I opened the double doors which led from the foyer into The Morningstar Hotel and Spa and was immediately bombarded with flashing lights and loud, thumping music.
The main room seemed to be a club and it was full to the brim with shifty looking patrons dancing, drinking and, in the case of the weird slime guy off to the left, blobbing.
I considered focusing on him to see what he was but decided against it. I'd already wasted enough time trying to get here so finding Bell had to be my only priority for the immediate future. I didn’t have time for distractions.
There was a bar in the corner so I headed in that direction. Bartenders always had the scoop on local goings on.
As Panda and I squeezed our way across the crowded dancefloor I noticed a person in strange samurai armour talking to a group of men in a booth. They had a wolf with them, which was odd. I hadn’t met anyone else with a familiar so far. Unless it was wild wolf they’d somehow trained? That would be cool as shit.
Why would there be samurai armour in Celestia? I wondered, the similarities between this world and mine are so weird.
Sitting to the far side of the bar was a shady-looking man in a trench coat. He seemed to be watching me out of the corner of his eye. Naturally I avoided him and made a beeline for the bartender instead.
“What can I get for you?” The bartender asked, placing both hands on the countertop and leaning in.
“Some information would be nice,” I began, “if I was looking to hire someone to say… precure a certain biological item for me, could that be arranged?”
Panda: Biological item?
Kaleb: I’m trying to be cagey, that’s how criminals talk isn’t it?
Panda: Maybe if they were buying chemical weapons…
The bartender scowled at me for a moment before sighing and shaking his head, mostly to himself.
“Look pal,” he began, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about procurement of Celestial Map pieces but I’m telling you, it’s not true and The Morningstar Collective don’t have anything to do with it. So kindly buy a drink or fuck off.” He turned away from me muttering and walked to the other side of the bar, literally as far from me as he could without leaving his post.
“Well that was rude,” I mumbled to Panda.
“Sounded to me like you hit a nerve,” he replied, “there’s definitely something going on here.”
“Perhaps I can help?” The trench coat wearing man asked in a hushed tone. He had moved closer to us and I hadn’t even noticed. We were practically touching when he spoke and I had to use all of my willpower to prevent myself from jumping back or punching him in the face in shock.
“Who are you?” I asked tentatively, looking up at his squared, action hero jaw.
“Most people call me The Reaper, but my friends call me Jack,” he replied casually.
“The Reaper?” Panda snorted, “what kind of moniker is that? Do you live in a retirement home praying on old folks or something?”
“…Or something,” Jack replied casually, a slight smirk twitching on his thin lips.
He was a well-built man. Not quite bodybuilder level like Sally, but muscle still showed through his trench coat and it looked like the kind of muscle that one attained through practical use rather than through lifting weights – like a soldier.
How do I know that? Is this the work of my perception stat going up? I wondered.
“Why would you help us?” I asked, keeping my eyes trained on him, he was obviously dubious.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“The why doesn’t matter,” he began, “what does matter is that I know where they’re keeping your friend and how you can get to her.”
“Where is she?” Panda and I yelled almost in unison.
A few members of the crowd glanced our way at the sudden outburst, including the odd samurai person in the corner. After a few seconds everyone went back to minding their own business though and I tempered my emotions, keeping my voice low.
“Where is she?” I asked again in a hushed and measured tone.
“This place is a lot bigger than most people realise,” Jack replied, “it has a subterranean level where the most… nefarious activities take place. Your friend is being held down there.”
“How do we get in?” I asked, growing more and more impatient by the minute.
“The subterranean area is only open to platinum members,” he replied.
I’d already spoken to the receptionist earlier about becoming a platinum member and he’d said that it was only available to capos or above within the syndicate itself.
“I can give you the membership,” Jack continued, “my employer is… affiliated with the syndicates and has higher level access than most. However, I will need something in return.”
Here we go, this is what he’s been leading up to, I thought.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“I can’t tell you right now,” he said, “let’s just call it a favour. I need your word that you’ll help me when the time comes.”
I looked towards Panda who shrugged. A favour could mean anything from spotting him a few gold pieces to helping him destabilise the local government, and from the look of this shady-ass dude it was more likely to be the latter.
Still, I didn’t really have much of a choice if I wanted to help Bell did I?
“Fine,” I replied, crossing my arms, “but if you ask me to murder children or do something that will hurt my friends then I’m out.”
“What kind of guy do you take me for?” Jack replied lightly, opening his arms in mock offence. “Take this, if you keep it in your inventory it will allow you access to pretty much anywhere in the hotel. That’s all I can do for you, good luck.”
Jack passed me a small business card which looked like it was made of paper but felt as hard as metal.
You have received a new item:
Platinum Membership Card
This card allows platinum level access to all amenities at The Morningstar Hotel and Spa. We hope you enjoy your debauchery; you now have access to the following:
* Penthouse suit
* Teleportation to other entrances (please see the receptionist)
* Basement level access
* Discount on syndicate hiring services
“That last part certainly sounds ominous,” I said as I finished reading the notification. “Let’s go find this basement level.”
***
Jack retreated back into the crowd after giving Kaleb the card. He kept the two in his sight line but used his abilities to blend into the crowd enough that the outworlder and his pet would think Jack had disappeared.
Well done Jack, the familiar and unsettling presence of Diako said, entering his mind. My plan is set in motion.
“What exactly do you want with that guy?” Jack asked quietly, moving to an empty booth so that people wouldn’t notice him talking to himself. He hadn’t mastered the art of telepathic communications yet. One might think that it would be as simple as thinking a response but it wasn’t, so Jack still had to speak aloud.
Let’s just say I need him for a future plan, Diako replied, for now Jack, watch him closely and keep him alive.
“Are you demoting me?” Jack asked, feeling the frustration rising within him. “Last week I was an international assassin and now I’m what? A babysitter?”
I’ve assigned you this role because your work has pleased me and you are well suited to the task, Diako replied, an air of annoyance seeping into Jack’s mind as he spoke. Complete this task for me, stay close to the boy, and I will give you further instructions when the time comes. Try to get into his good graces, perhaps you can engineer a situation where you save his life. I will leave the details up to you.
With that, Diako left Jack’s mind and he shuddered, flopping back unceremoniously in his booth chair, and sinking down.
After a long moment Jack sat back up straight again and began examining the crowd.
Where has he gone? Jack wondered as he scanned the area. Only moments ago his target was heading away from the bar but now he had completely disappeared.
Surely he hadn’t ventured down to the lower levels already? Even a complete amateur wouldn’t waltz into the lion’s den without completing any preparations.
Jack knew that he himself was a professional and was under no illusions that his work was far superior to that of mere adventurers but still… the idea of a single man and his Panda strolling right into the heart of The Morningstar Collective without any information was ludicrous.
What was he planning to do, stroll up to the first guard and ask about their newest outworlder prisoner?
On second thought, that’s exactly what a guy what that would do, Jack thought to himself with a gulp. After all, isn’t that the exact thing he just tried with that bartender.
Jack jumped up from his seat and pushed his way across the dance floor as he hurriedly made his way towards the lower levels. If he wasn’t careful his new assignment would be over before it even began.
If the panda guy wanted to get himself killed then that was no skin off Jack’s back, but he would not fail his mission because of the incompetence of others.