D7.
The shining Sector where only the wealthiest were allowed to live. Coin circulated through the streets like blood. Families and businesses with high purchasing power were considered kings amongst the less fortunate that shared the same cities.
It was a divisive Sector where walls divided the rich from the poor into various districts. The outskirts of the City of Diamonds rarely saw direct intervention from the hired arms of the Golden Index.
No. It would be more accurate to say that they were being paid off to turn a blind eye. Not all were loyal to Carpalis and her absence had only further divided her Atelier internally. It led to corruption within the cities long before her Atelier had an active role in circumventing crime with the City of Diamonds.
D7 on the surface was a paradise. But dig deep underneath the golden mantle and one would find a hell born from prestigious groups seeking to exploit those less fortunate. Coin was everything in the Nex Megalopolis.
Enough coin could even bring one into Atelier protection those this depending on an array of undisclosed checklists. D7 held one of the largest trading cities named The Alara Trade Hold. It was the heart of all trade within D7 and connected the highways from D6 and D8.
Due to the immense number of caravans, it was impossible to detect every cargo. Underground trade routes also ran beneath the streets like veins, and the hired arms dressed in the loyal red of the Golden Middle did not bat an eye even when uncovering cages of people. They were destined for one of three things. Slavery, ransom, or arguably worse – the Midas Conversion Procedure.
Indeed. The taboo of creating coins from the living was commonplace within the City of Diamonds. It had become worse since the destruction of the Eyes, making it difficult to track murderers without the use of [Tracking], [Detective] or [Hunting] magic from the already corrupt hired arms stationed there.
A burly man from the Golden Middle hailed down a caravan carrying bales of wheat. Once the giant chameleon stopped in their tracks, the faces of unassuming men and women peered from the slits, their steel drawn.
“Skip the highway with your load. Don’t know what’s what up today but there’s a lot of activity ahead.”
The hired arm flashed a card depicting a cross intersecting a gold coin – the insignia of an infamous Syndicate that had taken root in D7 since the beginning of the recent Atelier War.
Weapons lowered immediately. An understanding exchange of nods made it clear that they needed to exercise caution.
“Can we trust that that the side routes are safe?”
“No. Even the side routes are closed. Rumor has it that a Corrupted’s been rampaging the streets at night. It was about time someone was sent to deal with it.”
It was not uncommon to hear news of a Corrupted roaming the streets of the Nex Megalopolis. Their Syndicate – the Red Grin – could no longer operate at night due to the attacks. As a result, they were only active during the day, which unbeknownst to them made them far more identifiable.
But the fact that no one had yet waged war with them meant that they were not yet discovered.
“Adventurers? The Guild works fast in these trying times.” The man in the caravan spoke, a glint of suspicion in his eyes.
“I’m not so sure if normal Adventurers wear matching pocket watches and a white rod. Our side hasn’t been hearing much from each other earlier too. You have a healer on board, so best be careful –!”
A slip up.
There should have been no way for the hired arm to know what cargo they had on board – only that they were aware of its illicit nature.
Before the hired arm knew it, a spearhead was thrust through the gaps of the caravan walls. It impaled his helmet moments before a green cloud engulfed his upper body. The acrid cloud dissolved him until only his lower half was left to slump to the side.
The public execution brought shrieks as eyes fell onto the lifeless corpse.
“Tch. Should’ve kept your mouth shut. Quickly, lose sight of pursuers into the tunnels!”
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With the crack of the reins the chameleons dragged the caravan into the sidewalk, smashing through rows of trader stalls. People were lucky enough to have been warned by the screams, allowing them to leap to safety moments before their livelihoods were trampled before their eyes.
People fled as others swarmed the body. But it was already too late. The person was long dead. But the moment one tried to reach to snatch the jeweled blade of the hired arm – a hand emerged from the pool of gore.
“I was too hasty. A little more and I could’ve dug deeper. Perhaps even gotten information on where those rats plan to send our ‘healers’.”
The voice came from within the bubbling. Soon, a naked figure emerged as all eyes were captivated by her stunning appearance. Her skin was pink, and she had curled horns like that of a ram. Behind her back were tiny wings and a long, spear-headed tail.
Before things could get out of control – the woman’s eyes glowed a bright pink, hypnotizing all that had directly line of sight with her.
[Charm].
It was a racial spell used only by the Succubus which made those under its effects easily manipulated by the caster. The powerful spell was considered taboo and was easily detectable to punish wrongdoers.
So why did this succubus – who had disguised herself as a hired arm – commit such a crime?
“Leave us be. This place is now under the control of the Head. Understand the gravity of this warning. Heed it and leave immediately.”
When her body was fully formed, and as cloth magically wrapped her body, another figure from the crowd fleeing crowd emerged.
“Do it right the first time. Surely a Succubus knows how to manipulate people better than us innocent healers~” A marvelous woman with pale hair shouldered a long rifle.
A commotion could be heard further behind her, followed by the distinct echo of explosions – the sound of gunfire.
Walls were broken down as bodies were flung straight from solid timber doors. The force alone was enough to break all bones in their bodies, but they were not allowed to perish.
Immediately the same figures in black garbs hastily left the fancy restaurants, jewelry stores and neighboring luxurious stores with bodies dragged along the dirt like they were no more than a sack of filthy cloth.
Even a bag of potatoes was given more respect.
“Mangle their bodies. Do not let them resist. Execute those that will give our Hora Therapeutics team trouble.” The leader of these women was Black Wing of the Head, who held three golden feathers was the captain of her small team.
Immediately after relaying this the Black Wings executed more than half of the Syndicate members, which had occupied businesses along the highway to serve as scouts and informants.
“… You’re anything but innocent.” The Succubus grumbled, unamused by the violence these ‘Healers’ were capable of as the two approached the gathered Syndicate Members. “With that kind of strength the Head could’ve already taken them all out.”
“Please. You speak as if you know the Head herself.”
The captain scoffed, spitting on the faces of the bodies that were twisted and mangled beyond recognition. But they were still very much alive despite their forms, and her glee was shared by all Black Wings.
“The Head works in mysterious ways. She called this procedure a ‘honey pot’. Do you know why?” The Captain hummed ecstatically.
Serum L – Lacrimal. It was a serum that broke down the body until it was nothing more than a stackable, movable ball. It was highly useful as an integrative tool, and the Black Wings who thirsted for vengeance used it almost haphazardly.
“I’m unfamiliar with the term…”
“Insects such as these…” The Captain stomped on the hand of one of the few people able to resist Serum L, likely because not enough swam through his system. “… are drawn to honey. So the Head – in her most ingenious mind – created a pot of honey to draw them together. To nestle until they were ripe…”
“No – NO –!”
The man could not even beg for his life before her Talon was dropped onto his head, crushing it with so much force that steam began to rise.
“… to be crushed in one fell swoop.”
The Black Wing Captain smirked as blood splattered onto her cheek.
“Nothing is worse than fighting scattered insects, isn’t it? Your Succubus friends will be greatly reimbursed and compensated for handling the infiltration as ‘White Doves’. A shame that you botched your approach already. But we’re already several steps ahead to begin with.”
“Several steps? What do you mean?”
“Ten kilometers.”
The Vice Captain spoke up, executing yet another with the drop of her unnaturally heavy weapon. It sunk into the chest of another man, carving him like a cookie mold.
“We’re in an exclusion zone now. Everything within ten kilometers will not be able to escape. So it doesn’t matter how far they run or hide – we have them all precisely where we want.”
“… An exclusion zone…?”
“It does not concern the likes of you. All you have to do now is be a good girl and let us handle this. The Head has high hopes for us. So – get out of our way or you can join them.”
The bipolar nature of the Black Wings instilled insurmountable fear into the Succubus. Even though she was considered a Demon herself and had seen horrors beyond imagination, the Black Wings were on an entirely different level.
This was attributed to them being Healers. To see that this was what they were capable of underneath their shackles made them appear like wolf in sheep’s clothing. Once all had been mangled into balls and kicked down the now vacant highway to be recovered by the next team, the Captain slammed her long rifle into the ground, rallying them all behind her – flanking her like they were her wings.
“Girls. It’s time to show the world what a body of the Head is capable of. All arms on your shoulders. Heal the wounded with your bullets.”
It was overkill to send the Black Wings to strike a Syndicate. An Association was far more suitable for the task. However, this was too personal to leave it in the hands of another body.
Furthermore, this was a message to all in the Nex Megalopolis – that the Head will purge all evil on those no matter how great or small.