The one who shot Rowan walked closer and slung his gun behind him. He kneeled and grabbed Rowan's hair to lift his head. At the action, Rowan spat blood on the man's face. However, there was a mask covering most of it. Blood only got on the man's eye.
"No, we're keeping this guy alive as well. Patch him up when we get there." The man dropped Rowan's head, the painter groaning at the pain of the drop. "If I'm right, that's Duke's little bitch."
"This guy? Heh-heh, heh-heh… What should we do to him? Surely, Duke never liked it if someone gets to fuck with his possessions." The second man whistled and looked around before wiping excess paint from his face again. "I should repay him for that plate, too."
The man who shot Rowan snorted and gestured at the rest who regrouped with them. "The building should have been cleaned up by now. Let's go. Bring those two. Let's piss off Pareidolia two times over."
…
Screams echoed in a dark room, and the only light cast on their faces was coming from the LED lights of a machine. It was even too weak to show a clear picture of the man on the chair. However, it was easy to see how a man was only sitting on a chair, waiting for the other person to stop. The operator of the machine released the lever to relieve electricity from the prisoner's body.
Blood dripped from the mouth, nose, and ears of the prisoner. He then hung his head for a bit before lifting his chin. "Please have mercy. I'll tell you what I know… but I really have no idea about that! I'm just a foot soldier! I go where they want to go, do what they want me to do! My superior has the plans, not me! Please! Please let me live!"
"Saying that only diminishes your use to me." The man sitting on the chair had a cane with an intricately designed head. He then tapped it against the ground thrice. "It seems we have nothing to take from him but his own life."
"W-Wait! Please! I'm telling the truth!" The prisoner begged the old man. He could only say that because the man's face was wrinkled and seemingly scarier if he was not smiling.
The operator sighed and was about to push a button when a double door opened from the side. It shed light on everyone in the room, the prisoner even visibly flinching from the blindness. Reeva walked in with a phone in hand. "Duke, Archie, a word outside please."
Duke frowned and glanced at the prisoner who could only breathe loudly and wriggle in the contraption holding him against a metal chair. He then walked with Reeva out of the room. The old man didn't move, seemingly not interested in what Reeva had to say.
Closing the door behind him, Reeva shot a cold glare at Duke. "It seems the stray dogs know they're already dealing with us, not the ghosts. Also, they are trying to take down the big families in the capital. One by one, some sons and daughters go missing without ransom. This is footage from across the street behind Bradshaw Enterprise."
"…how brave…" Duke glared at the tablet handed to him by Reeva. It was a record of how the so-called stray dogs were escaping with Scott and Rowan with them. "Has the police come to see the building?"
"Trig called it in after they made a sweep. Everyone else in the building is dead aside from those two. They must have tailed Scott Bradshaw to that place… and recognized Rowan somewhere." Reeva collected the tablet. "They won't be any ransom notes for the Bradshaw family for a while, but I'm sure they will come to insult you. I expect you to keep Rowan alive."
Duke didn't answer. He only turned away and walked back to the room where the prisoner was. Reeva followed him in and watched the operator grab the prisoner's face. Without any words to go with it, Duke whipped out his scalpel and stabbed the man.
The prisoner groaned at the hit, especially when Duke pulled the blade away. The latter then grabbed the prisoner's face again to make him look deep into those glaring glacial eyes. Duke smiled.
"Listen, I am a doctor, and I know where to hit you so you won't die instantly. My patience has run low." Duke squeezed the man's jaw, not letting the man look away. "Tell me every hideout of the Hellhounds that you know about. Don't make me patch you up and keep you dying for as long as a week. You don't want that for yourself, do you?"
At the side, Archie finally got up from his seat and leaned his weight on that cane he held. He then turned to Reeva who was on his tablet to coordinate things. "Has any of them found Rowan yet? They won't dare to put him somewhere Duke can find."
Reeva's eyes only looked shining because of the light of the tablet on his face. "Trig and Locket are following a trail. Arrow spoke about something… pinging… from a location. I don't think they're stupid enough to not take away their phones."
"Yes, but the stray dogs have their own phones. They must have left one on to keep their lines open for their bosses." Archie hummed before tapping his cane on the floor again. "Reeva, make arrangements. We can't leave Rowan to fend for himself for too long."
"What about the other guy?" Reeva smiled a little after realizing that the other person kidnapped was an enemy of theirs. "Should we leave him to die? Rowan would love that."
Archie only hummed and shook his head. "Sadly, I need that boy alive for a bit longer. I believe Rowan surely knows how slow torture is always an option. Go on, then. I have to go somewhere else as well."
"Will you be all right? Your children won't be with you." Reeva flinched a bit before receiving a caressing hand from the old man. "Archie…"
"Hush now, baby. I am not the head of this group for no reason. Go on, fetch our little painter friend for us. We still need to ask him for more things in the future." Archie only smiled before walking out of the room. The way he walked made it look like he was nothing better than a frail centenarian despite being decades younger than that.
Duke then walked to Reeva's side and sighed. He massaged his forehead. "Sir Wellington's moving on his own again. Do what you have to do first so you can have more time to worry about him."