To Be A Killer
Phesx Caolia walked around the dark underground parking, watching other people move towards selective points. Phesx Caolia could see different groups of people moving to the nearest elevators. He picked one and went to it, waiting until he was alone to not share it with anyone else. It seemed like many others arrived at the same time, after all, it wasn't just him who lived outside this place. Or the only member.
As soon as he came out of the elevator, he walked to Instructor Cala’s hall. The door opened a little bit faster, but he still had to wait a couple of seconds before going in. Furthermore, the dozens of people walking by as he waited, much more bustling than before, looked at him like an alien animal in a zoo.
Phesx Caolia felt the darkness invade his eyes, and this time, the sensation of that dust falling on his face was clear and evident. ‘Did my psyche improve, or something?’
Phesx Caolia grinned. The vision before him swiftly dissipated from darkness to light, stunning his eyes a little. He realized this weakened his eyesight, not just clouded it. Otherwise, this little bit of light wouldn’t have even made his eyes blurry for half a second with just this lighting.
“Come and sit,” Cala sat cross-legged with his back several meters away from the wall on the opposite extreme. He sat beside a desk, with multiple lockers behind it, facing the bunch of Neophytes who would fill the hall in 5 months.
Phesx Caolia walked to the Instructor. When he was about 20 meters from him, Cala opened his mouth. “Stop there. Sit for now. I’m the first person you’re meeting, so we’ll have something to talk about before beginning. The others won’t cry too much if I take you away for 15 minutes more. But they might take it out on you.”
“I don’t mind… as long as I’m not crippled or killed.” Phesx Caolia said, shrugging. Instructor Cala looked at him before slowly speaking, “You seem to have attitude, but you’d use sir or ‘Instructor’ otherwise. This isn’t a palace, nor are you a simple kid meeting the elderly. If someone is to be respected by you, it must be meaningful, not ‘moral’.”
Phesx Caolia’s lower lip moved, about to say something, but he stopped and looked at the Instructor’s angry, small brown eyes. Cala looked at this and lifted his chin before smiling. He clapped his hands and rose his eyebrows, “Let’s begin.”
“Riverlye is a lagj organization, a secret organization. Do you know what that means? Lagj is for ‘low’. It is a little language from Twilight. Their people were the firsts in the world to truly amass talent and form the first secret organization, which was rapidly copied by every nation, except a few.”
“Nation… so, we belong to the government?” Phesx Caolia asked, barely changing his eyes. The Instructor didn’t even react and plainly said, “You know it isn’t. It would have been obvious to someone like you if we were.”
“No,” Instructor Cala shook his head, “At first, maybe. All secret organizations were developed when the GHH and HLS were fully established. It was meant to compete with other nations under the table, but it got out of their hands quickly.”
“Soon, many other secret organizations started popping out from everywhere, in every nation.” Instructor Cala stopped. Phesx Caolia narrowed his eyes before guessing, “At first, it was from the nations. But now, in every nation?”
“One of the few nations who didn’t initiate the movement with their national secret organization are Lýmoca and Cors from the west, and Knight Assembly Association and Zyckevele from the east. Either way, now, every corner of this world has a lagj organization… But only 1 or 3 hoog organizations per nation.”
“A Hoog organization is a word for… let’s say, ‘supreme’. It is elevated, and within reason, compared to a lagj.” The Instructor continued before letting the young boy ask more in between. “Not only are there many more members in a hoog class than a lagj class, they also have weaponry we can never hope to obtain without dire prices.”
“They have… more distinguished training and breaths, simply overpowering tens of peak lagj organizations.” Cala said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms before shaking his head. Phesx Caolia lifted his eyebrows in a soft motion, surprised by this comparison.
“Lagjs have several levels of recognition. The most famous are the strongest, those at the peak, while the smallest ones are like a puddle of a shadow, ‘droplets’. Ours is in the middle, a slightly less formed shadow.” The Instructor lifted his head and filled his lungs before continuing, “Lagjs aren’t solidified and all-terrifying, unlike hoogs.”
“Riverlye is specialized in assassinations, the wonders of killing, movement of targets, gathering information, and becoming a nightmare of a lagj organization to mess with. That is on purpose or accidentally.” Cala seemed proud in Phesx Caolia’s eyes, but he couldn’t blame the Instructor.
“A hoog is different. They ought to be powerful enough to cover an entire nation the size of Lýmoca, ANS, or something more feasible, like Merula and Wondurs. There’s usually 1 or 2 hoogs there, but in countries like Argopolas and the Pyot Island, there can only be 1.”
“Lýmoca has 3 hoogs. One of them is one of the most fearsome in the world, and are what Riverlye could at least hope to achieve. The other one is… a terror for any other secret organization, and self-declared as Lýmoca’s guardians from inner conflict and foreigners.”
“Extremists?” Phesx Caolia tilted his head a little to the left and blurted a question out. Cala chuckled, “Heh. I like it. Yes, they’re all a large pill to swallow, but no different from us.”
“As for the other, siiiigh…” The Instructor faced the ceiling. Phesx Caolia squinted his eyes and grasped his chin. The Instructor continued, “Not much is known, but they’re powerful. Whatever they are, they are a hidden danger, maybe even more than the other 2. Especially the first.”
“You won’t know too much even after becoming an Artista. One would only have a chance to see a hoog organization member at work if they are an Instructor. The Head has treated with some for the last 2 decades we’ve been active.” Cala stopped here, narrowing his eyes.
“Listen here,” the Instructor looked at Phesx, turning the atmosphere a bit somber. “Lagjs organizations usually last 30 years. They either die around that time or before, or are on their way to become hoogs.”
“Here’s a question for you. If hundreds of years have passed since the Humane Key was created, why is there only 3 hoog organizations in the large nations, and they are all more or less the same after so long?” Cala tested Phesx. He didn’t know anything, so the young boy just replied, “Hoogs are that powerful, and have contact with the governments.”
“Yes. These 3 hoogs in Lýmoca are the same since the moment they first came to exist and form in Lýmoca. It should be the same for ANS and Zyckevele, among other powerhouses. Some of them might directly work with the government, and not just exchange information.”
“I understand, Instructor,” Phesx nodded, also sitting cross-legged and feeling his body instinctively become serious. A strange occurrence without immediate fatality danger involved.
“In Riverlye, there are 4 different positions. Neophytes consists of the most. Thousands of new Neophytes are invited to Riverlye every year. Not that many, around a few thousand. A small portion of them are ‘dealt with’, while a certain proportion become Artistas. The rest repeat through the years.”
“Artistas remain as the lowest combat force, and the main, of Riverlye. Usually, it takes 3 years for one to be eligible to try for the Instructor rank. There are more than 13,000 Artistas currently, but there were 10,000 a couple of years ago. How many do you think die every year?”
“…” Phesx Caolia was startled. Cala smirked before explaining a bit, “Not all are Lýmocan. If they were, a notorious decrease of population would be seen everywhere in the world. Many come from other countries, or were raised here before finding their way to one of our doors. Still, Lys move faster in the ladder, higher, and survive a little longer than the rest. I’d like to say it’s the same everywhere else, but I’m at least patriotic that way.”
“Instructors are what you’d call the person leading all Artistas. Whenever there’s an Instructor involved, the mission will be difficult and bloody. More than even Instructors dare to mention. We have a few hundred of those. But there’s only 1 Head. You got that?” Cala nudged his head.
Phesx Caolia nodded, “Neophytes, Artistas, and Instructors. What about becoming the Head?”
“That’s only worrisome for Riverlye when the leader decides to step down for whatever reason. If one is too old or weak, or is in someone else’s eye. Gerardo Tellez will be retiring in 5 years. Guess who is the only ticked for those who have the only chance to aspire to vie for that rank?” Cala looked at Phesx Caolia like he was gold.
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“Me?” Phesx Caolia politely followed his game. Cala vigorously nodded, “You, a single Neophyte, doesn’t matter. However, your body is different. As a Preutian, that makes sense. But yours can heal. It is barely worth noticing, but it happens. And you’re allergic to medicine. But that’s not enough. You had the breath as soon as you started it.”
“What’s that? The breath, I mean,” Phesx Caolia’s eyes shone a bit, and his eyelids fell halfway. Cala nodded with a slow blink of his eyes, “That’s the reason. It’s one thing to guide one’s breath with our digits, but you did it by mistake out of your own will. You’re lucky you didn’t do it to your neck.”
“Yeah…” Phesx Caolia spoke amidst a breath, frowning and looking down. Cala finished, “As an Artista, you will have time and money to craft your way to something. You’re good at craftsmanship, so you can try that if you want. It doesn’t matter if you’re rusty or unconfident.”
Cala added the last phrase when he saw hesitation in the young boy’s eyes, shutting him. Then, the Instructor stood up before commanding Phesx, “Get up. Show me how you stretch.”
Phesx Caolia followed indications. He showed the simple stretches he’s been doing and improving since he was 12. Cala stopped him after a minute before pointing at the joints connecting his limbs to his torso. “You’re going to work these with me for as many weeks as needed.”
“When we’re done with them, and you can move your limbs without needing force behind them, you’ll start learning terrific killing moves with Mel. But I will show you how to regulate your blood flow in certain areas. You’ll increase your survival instincts and chances with me then.”
Phesx Caolia looked at the Instructor. Then, before he could ask anything, Cala made him stretch in a strange position with his right leg stretched to the side. His left elbow bent and arching downwards as his right arm took the same position, but arching upwards. His forearms were against each other. He had to keep them straight, so he started trembling.
“When you can go into this position and face both sides seamlessly, able to do so standing, hanging, and while a knife goes through your hands and arms, you’ll be ready for the next step.” Cala described before walking out.
Phesx Caolia could only gulp as he felt sweat build around his back and armpits soon after.
… 4 hours later, he exited Cala’s hall and weakly walked to Mel’s hall. He was scared of her, but remembering Beni’s words, he hoped that Instructor won’t destroy him.
Entering her hall, Phesx Caolia immediately walked forth before finding himself walking in the dark for tens of seconds. Then, the Instructor’s voice sounded around him, moving as he did, surrounding him where he least expected it each time.
“Attacking from the dark isn’t as exciting as attacking in broad light, with all eyes on you. It is also not as efficient. You’ll effortlessly kill any civilian, even a soldier of the special forces, with my training. But with my methods, you’ll kill your peers, know when to wait until you can kill someone better than you; and if you’re lucky, you’ll learn how to survive when all odds are against you… not by fleeing, but killing everything else beside you.”
Clap. A sound emerged before Phesx Caolia’s face. It was low and not impactful, but Phesx Caolia abruptly blinked and jerked his head backwards. When he immediately opened his eyes, he saw a needle caught by Mel’s hands. They caused that clap just now. Mel stepped aside and showed him the small boxes on the other extreme of the walls.
“You’ll be questioned here. If you answer incorrectly, you’ll be stabbed by a needle. Just like these,” Mel looked behind Phesx. Following her eyes, Phesx Caolia looked at what seemed a dozen needles for each step he had taken, fallen to the ground. He could swear each pile of needles was where he just walked before!
‘She caught them and dropped them? And yet, I heard nothing…’ Phesx Caolia looked at Mel with respect and caution. Even the needle in her hands wasn’t something he sensed, but the clap of her hands stopping it in the air that made him flinch. ‘She did that to show me.’
“Now,” Mel walked 1 meter away from him before turning towards him. She played with the needle’s tip between her teeth as she began, not giving Phesx time to prepare. “I’ll ask, and you respond, either with words or gestures. Hand signs work, too. Just respond, or it’ll be a wrong answer, and a needle will shoot towards you.”
“Don’t even think of running. If you move more than your mouth, multiple needless will shoot. Have you understood? Let’s start. Which are the human body’s weakest points.” Mel placed her left hand on her hip before asking.
Phesx Caolia gulped before poking at different places of his body, naming them in a low voice while Mel tilted her head and crossed her shins. Tapping the tip of her shoes on the floor, she watched and heard Phesx Caolia as he aimed at his under nails, eyelids, and the thin skin below his lobules. Phesx pointed out everything he could think of.
Mel nodded after he waited in silence for 7 seconds. She seemed a bit impatient. Her eyes narrowed as she asked, “How much force is needed to break a neck without employing all your strength?”
“Gulp… Enough.” Phesx Caolia replied after seeing those scary black eyes. Mel grabbed her needles from both ends before tsking with her lips. She asked, “What amount of force is it needed to snap a person’s neck exactly?”
“Enough…” Phesx Caolia repeated his answer. Mel narrowed her eyes a bit. She asked again, “I need a number, a quantity. How much would that be?”
“Enough.” Phesx Caolia blinked before repeating his answer. In his mind, he wasn’t wrong, even if it was just the same answer…
“…” Mel rapidly tapped the tips of her shoe after hearing him for the third time. Then, her body halted, and she smiled as she asked, “What’s my family name?”
“…Eh?” Phesx Caolia was stunned. Then, he didn’t even know when, what, or how; but a piercing sensation entered his left chest, just above his heart. He ignored Mel’s wide smile with pearly white teeth shining and looked down at his chest. A 10-inch-long needle stabbed his chest, but only half a centimeter stabbed him?
Cliiink~. The needle heaved down from its rear, dropping onto the floor as Mel clapped. Phesx Caolia endured the pain with a distorted expression before looking at her. Things were just starting.
… 4 hours later, with many breaks every 15 to 20 minutes of the same amount to cool down, Phesx Caolia exited Mel’s hall sweating and slowly limping. The Artistas looked at him, grinning and offering a few words while cracking up.
Struggling, Phesx Caolia arrived at José’s hall, ignoring everything else like in a dream. He didn’t know if he should feel glad to begin this session, as he resulted badly injured last time. Entering the hall, the darkness lasted a bit more, maybe because he was tired.
“You’ve arrived. Calm down and relax…”
José’s voice entered his ear rapidly. The same elegant voice calmed his nerves. Phesx could feel his body relaxing, but it also warmed up from the previous cold of his instincts thinking he was in an alarming state. Either way, his eyesight returned to normal and saw José before him.
“Sit,” José turned and walked elsewhere before sitting cross-legged at the side. There were wide cushions to sit comfortable, unlike before. Phesx Caolia sat in front of him. The lights started dimming, and a glass encasement descended from the ceiling.
When Phesx looked up, José spoke, bringing his attention away. “What you’re going through isn’t the usual for other Neophytes. You’re an exception. One that needs to be forged sooner and better. Do you know what Riverlye saw in you?”
Phesx Caolia felt his face, shoulders, and skin relax. He blinked and breathed normally before saying in a confident tone with his voice. Semi-broken and soft, “To kill.”
“To kill, to obey, to do things that aren’t good, nice, or morally acceptable.” José responded with a blink of his eyes. Phesx looked around, where the glass around him kept him in place but didn’t trap him. He could jump over it, even in this state.
“From the moment you found dust in your bloody eyelids, you were seen as one of us. Of course, you’re not one of the Artistas, and after you officially become one, you’ll need to be one spiritually. Like the rest, you’ll go through a test, just like you did after leaving the headquarters.” José was slow and elegant, bringing more calmness to Phesx, who closed his eyes and waited to hear more.
“Anyone in this profession becomes tired of it. So how do we stop that thinking and those emotions from emerging? The mind. Just like our bodies can do things we couldn’t before, our mind strengthens. Think back to the moments of peace you’ve had. The torment you’ve suffered. The pleasure of lust and sloth. Then breathe.”
“…” Phesx Caolia frowned as he evened his breathing and kept his guard up. When he heard movement in front of him, he opened his eyes. José had stood up. Looking up, he saw José looking down at him. “Don’t be stupid now. Breath isn’t to hurt or defend yourself. You won’t gain force to punch cars meters away, or defend your skin from bullets.”
“It’s a force of movement. One of nature. It is unlocking your body, its potential, and protecting it from the self-harm you would suffer when you work with it. Bions are for the former. If you just want power, then modify your body. If you want to learn what not even 0.1% of the population has the opportunity to see, breathe.”
“Huu…” Phesx Caolia’s body trembled before falling utterly calm. He saw nothing, only darkness. José’s words echoed in his mind. “What we call the ‘breath’ is simply the manipulation of our bodies. Your speed and strength is locked by your body so you won’t harm yourself. You’ll learn to let go of those restraints with Bael. But for now, you need to shut up, listen, and suffer.”
“Use this time to understand. Soon will come the day you do the ‘devils proud’ and ‘the gods cry in joy’. It doesn’t matter what it is, we become perfect tools for murder and mayhem. But the world will turn into our stage in return. Nothing gives without taking.”
Phesx Caolia felt his surroundings faltering. José’s voice became less and less real. José’s words echoed inside his head from ricocheting everywhere, “Continue. I will wake you up when the time is up.”
… 4 hours later, Phesx Caolia woke up alone in the hall with the sound of the door opening and closing. He looked around him, a bit dizzy, before feeling like his lungs were bloated. It was like he never breathed until now, always living cornered to the side.
Standing up, Phesx stretched his body. His bones snapped, pleasuring him with the afterglow before walking out of the room. He felt the cream Mel gave him for his injuries still cooling around his stab wounds. Feeling like it was more a duty than something he ought to do, Phesx walked to Bael’s hall.
In the hall, Bael simply had Phesx sit cross-legged and focus on every part of his body that Bael touched. Bael gave him a few minutes to focus wholeheartedly in said spots. If Phesx failed for just a second, he would know it and tap him on the same spot again, only harder.
Phesx Caolia was very bad at it, with at least 3 necessary taps to become fully concentrated. Every other tap above the third made him feel the next would penetrate his body and truly harm him. Yet, when he woke up 4 hours later, he didn’t even have a bruise anywhere.
Was that breath? The weapon Bael used? Or an illusory misconception, a trick of the mind with the body and his nervous system? Either way, Phesx Caolia returned ‘home’ without light in his eyes, wanting to sleep, but only having 4 hours to sleep and eat for the rest of the day. And then, to return to Riverlye again…
…