The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 539: Agency

Dim cigarette smoke escapes into the dark moist alley. Water drops of exposed leaks flowed on slowly against the dirtied brick walls. Dressed in a coat and smart attire, the pungent smell of rotten rats permeated the darkened space. Over yonder laid civilization, the bustling streets of Melmark. Flashing lights of differing hues from the advertisements echoed onto the relatively silent alley. Few gusty enough threw reserved side-glances. Though it wasn’t illegal to watch, passing the multiple alleys of the deeper part of Melmark, else referred to as the red-light district, did feel morally bad. On one side the normality of a capital-city and boundless movement, while the other side, as if marching down the portal to hell itself, one came onto said Red-light district. Buildings, often apartment up top and bars on the bottom; held gambling den at irregular intervals. Those roaming the streets were criminals, hoodlums, and even murderers who’d escape the law.

‘This city never changed,’ thought a man in a deep and seeking voice, ‘-the police can’t do anything on their own. Public safety is left in the hands of the Hero’s union. The fall of the AHA didn’t bring any good for the public. The lives of heroes sure became easier; the focus was on saving the people... or so what some people thought would happen. The invasion of monsters changed priorities, the new heroes vowed to become strong and fight the invaders. Villains were able to merge into normal society without the watchful eyes of our protectors.’

“Sir, we’ve found him,” said a softer voice of which was definitely of a man.

“Good job,” said he flicking the cigarette bud, “-we’ve got him.”

‘Another worthless hitman,’ a well-protected door clicked to an unlock courtesy of the smaller man.

“Who are you?” asked a broad figure playing cards. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ Noᴠelꜰire

“Your nightmare,” said the little man vanishing into the room.

.....

‘He’s too antsy.’ Guns were pulled onto the taller man, “-deal with them already,” ordered he.

“SHOOT!”

*Knock,* five guards fell headfirst onto the table.

“Sorry about that,” apologized he wiping his hands, “-they’ve got strong necks.”

“Killing them isn’t going to do much,” brown-stained stairs led upstairs to hall splitting three rooms on each side. ‘-The smell,’ thought he, ‘-never gets any better.’ A dying plant laid in the corner; light came from a buzzing light-bulb. Stains on the ‘would have been white walls’ deterred to brownish red. Bullet holes, knife marks, the ax-head of a broken tool, ‘-assault’s more common around these parts.’

“PLEASE,” escaped a deathly scream, “-I CAN’T.”

“Is that them?” wondered the tall man.

“No, he’s in the last room,” they continued down the hall. Moans and groans, sometimes the loud echo of a slap and even breaking glass.

‘Alcohol,’ exhaled he, ‘-father, what is right and what is wrong?’

The smaller man leaned with ears on the filthy door, the expression showed attentiveness. ‘-Yes, it’s them,’ mumbled he.

‘Double homicide,’ the door barged open.

“DON’T MOVE,” screamed the smaller man.

“What’s this about?” returned a man dress in a suit and tie.

‘A new face around town?’ figured the taller man onto a lady hiding behind stained blankets. The carpeted floor absorbed the numerous time people puked, threw alcohol, and even urinated. ‘Wait,’ the mind churned and showed multiple possibilities, ‘-that’s the missing lady of the Dune, a girl born of a wealthy family.’

“Are you going to answer?” voiced the suited man, “-the time is valuable. If you want a piece of her, it’ll have to wait since I’ve got first dibs. Not every day you find a virgin. I paid good money for this piece.”

“Sir, what are your orders?”

“Break in,” said he through an earpiece. The smaller man nodded at expression. *Clash,* two figures dressed in black suits erupted inside the room. First, one bearing medium hair and in a white surgical mask grabbed the lady as the other restrained the broad man.

“What’s this?” fired he in ire.

“It’s our assignment,” said the taller man lighting another cigarette, “-hitman of the Jonia Familia. The double-murder of minister Kurt and the secretary Nia is a little much for a low-ranking mob group, don’t you think?”

“Who the fuck are you?” he fought to try and escape.

“Pipe down,” said another broad man, “-squirm more and I might not be able to hold back.”

“How much money do you want?” voiced he.

“We already got paid,” said the small man, “-don’t even dare tempt us.”

“Who hired you?” screamed he.

“The Jonia Familia,” sighed the tall man, ‘-this city is corrupt, everyone wants to kill another.’

“How?” cried he, “-I need answers, I WANT PROOF!”

“Shut up,” catching the jaw, “-don’t speak anymore,” he extinguished the cigarette on the man’s tongue, “-you’re all scum.”

“What do we do, sir?”

“Bag him up, the quest was to bring him either alive or dead. I don’t want to stain my hands.”

Almost telepathically, a dark-colored van pulled in onto the alley. “Transport is here,” said the one in a surgical mask, “-what do we do about her?”

“She’s got a bounty on her head,” said the taller man, “-take her with, should bring a good paycheck.” The three led the walk to the vehicle.

‘Melmark,’ paused at the mouth of the stairs, ‘-what beast have you become. What monsters are you hiding, the damned city who stole my only family. Father, was it worth it? Finding the truth, was it worth your life?’

“Sir, we’re ready to go.”

“Coming,” gently and elegant, ‘-if justice couldn’t bring father’s killers to court, I’ll have to take it in my hands. Alphia is controlled by the mob, the five conglomerates are in cahoots with Cimier or some other organization. Emperor Sultria VI isn’t going to do much.’

Cigar smoke filled a mildly lit mundane bar. Two rough guards sat surrounded by fairly mundane-looking ladies. The bar-woman kept cool and wiped whiskey glasses.

“Are you saying that you didn’t find him?” the scenery changed from alley to bar

“We found him,” said the taller man with legs crossed, “-still, the price is too little for our service. Paying with drugs doesn’t mean anything. The one thing we agreed on was cold-hard, cash, not this piece of shit.”

“You forget where you are,” said the lady signaling for hoodlums to point their guns, “-take the drug or get out.”

‘Pieces of shit,’ gritted he, “-fine. How about half cash and half drugs?”

“Now we talking,” she smiled and gestured at a guard who leaned into her face, “-do understand,” said she kissing said guard who left with a flushed face, “-money is a bit tight nowadays. The main-supplier is in trouble from the other familia. The drug routes are falling behind. Anyway,” a case came with Exa bills, “-here’s 25,000 Exa. I like how you look,” she leaned onto the table to boast her cleavage, “-how about we have a private discussion?”

“Once the money is exchanged, the deal ends,” exhaled he, “-bring in the man.” The broader assistant entered holding a bean-bagged figure. “There’s the hitman,” he stood, “-our connection ends here. See you, lady Jonia.”

“No problem,” said she a little disappointed, “-good job on bringing him here.”

“Come on,” said he to the broad man, “-let’s leave.” Crossing the doorway into the full-street, gunfire rattled the surrounding.

“Shall I head to the office, master?”

“Yeah.”

Stood on the Usu’s boulevard, at a more reserved and quiet part of Melmark rested a tall-building in the shape of a right angle. One of the offices was rented by a particular investigation agency. The warm surrounding of not having digital advertisement enchanted the building named Rivena. Up a worn lift to the third floor, ‘-we’re back,’ thought he opening the door.

Five tables, one overlooking the other four. Plant-pots, bookshelves, an always active fan. The base of operation for Codd’s Agency as shown on the brown-metal tag.

“Feels good to be back,” stretched the one in a surgical mask, “-how much did we get for that job?” asked she removing the cover. It exposed burnt cheeks from an acid attack. If not for said scar, she’d have been a beautiful lady in every sense of the word. The medium blond hair paired against the bright-blue eyes and oval face did give an air of belonging to Iqeavea. Her name, Camilia Hartford

“Keep the greed in check,” said the shorter man, a man in his early twenties. Dirty-brown hair, a sharp-jawline, pierced ears, brown eyes, pointy nose, and an accent of which reminisced nobility. The stealth expert of the group due to his lack of presence, Aki Hando, an ex-military officer.

“Oh, shut it,” fired she sitting at her table.

“I’m going to make coffee, anyone interested?” said Tensy Brown, a well-build man host to an innocent rounded face. The eyes were always in a squint from the overbearing cheeks. A shiny-bald head on which had the tattoos of a dragon, an ex-member of a hidden organization.

“I’ll have some,” said the taller man.

“Alright sir,” said he rushing for a small counter.

Lastly came the leader of the group, Odgar Codd, a clean-shaven well-spoken gentleman. He always wore a suit or formal attire, the professionalism never deterred. Out of the group, he held the most crucial ability of all, Flawless Deduction. A talent passed down from the late Engn Codd. Dichromatic eyes of green and blue, gelled back hair, and a cigarette at an arm’s length away.

“Why do you always pester the boss about money?” argued Aki.

“Why not, I need food to survive, come on, Aki,” voiced Camilia.

“Both of you,” echoed Odgar, “-mind your manners, we have a guest, or have you forgotten?”

“Sorry about that boss,” they returned in fear.

“S-sorry for the intrusion,” said the lady whom they rescued in the previous job.

“Why is she here anyway?” wondered Camilia dropping onto her office chair.

“Don’t bother with that,” said Tensy resting a mug with, ‘-I heart you,’ painted in full-pink.

“Thanks for the coffee,” her attention swapped to the computer screen.

“Here you go boss,” another mug went to the leader’s table.

“Thank you,” the curtains parted, “-young lady mind exchanging a few words?”

“O-ok,” she ambled past the menacing eccentric members.

“Do forgive my associates, they’re a rowdy bunch,” just as he said so, Camilia and Aki got into another argument.

“I-I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“Let’s get straight to business,” he puffed, “-are you Dian Paroth?”

“How did you know?” her eyes widened.

“Came across a missing person’s report a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my god,” she exhaled, relief had her shoulders slumped, “-I’m so happy.”

“Don’t be so carefree,” cautioned he, “-can you tell me what happened?”

.....

“I was kidnapped,” said she. “All I remember was going for an audition, next I was in a van being carried to Melmark. I spend most of the time inside a barrel. Thought I’d have been killed a long time ago. I’m surprised they didn’t ask for ransom...”

“Don’t worry about that,” said he, “-the ones who kidnapped you were probably good for nothing thugs. They steal girls all around the continent and bring them here for business. Well, what’s done is done. What next?”

“Might I ask a question first?”

“Go ahead.

“Who are you guys?”

“We’re primarily a private investigation agency. Though, it’s been rough to get any decent jobs. Could say we do odd-jobs here and there to make ends meet.”

“Then I’d like to hire your services.”

“Good,” smiled he, “-I presume we ought to send you to Odgawoan?”

“Yes, yes.”

“We’ll take a fee after the job is complete. Camilia, have her cleaned up and taken care of.”

“On it, boss,” she stood and led the lady out the room.

“Are we still on the clock?” inquired Aki.

“No, take a break. It’s enough for today,” to which the duo left without complaints. ‘-25,000 Exa and drugs, should last us a few months, I hope. Running a private agency is hard. A class-3 cyclone warning doesn’t even deter the folks into staying home,’ droplet-filled gust slammed against the windows, ‘-I want to sleep.’