“What do I make of this…” Lars stood behind his desk, arms propping him against its surface as unintelligible documents crumpled underneath his weight. He was piling the information in his head, going over it again and again, until the inside of his mind looked no different compared to the messy surface of his desk. The room was too empty, completely devoid of stimulus, leaving nothing but dull silence to answer him.

‘Without purpose or meaning; ultimate wildcard; embody chaos; remain unpredictable; unseen by those who see everything’;

‘Kill without remorse; eat among humans; befriend, betray; It is your discretion’;

‘No power; appropriate theirs; 'your true strength';

‘Capacity; one slot; 1/2; seduction’.

While the voice's murmurings were still fresh in his mind, and he could remember what was said in enough detail, he grabbed hold of the leather-bound notebook and fished for a pen among the scattered pages, hastily writing down the key points.

I’ll try to figure out the basic points first, then I can get Leonard here to discuss what these mean in more detail… Lars had a rough plan. To begin with, he decided to go in the chronological order of what was said; from first to last. At the same time, he presumed that each grouping was connected in some way.

‘Without purpose or meaning’… Is it referring to my background? This world’s version of me is higher class, but he also participated in war and achieved medals; so perhaps he’s nouveau-riche, gaining money later in life. If so, it’s possible that every version of me is destined to grow up poor and without purpose or meaning. And because of that… I’m the ‘Ultimate wildcard’, since I have no family to restrain me or concrete moral principles that would’ve been taught in a school. Then, it wants me to ‘Embody chaos’… which means to ‘remain unpredictable’? As for the last one, ‘Unseen by those who see everything’… I don’t have a clue right now. Who 'sees everything'?

‘Kill without remorse’ is obviously referring to Troels, Jansen, and Victoria—but does the voice know about Jansen and Troels? Does it even know about my true identity? There’s no guarantee. And the thing about remorse, I don’t know if I’m wanting to lose that. It makes me human. But that must tie into the next part: to ‘Eat among humans’. That must imply to become something not human. Why? For what purpose? ‘Befriend’, ‘Betray’, ‘Discretion’, follows that thinking—telling me to do what I want—but I can’t tell if there’s more to it.

Then there’s ‘No power’, ‘Appropriate theirs’, ‘True strength’. That’s pretty straightforward. If the power that’s being referred to is like Rhys’ teleportation ability, then it’s saying I don’t have anything of the sort. But an… abnormality(?) has developed to take others’ powers. I’m guessing that based upon the ‘Capacity’, ‘1/2’, ‘Seduction’. I’ve taken an ability already… and I’m guessing it was from Victoria. I wouldn’t be surprised if an ability with that name was originally from her.

Lars put away the notebook, locking it again and returning it to the lower drawer under his desk. He then left the office and found the nearest servant; telling them to find Leonard, bring him here, and to invite him if he wasn’t in the mansion today. It was still uncertain even now if he lived inside the mansion or outside. As Lars found more problems related to this, he mentally noted to investigate everyone who frequented his home so he could understand all of their situations. It was important to be informed on what he should know.

Time passed deeper into the afternoon; while he spent time with his family, helping with Damien’s training, reviewing Charles’ progress in his education, and happily conversing with Vanessa, eventually, news about Leonard arrived. He had indeed left the estate and sent back a notice which told of his arrival the next day.

His position as an assistant was mainly business-related and didn’t necessitate permanent residence in the mansion. For now, Lars could only wait to discuss his new revelations, but he wasn’t fond of sitting around and doing nothing.

When it was around six in the afternoon, he found his way to the kitchen where their chef prepared their meals. He waited until an odd time later on to ensure that no one but their employed chef would be inhabiting the space, intending to start conversation, seeing the effects of his ‘seduction’ during normal conversation. That maid wasn’t seduced of Lars' own will after all.

But upon reaching the kitchen and entering, he found two people inside; speaking amongst each other with neither friendly nor unfriendly tones. This didn’t come as a surprise, since the kitchen staff may still be cleaning or preparing for the next day, but he wasn’t prepared to see a recognisable face; a grungy-looking man with medium-length hair, overly practical clothing, and a wild demeanour was hunched over a plate.

The chef stood nearby Siegfried; a middle-aged woman with auburn hair, leaning against a counter as she spoke strangely casually. Lars had been planning on testing his seduction regardless of their gender when he eventually met the chef. His intentions weren’t so depraved that he planned on instigating something beyond observation, after all; but now he certainly couldn’t do it.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The sight was an appalling one. Siegfried’s method of eating was beyond abysmal, unlike anything he had seen before. It wasn’t on the level of simple bad etiquette or poor taste. His back was hunched over the plate possessively; he was practically leaning against and propping himself up on the counter, his bare hands grasping at the overwhelmingly abundant collection of food; meat from a pig, a cow, a sheep, potatoes, hash browns, a rotisserie chicken, gravy, bread, and perhaps more, all piled up with no attention to presentation.

As if posed to engulf all of it, his jaw unhinged until it was abnormally wide, while his eyes stared at the pile in voracious hunger. They only regained a semblance of sanity when turning to look at the visitor, Lars, who was watching in shock and awe. Siegfried momentarily stopped shovelling the food into his mouth and asked, “What are you doing here?”

What am I doing here? This is my kitchen! Lars didn’t know how to respond. He should be the one asking what the other person was doing, not Siegfried!

“What was that? Your jaw…” Lars muttered accusingly, looking between Siegfried and his chef. The latter person involved was far too unfazed by this.

“Lars…” Siegfried straightened his back, wiping the grease from his mouth. “Let me give you advice… If you see something like this, do not question it—turn around and calmly leave. Run if they start to chase. If it was anyone other than me in this seat, you would be dead by now.”

Lars felt unnerved by the implication of Siegfried’s words, but was emboldened when a warning was given to caution him instead of the alternative. He pushed further, prying for answers: “I want you to tell me what’s going on. What was that? What have you been doing? Why did you decide to stay? What have you found?

He then paused, looking at the chef who had yet to speak, “What did you do to her…?”

Siegfried scowled, “Why should I?”

Lars looked down at him, his expression becoming stern, “The voice spoke to me again after meeting Bennett, Mitchell, the priest, and you. I’m willing to tell you what it said.”

The two looked at each other, both wearing their suspicions on their sleeves. Siegfried faced Lars and lowered his body; his nails appeared abnormally long, sharper than knives, and scraped against the table as he asked demandingly, “What did it say?”

Lars furrowed his brow.

“Tell me what I want to know first.”

Siegfried scoffed, his face growing bored as his eyes drifted to the plate of food again.

“I can kill you right now, if I want to. There’s nothing stopping me.”

“Then do it.”

Silence ruled the air, both parties refusing to break eye contact.

Lars continued, “Aren't you going to? No, you can’t. Before you can even consider it, you need to know more about the voice. That’s what you’re interested in—and I’m the only way to learn about it. What is it about the voice that interests you? Do you know what it is?”

Siegfried harrumphed. He stuffed a chunk of indiscernible meat into his mouth, chewing on it without an ounce of elegance. Finishing it quickly, with ample relish, he said, “Information for information. Don’t push your luck, there’s a lot you shouldn’t know about. For your own good.”

Right… Explore but don’t die… Lars nodded, genuinely taking his experienced guest’s advice into consideration. He sat across the counter and gestured for him to continue eating. It was unclear whether or not Siegfried would heed him, if he had said to stop eating, so he simply gave permission as a formality instead.

“It’s my abnormality,” Siegfried started.

“Abnormality?” Lars had heard the word in many forms until this point, but it had a different feeling here.

“I have to start with that...?”

Siegfried looked as if he wanted to simply eat, finding the explaining of basic concepts to be borish. He slowly explained, “When living creatures experience various forms of corruption, there’s a rare chance of developing a mutation. We call this an ‘abnormality’. Sometimes it’s beneficial, sometimes it’s a hindrance, sometimes it’s a curse—but there’s always a drawback.”

“Is this appetite your drawback?”

“One of them,” he said begrudgingly. “There’s a convention of naming them. Usually, those who get one give their abnormality its name themselves, but I wasn’t bothered. A friend of a friend then came up with a name for mine—which got popular and became the official name of it.”

“What’s it called?” Lars asked, curious about it.

“Abyss walker,” Siegfried stated.

“What does it do?”

“I’m not telling.”

Lars furrowed his brow.

“Can’t you give a vague description?”

Siegfried scrutinised Lars, as if deciding which was less of a pain between not telling him anything or saying a little bit. He eventually revealed, “The name is fitting. It is to walk among the abyss, facing its corruption head on; which means becoming close to that of a demon.”

“Oh… so you have devil powers?” Lars exclaimed. In his memory, he knew someone who was a fan of a game series in which the protagonist was half-devil, utilising devil powers; so he wondered if it was something like that.

“Something like that,” Siegfried answered, before refusing to give any more information on his abnormality. It was reasonable to hide his strengths, thus Lars didn’t bother to ask more, moving the conversation forward.

“What is your profession? Are you affiliated with an organisation?”

“Are you interrogating me?”

Lars smiled, “Don’t answer if you don’t want to. I’m not trying to pry into absolutely everything, just as I hope you won’t do.”

Siegfried frowned, “We are, in layman's terms, called ‘hunters’. There isn’t an official name for us—our profession isn’t to be made known to the public.”

“Why can’t you?”

“There’s a lot of things people would be safer not knowing about.”

Lars nodded, “I think I understand.”

“It would be strange if you didn’t by now…”

“You said ‘we’... Do you have an organisation, after all?”

“We do… but I’m not telling you the name. Knowing it exists is more than you should know, already.”

“Right…”

Siegfried then leaned forward, “Well, are you going to tell me what that voice said? I’ve told you plenty.” He glared, his face didn’t seem as if it would respond kindly to refusal.

“Yes, I’m satisfied,” Lars responded. “It spoke when Bennett and Mitchell interviewed me. Three words were said: ‘Let them know’.”

Siegfried’s eyes widened. It was not difficult to see how the realisation dawned on him, like a light bulb getting switched on in his head. It was as if he had finally found the missing piece in a puzzle. He contemplated those words, a grave expression settling on his face, before fixing his attention on Lars.

His lips stiffened before asking, “Are you sure that’s what it said?”