The mercenary headquarters carried its usual late-afternoon. The usual laughter, clanking of mugs, and loud chatter had settled into a quiet hum as people unwound from the day's work. Samson sat at a corner table, casually scrolling through his phone, while Sasha and Kieran exchanged remarks over a map spread across the table.
The door creaked open, and the room instinctively turned its attention to the entrance. A middle-aged man stepped inside, his posture stiff with unease. He had tanned skin, calloused hands, and a weary expression—traits that marked him as a farmer. His simple, dust-stained tunic and brown pants suggested he had come straight from the fields. His gaze swept over the room until it landed on the old man, seated at his usual spot, sipping his tea.
The old man raised an eyebrow, setting his cup down. "Hmph. Why do I feel like trouble just walked in?"
The farmer hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. "Sir, you might not remember me, but I go by Henrik Shaw. I own a farm near the Eastern Strawberry Fields."
The old man nodded, stroking his beard. "I remember. You used to sell your crops at the guild's marketplace. What brings you here?"
Henrik swallowed, clearly uneasy. "I wouldn't have come if it weren't urgent. I— I found something this morning. A body."
Silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain.
"Where?" the old man asked, his voice sharp.
"At the edge of my field. Near the wooden fence that marks my land's boundary," Henrik explained. "I was doing my usual morning round, checking the crops, when I spotted something in the grass. At first, I thought it was an animal that had wandered in and died. But when I got closer…" He shivered. "It was a person. A young man, maybe in his early twenties. Lying face down."
"Did you touch the body?" the old man asked.
Henrik shook his head. "No. I backed away and came straight here."
"Anything unusual?"
Henrik furrowed his brows, thinking. "The ground around him seemed disturbed, like there was a struggle. But… no footprints. Almost like someone swept the tracks away."
The old man's expression darkened. "Alright. We'll handle it. Stay here for now."
He turned toward the mercenaries gathered in the room. "Listen up! We've got work. Samson, Kieran, Sasha—field inspection. Bjorn, Rahul—you're on standby. Avik, I want aerial surveillance of a 600-square-foot area around the body. Get me a map."
Avik grinned, already pulling out his control pad. "You got it."
"Move out!"
---
Field Inspection
By the time Samson, Sasha, and Kieran reached the Eastern Strawberry Fields, the sun was high, casting elongated shadows over the neat rows of crops.
Henrik led them toward the far end of his farm, where the wooden boundary fence stood. There, amidst the green and red hues of the strawberry plants, lay the body.
A young man, motionless, half-covered by overgrown grass. He wore a black tunic and brown pants, and his boots were scuffed, as if he had been running. His face was turned away, his posture awkward.
Sasha wrinkled her nose. "No blood."
Kieran nodded. "That means either he wasn't stabbed or shot here… or someone cleaned it up."
Samson crouched beside the body. "Let's find out who he is."
Samson's Task: Examining the Body
Carefully, Samson rolled the body onto its back, revealing a pale face with dark hair and faint bruises on the neck. The man's hands were calloused, hinting at hard labor.
"Strangulation?" Samson murmured, running a hand along the man's throat. There were faint marks—not rope burns, but finger imprints.
Checking the pockets, Samson pulled out a leather pouch, a rusted key, and a small folded note.
The note was smudged, but a few words were visible:
"Delivery failed. Too dangerous. Orders unclear."
Samson took out his phone and snapped multiple pictures, sending them to Avik and Rahul for preliminary analysis.
"This guy was involved in something," Samson muttered.
Sasha & Kieran's Task: Searching the Area
While Samson inspected the body, Sasha and Kieran split up to sweep the area for clues.
Sasha used Wind Manipulation, extending her senses through the air. A soft gust brushed through the field, picking up faint disturbances.
"There was definitely a fight," she called out. "But someone erased the evidence. The air feels… unnatural."
Kieran, meanwhile, crouched near a tree and ran a hand over the bark. His Shadow Magic allowed him to sense lingering traces of movement.
"There was someone else here," Kieran murmured. "But the shadows don't tell me if they left voluntarily or were… taken."
Then, near the base of the tree, something caught his eye.
A dagger.
Kieran picked it up. The blade was black, its hilt wrapped in dark leather. No blood, no identifying marks.
He whistled. "Looks like we found a weapon. Not sure if it's the weapon, though."
---
Securing the Body
After wrapping up their search, the group regrouped.
"Anything?" Samson asked.
Sasha crossed her arms. "Evidence was erased, but the wind doesn't lie. There was a struggle."
Kieran twirled the dagger in his hand. "Found this. Might be relevant."
Samson nodded. "Alright, let's take the body back. Kieran?"
Kieran smirked and extended a hand over the corpse.
"Shadow Void."
Dark tendrils spread from his fingers, swallowing the body in an ink-like mist before pulling it into the void.
"Stored. Untouched. Now let's get moving."
With the body secured, the team made their way back to headquarters.
---
Evening: A Magic Rumble
The sun had long set, casting the headquarters in the warm glow of lanterns. Most of the mercenaries were winding down—some enjoying drinks, others tending to equipment.
Samson sat at a table, looking over the preliminary report Rahul had sent when Kieran dropped into the seat across from him.
"Hey, kid. Feel like a quick magic rumble?"
Samson's eyes lit up with excitement. "Now we're talking."
Kieran smirked. "I wanna see what your ice magic is like."
Samson grinned. "Alright."
They moved outside to the open training yard, where a few mercenaries gathered to watch.
Kieran stretched his arms. "No holding back?"
Samson cracked his knuckles, a cold mist escaping his fingertips. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Kieran vanished in a flicker of darkness, reappearing behind Samson in an instant. His hands crackled with shadow energy as he launched a quick strike.
Samson barely had time to react, twisting away and sending a wave of icy mist in Kieran's direction.
Kieran skidded back, smirking. "Not bad."
Samson summoned three jagged icicles and launched them forward. Kieran dodged the first two, but the third scraped against his shoulder, leaving frost on his cloak.
"Alright," Kieran laughed. "Let's turn it up a notch."
He raised his palm, shadows swirling into a black spear.
Samson narrowed his eyes, his breath visible in the cold. "Bring it on."