impossible in this day and age.
"You say that, but that's because you forgot about Doyle's Laboratory's existence," Nelg remarked, earning himself a silent sneer from his host.
'I just consider the Laboratory to be a strange exception. It just doesn't count, it's there to seal a fucking god or something. I think. Or produce Blumar golems. Or do both. I don't know, man...'
The old lady opened the box carefully, revealing an item glowing with a brass luster. Glenn's eyes widened with amazement like a child finding a Christmas gift. The old lady gently took the item, which had a flat, oval shape while remaining quite thick, and pressed a small button at the top. The egg split in two, revealing a dial ticking with each passing second, a single finely crafted hand hovering right over a face marked with Roman numerals, indicating over 11. P.M.
This ancient watch was a piece of art with the engraving of glass hour nested in the other split face, gleaming under the shop's soft light.
"That's..." Glenn was speechless as he carefully picked the watch up, putting it next to his ear to hear the clicks more distinctly. The sound dug up an old, warm memory he thought he had forgotten, bringing a sad smile to his face. The old lady rubbed her eyepatch before pointing at the watch with a shriveled finger.
"Yes, this is a Mark I Exan egg, one of the first serial. Ho ho, I can see in your eyes that you know how priceless this jewel is," She laughed with both of her hands leaning on her old hickory cane. Sahro suddenly popped out from behind Glenn's shoulder, giving little to no attention to the Exan-egg.
"Hello, I have a quick question..?" asked the Black Heir gently.
The old lady squinted at him, her eyes widening slightly when she took a look at him, before chuckling.
"Ho ho, ask away, young man! Anything to help a stranded Black Heir, ho ho ho..."
Sahro scratched the back of his neck, glancing at his stumped shoulder, before biting down on his lip and shaking his head.
"Do you have masks?"