As Reeza delved deeper into the subterranean base, a noticeable change in atmosphere unfolded. Mana crystals, like scattered stars, provided gentle illumination along the walls and ceiling. Simple furnishings began to appear in the corridors and chambers, adding a touch of homeliness to the previously barren space. And ventilation shafts, crafted using earth magic, circulated fresh air throughout the complex.
Reeza panted as she sprinted ahead. Without so much as a sidelong glance, she hurried past the barracks, the kitchen, and the cafeteria that often doubled as a conference hall. Plush carpets, tapestries, and crystal chandeliers hinted at opulence as she neared the governing body of the evil syndicate.
As she approached an oriental sliding door of an eastern-styled house nestled strategically within the cavern wall, any lingering traces of apprehension within her veins were swiftly consumed by rage. With each step, the threads that bounded her rationality were incinerated like tinder to a flame.
Reeza's mind raced with questions. Where was her mother being held? What unspeakable acts had they subjected her to? And was Casimir, that treacherous bastard, truly planning to double-cross her after all she had sacrificed? Words failed to capture the chaotic whirlwind of emotions churning within her.
Just as Reeza's fingers hovered near the wooden door, they froze. From within the dwelling, she could faintly discern the hushed murmurs of a highly confidential exchange between the aforementioned bastard and his loyal guard.
Draped in a loose-fitting oriental robe, Casimir sat on a cushion with an angry scowl. He took a swig of sake before slamming the ceramic cup down on a floor table beside him.
"Ahhh," he exhaled noisily, the alcohol doing little to alleviate his exasperation. "Damn that arrogant bastard!" he cursed, hurling the cup into a corner where it shattered upon impact.
A small Florian girl timidly scurried forward to attend to the mess. With a delicate touch, she carefully replaced his cup with another. Casimir growled. He couldn't shake the feeling that the girl's actions were a subtle mockery of his outburst. For a fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of striking her down, but instead, his unpleasant gaze shifted to his stoic bodyguard.
"Dealing with nobles has always been a vexing affair," he argued. "But then again, what more can one expect from a breed of entitled, self-absorbed pigs who believes that the world solely exists to do their bidding."
"Nevertheless," Ranger, the typically reserved bodyguard, interjected, "we must make every effort to maintain a cordial relationship with them." His tone was firm, underscoring the importance of diplomacy.
Casimir scoffed, his disdain evident as he reluctantly conceded to the unpleasant truth. "Sadly, you're right. We're in desperate need of funding to see the brothel through to completion."
Discarding all semblance of etiquette, he seized the ceramic vessel from the attentive Florian and guzzled down the delicious beverage within. "Kahhk," he exhaled, savoring the taste. "It's crucial that I wrap up this project as soon as possible," he remarked with a grin, "and demonstrate to the boss that I'm deserving of becoming a franchisee."
A rare flicker of emotion danced across Ranger's face, a fleeting shadow of something ominous. "Agreed. "The sooner, the better…"
Casimir's gaze turned lustful as he glanced towards the sheepish girl standing nearby, a noticeable bulge forming beneath his garb. "Fortunately, we have the Florians as a rather effective bargaining chip," he mused aloud. "They're the perfect pawns for prying open the wallets of those pompous bastards."
CRASHHH!
Reeza burst through the wooden door with the ferocity of a charging Bullgator, her eyes ablaze with murderous intent as they locked onto Casimir. The heavy bastard let out a pathetic squeal of terror, his member shrinking back like a mimosa plant as the enraged woman lunged at him with a dagger.
"YOUUU!" She hissed, her dagger catching the ambient light as she raised it overhead, her aura pulsating with malicious intent.
Just as the blade threatened to plunge into Casimir's eye, Ranger effortlessly intervened, swiftly subduing Reeza in a disorienting flurry of movements that left her grounded and immobilized.
"Let me go!" she bellowed like a woman possessed, her teeth bared, her gaze contemptuous. "You monster! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
A furious snarl escaped Casimir's lips as he observed his ungraceful response. Dark lines etched across his forehead, his anger mounting to match Reeza's own intensity. In that moment, he begrudgingly admitted that the girl had succeeded in instilling a genuine sense of fear within him, and that fact made him livid.
With a strenuous effort, Casimir pushed to his feet and approached the fuming girl still pinned beneath his capable servant. Without hesitation—spurred on by his rage—he kicked out with a thick leg, nailing Reeza in the side of the ribs and utterly knocking the air from her lungs.
"How dare you!" he spat, delivering another kick, the merciless assault synchronized with his emphasized words. "After everything I've done," he seethed, delivering another punishing blow, "you have the audacity to bite the hand that feeds you?!"
Coughing violently, Reeza struggled to draw in a lungful of air, the consecutive blows leaving her completely breathless. The once fierce intensity in her gaze faded, replaced by a glaze of agony that mirrored the excruciating pain coursing through her body.
"Fine!" Casimir spat out, his breath ragged as he pressed his bare foot against her face, clearly drained from the physical exertion. "Since it's come to this, I'll confess the truth: right from the start, I never had any intention of setting you, your pitiful mother, or the slaves free."
Reeza's eyes flew open in shock, and Casimir let out a mocking laugh, his heel grinding into her jaw.
***
"Sir!" Gasped a lone guard, his breath ragged as he skidded to an ungraceful stop before two of his superiors—one with dreary eyes, the other resembling an ogre. "We've made contact with the intruders," he announced, "but… the advance team… they're gone, sir. Completely wiped out."
The dreary-eyed man tilted his head to the side with a dark scowl. "And yet… you somehow managed to survive?"
"Ah," the lackey stammered, his face paling noticeably. Taking a nervous step backward, he glanced apprehensively at the ogre, who cast a glaring gaze as he tore into the leg quarter of some unfortunate monster.
Sensing his impending doom, the lackey attempted to flee, similar to what he had done after witnessing his comrades being ruthlessly cut down by a golden-eyed demon. But, the moment he turned on his heels, a needle laced with poison swiftly found its mark at the base of his neck from behind.
PHIPP!
The man cried out in horror, desperately reaching for the silver projectile in a futile attempt to pry it free. But the instant his trembling fingers brushed the tool of his destruction—
THROB!
The wound ignited with searing pain, purple veins bulging beneath his skin like grotesque rivers of agony. In mere moments, the potent neurotoxin launched its merciless assault on his nervous system. Intense pain surged through his body, compelling blood to ooze from every orifice—eyes, nose, mouth, and ears alike. Writhing in unbearable torment, the man collapsed to the ground, his convulsions contorting his body as froth spilled from his mouth.
"Imbecile," the dreary-eyed man spat, too irritated to savor the kill.
"…There's not much job security in this line of work, is there?" said Daisuke in a deep voice as he emerged from the darkness without a sound.
DING!
[Ziddian | Lvl 39 | Rogue]
"You… you're that kid we thoroughly disciplined before," said Ziddian with an amused curve of his lips. "Leaving that fool alive just to tail him. Clever."
Daisuke's eyes glinted with malice, like a flame flickering in the wind. "I'm surprised you managed to recognize me behind this mask," he scoffed.
"I'm heartbroken! After that intimate encounter we shared before," the man gestured theatrically, recalling Daisuke's despair and anguish and the magnificent mask it etched on his face. "Did you honestly believe I wouldn't recognize you?"
Daisuke sneered, a swift flick of his hand sending a kunai whistling through the air. The bastard tilted his head just in time. The projectile narrowly missed his eye but grazed a few strands of his hair.
Ziddian's frown deepened as he straightened his neck, his posture stiffening as he squared his shoulders. "Looks like you still haven't learned your place from our last encounter."
DING!
[Brutus | Lvl 44 | Brute]
Daisuke glanced at the ogre-like man, observing his reluctance to engage in the fight. "I have a serious problem with corruption and authority. I'm sure you can understand."
"Cheeky bastard. What makes you believe this encounter will end any differently? Perhaps you've lost your mind."
"I'm in a hurry," Daisuke replied nonchalantly, his tone devoid of emotion. "So let's skip the chit-chat and get straight to the killing."
The man's eye twitched in exasperation, though he maintained a façade of amusement. "You're not much of an artist, are you? If you're seeking vengeance, shouldn't you at least savor every moment?"
Daisuke shrugged indifferently. "You sickos are just pawns in this game," he explained casually. "Killing you won't make much of a difference. But your boss, the bastard pulling all the strings—I'll take my time with him… and enjoy every second of it."
Ziddian's earlier enthusiasm had now dissipated, replaced by a palpable tension as they locked eyes. In the eerie pause that ensued, Petula cautiously peeked around a corner, her breath caught in anticipation of the impending confrontation. With a startled shriek, she tumbled backward, landing on her rump as the tension between them exploded into action.
Daisuke's eyes narrowed.
Ziddian's body tipped low.
With a fluid motion, the dreary-eyed captain crossed his arms, eight shurikens tightly clenched between his fingers. Without a moment's hesitation, he launched them forth, each projectile imbued with lethal intent. Daisuke reacted, an impeccable parry materializing a hexagon-shaped barrier that deflected all the shuriken.
But the assault was just a distraction. In the split-second it took to intercept the barrage, Ziddian had cunningly maneuvered behind Daisuke in a burst of speed and launched a familiar needle.
PHIPP!
Despite his incredible speed, dexterity, and the newly acquired sixth sense, Daisuke found himself unable to evade or intercept the projectile. With a precise strike, it found its mark in his upper shoulder, sending a wave of pain rippling through his body.