As Nick returned to his black desk, he found two reports had already been placed upon its polished surface.
One related to the Shadow Thief, whose exploits had recently caused a stir in the city, the other was a casualty report for the week. Both were daubed in ink, heavy with an uncomfortable.
The content on death report was a bit too long.
Nick frowned, creases deepen.
Should he praise his boys for their efficiency or bemoan the deluge of bad news they so diligently amassed?
He set down his ceramic fox mask under the cold glow of the desk lamp.
Slowly, he drew out his chair and settled into it. He hitched up his trousers a bit, crossed one leg over the other on the desk with a relax sigh.
A niggling sensation crept up on him, he noticed he might forgot something. His fingers brushed over the cool surface of the desk drawer and pulled it open. Inside, a Dupon anniversary edition lighter rested.
Indeed, while lighters might continue to flicker in the foreseeable future, there would be no more anniversaries for it.
With a subtle exertion of force, his fingers sparked the lighter alive. A crisp click echoed in the room, followed by the warm, inviting glow of the flame.
Raising the report slightly, Nick squinted at it, his eyes darken beneath his furrowed brow. The dry rustle of the paper filled the silent room as he turned the pages.
A single puff of his cigar exhaled, and the rich, earthy scent of smoke permeated the room.
As he read, the chair's leather creaked beneath him as he suddenly sat upright, dropping his feet to the floor.
"Someone get in here!"
He thumped the desk twice, his voice booming towards the door.
Then the wooden door echoed with two curt knocks before swinging open.
A burly man stepped in, dressed in black suit like Nick. His face was covered with a grizzled beard, and his broad shoulders filled the door frame. His eyes, quick and alert, scanned every corner of the room. A TEC-9 was clasped in his calloused hands.
"Yes, boss?"
Nick, biting down on his cigar, signaled the man to approach with a wave of his hand. His stark white teeth shone under the lamp light.
"Six men. Six men dead on that fucking little path?"
The underling looked at the paper in his hands and nodded.
"Yes, boss. Six men. No more, no less."
Nick's brow furrowed even further.
"All this for some information? Just to ask where the bastard came from, and we lose six men?"
His subordinate gulped audibly, replying with a cautious tone.
"Well, boss, we thought we could wrap it up quickly, so..."
"So where does he come from?"
"We don't know yet."
Nick leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.
"So, we lost six men for nothing?"
The man played with his gun strap, not answering directly, but instead grumbled in a near-smoky voice.
"The guy use guns in the city..."
"What?"
Nick cut him off, expelling a gust of smoke. He set the cigar aside on the glass ashtray, his expression hardening into a triangle of furrowed brows and high cheekbones.
"So the city caught our enemy, right?"
"Umm... no, not exactly."
Nick stared at him, waiting for answer.
The grey-bearded man finally lifted his face slightly to meet his boss's eyes. His voice was steady, almost mechanical as he explained.
"Well, it's like this, boss. Newford's been on the trail of our enemy, sure, but they haven't had any luck. Our intel confirms he isn't from any of the rival outfits we know. If you'd like..."
He hesitated, aware of his boss's growing frustration simmering silently beneath the surface.
Yet, dutifully, he completed his thought.
"He's our new enemy."
Nick heard all, his hand came up, clapping lightly. Retrieving his cigar, he bit down on it once again.
"Great."
With a deep sigh, Nick turned his attention back to the second report, immersing himself in the text.
The room was steeped in silence for a full five minutes, turning vibe as taut as a bowstring. His underling daring not to make even a peep of noise to distract him.
As Nick concluded his reading, his gaze shifted and he began to outline his plans, the tonel in his voice.
"Alright, I've got the gist of it," he started, dismissing the issue with a casual wave.
"Forget about the new enemy suff. I've seen his face. Just a damn kid, we've got more important thing... You, starting today, say something out loud that we've caught the 'Shadow Thief'..."
"We've caught the Shadow Thief?"
The burly man's eyes shimmered faintly, surprise rippling through his burly facade.
Nick merely nodded in confirmation, releasing a billow of smoke from his lips.
"You know what, your intelligence never ceases to amaze me," he said, a subtle hint of mirth dancing in his eyes.
He chuckled to himself, rising from his chair to give a pat on the broad shoulders of the bearded man.
"But remember, every one of your lives matters."
Exhaling, he continued to dish out his commands.
"That kid, find an opportunity to chop him into pieces and mix him into the concrete as building material. Not just him, we will build a palace in this city with the blood and flesh of all our enemies. Like we used do."
"Cool, boss."
The bearded man grinned, his hand on the door handle to make his exit.
But in that moment, their door swung open eerily, briefly exposing the outside before swiftly closing again as if someone had just entered.
Both men froze, instinctively they positioned themselves back to back, weapons raised - an subgun on one end and an ashtray in the other.
"Was that...wind?"
The bearded man stammered out, his voice trembling just a fraction.
"Shhh, shut up! There isn't even a window here, just listen..."
Nick cut him off, eyes narrowed in vigilance, his fingers tightly clenching a spore. He had noticed something amiss the moment he issued the order, the room seemed to be enveloped by a chill, his skin prickling in response.
Before he could process further, an unexplained sound echoed, the light bulbs shattered simultaneously, plunging the room into darkness.
"Gulp..."
The bearded man's swallowing unusually loud in the darkness, the flickering light of Nick's cigar illuminating the area sparingly.
But it felt off - the light only casting shadows directly before him, hence he took a deeper drag.
Then, He found himself staring into a woman's face.
A pale, not necessary but strangely beautiful, like a specter right out of an Asian horror movie.
"Wtf!"
Nick swung his ashtray wildly, simultaneously crushing the spore in his hand. But nothing transpired, his hand was left sticky and his only remaining option was to reach for the handgun on the table.
Gunfire rang out beside him, the flashes of light from the gun chopping the room into starkly contrasting areas of light and dark.
And then, silence. The gunfire had ceased.
Nick turned and saw his subordinate's fallen figure. He could feel a subtle throbbing at his temples, a strange emotion stirring within him.
"Come out, you prick!"
As if on cue, a figure emerged a few seconds later.
A girl with hair so blonde it was almost white, clad in silver attire, the space around her seemed to warp. Nick had seen such a sight before when crushing spores to summon merchants.
But for some reason, it was failing him in front of this specter.
Without a moment's hesitation, Nick fired off several rounds, but to no avail. He forced himself to calm down, his fingers trembling as he picked up the half-burned cigar from the floor, taking a long puff.
"What do you want?"
He managed to choke out.
The woman didn't respond. She merely walked over to the corpse of his subordinate, driving the heel of her shoe into the body with a ruthless stomp. The sound of the heel piercing the body was like a spear being driven into the flesh, a sound that grated on the nerves.
"You bloody monster!"
Nick blurted out, shocked and appalled. This move meant she was well aware of his identity. Yet, to his own disbelief, he was fearfully acknowledging that he was most likely her next target. It was a raw, uncontrollable feeling of impending doom.
Just then, he pulled open a drawer, revealing a red spore the size of a face basin with a string of grenades hanging on it.
"Die! You demon!!!"
He shouted, pulling the pin on one of the grenades. This was his special bomb purchased from the dark market to deal with awakened ones like her, a combination of the spore's ability to mute powers and the grenade's destructive force.
He lunged at her, the explosive clutched tight in his hands.
But once again, nothing happened.
"How..."
Nick stuttered, a sense of despair creeping over his features. He was expecting a burst of light, chaos, death. But instead, he found himself lying atop a corpse as the gentle light returned, washing over his face.
Nick shook his head in disbelief, his subordinate was good, looking on worriedly.
"Boss, are you alright? You've been shouting since..." he began, but Nick cut him off.
"Shouting? What was I shouting?"
He asked, confusion dripping from his words.
In a second, he answered it himself.
"Leave the boy alone?"