While one group was feigning death, another was causing it.
Five figures, covered in blood, were now relaxedly returning to their previous conference room.
Normally, seeing such a scene, the populace would start shouting and running away in fear.
Now, differently, drunk in the ferrous smell, the human predators felt at home in that disarming silence.
That was the only visceral medicine that made them calm for some time.
While dosing, the desperate shrieks made them more euphoric, the effect was exceptional.
The end of the recurring hobby was always the same: when a strong enemy was encountered, logic returned to their minds, just enough to be sure only the comrades, the surviving heroes, were left.
The remnants of the old group had effectively exterminated the whole Sloth district.
*Fuck, I lost myself there! *
