The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1076

Chapter 1076: “Dear Boss” [19]

“Cruse, Elize. The coming conflict might very well result in quite a lot of mess. Cruse, have Vengeance handle the Dear Boss Killer affair. Get in contact with the appropriate entities. It’s come to this, I swear, nothing’s ever linear. Spur of the moment actions, nothing’s ever predictable. Elize, you stay – I’ll need a partner,” her form switched into a gray cat with white stripes, greenish pupils, and pink-colored paws. She climbed onto his shoulder, and he looked at Cruse, “-Father,” he added, “-no matter what happens, fight. If it comes to defeat, leave it to us,” he gave a sinister grin, “-you have allies in powerful places.”

“I know, and they’re too powerful for my taste,” he chuckled.

“Says you,” he joined in the laughter. Vengeance came from the ground, “-orders, master?”

“Follow Cruse and tie up loose ends,” he hung on Vengeance’s shoulders, pulled him aside, and whispered, “-how was Umi?”

Vengeance sparked a satisfied grin, “-she’s adequate in bed.”

“Good,” a warm slap on the back, “-I’ll catch you tomorrow.” A gale gathered – thunderous clouds moved. Flashes followed by roars; the weather worsened. A hurricane was born to the northeast, it moved quickly southwest – its eye lined parallel to the continent, the trajectory was an omen. Curtains flapped. Bottles and spoons fell, and the roof whimpered with creaks and fatigued cracks. A fierce aura gathered at his feet. The nails and ears sharpened. The crimson-tipped silver hair levitated, he removed the glasses and firmed with the sharpened canines. A demonic tail elongated; the visage sharpened its contours despite the natural resting curves being sharp. The outline of a halo materialized. The pressure at his feet – black smoke; a sort of muck, touched a well-ordained flower – it withered immediately. Elize held on comfortably. He took one step up, the wings stretched, ‘-this is what I call fun,’ a slightly sadistic grin took over the resting face. Sparks of purple went up and down his person.

Cruse and Vengeance held their chest, a flap, and the hefty presence disappeared. The snap-like change made Cruse lose balance, “-honestly,” he caught himself by holding Vengeance, “-my father is rather crude.”

.....

“He’s weird,” said Vengeance in a dysmorphic tone; it sounded like multiple people speaking at once, a bizarre discordant harmonization, “-who would accept the pain of an entire population just to create a halfling?”

“I mean, you are father’s weapon of choice.”

“No, I’m more of a protector. You see, Cruse, I act like the shield to his offensive prowess. Judging now,” the tone woefully lowered, “-master’s not going to win.”

“The fight,” they walked to the window, “-it’s against Gophy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I don’t think master could try and harm one of his own. I mean, you heard of how the previous incarnation died, he bit the bullet to save his family. I wonder now, what will happen?”

“Doesn’t affect our duties,” Cruse surmised, “-let’s tie up the loose ends.” It would be a long night, both for them and him, a reckless man of much potential heading into battle without preparation.

Vengeance stood under a run-down apartment building a few blocks from the harbor; compared to the slums, this was a five-star hotel. Shattered windows, cracked by bullets, iron gates, and an old, smelly owner, sat at his desk with a buzzing bulb. “-Cruse,” the voice firmed into one, “-sure you are the man for this?”

“Yeah,” he side-stepped from Vengeance’s shadow, straightening his tie and running fingers through the well-combed hair, “-leave it to me,” he stopped at Vengeance’s sudden stoppage, “-what are you staring at?”

“A drawn cursed blade won’t do damage lest the intent is to kill. Tis akin to slashing at an opponent with a dulled sword. To fuel the strength of the man hailed as the Devil, one must actively fan its flame, for when a strong enough wind blows, the amber will be snuffed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, my bad,” he cleared his throat and entered the apartment’s yard. Yard, for it, was but a run-down lot where weed and garbage settled. The owner, the smelly old man, threw his heavy regard out of the painfully yellow room side-room. He lowered his head and narrowed, the prominently crocked nose landed upon the duo, “-come in,” he smiled and revealed quite the lack of teeth.

Vengeance faded into a mist, Cruse’s walked to the window and tapped, “-how much?”

“Excuse me?”

“How much old man,” he flashed a bundle of notes.

“Depends,” the old man gestured a washing motion and inched forward with a humped back, “-what are you after, sir?”

“I need to meet someone. Goes by the name of Odgar. Does the man live here?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Give me his room number.”

“Are you sure?”

He threw a few hundred exa notes and walked towards the door. The owner rushed out of his office and opened the main door, Cruse scanned the geezer and entered. The gluttonous weight of a man stomped outside; he groveled in the dirt for notes Cruse purposefully let fall. The stairs weren’t even straight, the smell of rot and pestilence; brown stains, perhaps blood, broken doors – break-ins, and a carpet sullied with vomit and piss. A lady sat in said puddle, her dirty red dress strap hung off her shoulder and revealed her breasts. She shivered. Her hair seemed to fester an ecosystem of bugs of her own. Listless, vacant hallows rose to the strange man, she foamed at the mouth and hissed. The ajar door beside which she sat harbored muffled screams and the sound of lashes. ‘-The commonness of humanity’s filth,’ he shrugged and climbed further. The more the levels increased, the better the corridors looked. Third-floor, final stop. The corridor was devoid of carpets or light. A small opening at opposite ends gave light from the outside. He walked – each step resounded like a bell. *Knock, knock,*

“Who’s there?”

“A Haggard.”

Sudden movements, stumbling and crashing were heard, “-a Haggard,” a middle-aged man opened the door with a gasp, “-did I hear correctly?”

“Yeah, I’m a Haggard,” Cruse brandished the family’s signet ring.

“My apologies,” he widened the door, “-please hurry inside.” Odgar hung at the door with a studious look, “-no one,” he locked and toggled the lights.

“Hurricane Toria’s will pass by Istra early morning tomorrow. It is advised for the population not to leave until the storm has passed. For those unable to find refuge, shelters will be opened at the following locations,” said the television flashing onto piles of newspaper, reports, and scribbled notes scattered about the room.

“Excuse the mess,” he lowered the volume, “-the DBK case is interesting.”

“I’ve come to speak on the matter.”

“Pardon?”

“I must ask that you leave the case unsolved.”

“How?”

“I understand the ECA has taken a personal interest in the case. Without a proper conclusion, I doubt the people will feel satisfied. Allow me to close the loose ends. It will be my pleasure to handle the political conflict.”

“Do you know the killer?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a simple conclusion if one knows where to look. Odgar Codd, I ask for your agency to not waste time on a one-and-done case.”

“...”

“You’re a logical man, thus, there is no need for threats. Allow me an introduction,” he courteously bowed as would nobility in court, “-I am, Cruse Haggard, son of Igna Haggard, the King of Hidros, else known as the Devil of Glenda. Seeing as my age, I haven’t made my entrance into the world of nobility. We rather keep our family affairs confined, yes, now that the Prime Minister’s in charge.”

“I don’t mind dropping the case,” he sat, “-as an investigator, my curiosity must be satisfied, otherwise, I won’t have the heart to leave this place. You say you’re the son of the Devil. I see you bear similar traits – you also bear a strong presence. Not biased to throwing your weight and money around. Tell me, Cruse, why should I stop my research?”

“Simple,” he smiled, “-it’s best not for you to have a stain on your immaculate career. The DBK affair is cursed as it is tainted. Whoever gets involved will eventually find themselves at the mercy of the Reaper’s scythe.”

“Curses, I need more tangible-”

“If I say the case is cursed, it will be cursed. Odgar, the identity of the killer is here,” he held a small drive, “-the mystery of the DB. Tell me, would you like to continue the charade?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” the events clicked, “-is the killing related to y-”

“A Wiseman knows to shut his mouth. We have two options,” Cruse sat opposite Odgar, “-either we stand in, stop the affair, and air out dirty laundry or we take a page out of Istra’s custom of corruption. Give the people a story they crave. A final hooray from the DBK.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

Far in the distance, past Cub’s bridge and into the Duquant -owned apartment, a lady dressed in lingerie had her passion satisfied by a strong-headed man, “-amazing,” she melted, barely able to use her limbs much less stare into the eyes of her tormentor, “-y-y-y-y...”

“Another round,” she closed the showers, “-you won’t say no, will you?

“Umi,” Vengeance sat on the balcony, “-that was the last time we bonded.”

“What?”

“I’m only a distraction. You won’t companionship within the heart of someone as tainted as me. I’m no one special, I hail from the slums and I wouldn’t want-”

“What are you saying,” her pitch dropped, her hands reached for the nearest knife slowly, “-are you going to abandon me?” the blade pressed against his neck.

“Umi, who do you think you are?” the void flame engulfed the weapon, “-HOT!” she dropped it and fell on her bottom, “-you’re worthless,” glared, “-a pathetic queen whose appetite for sex is unmatched. Remember, I saved you. You’re nothing without me, you would have died if not for me. Tell me, Umi, what do you want, yeah, what do YOU want?”

“Don’t act high and mighty,” she snarled, “-you’re a pitiful existence without a place to call home. I gave you comfort and pleasures no other women can. So, why are you leaving?”

He got on one knee and rose her chin, the angry expression was quite daunting, “-because my time has ended. I don’t have much time left. Umi, before I disappear, I want to give you a gift, not temporary, not the nights we shared, no, I want to give you something concrete, something lasting. You’ve fallen from the throne, no longer a queen, only a servant of someone unworthy of thy attention.”

Her lashes fluttered, “-this is why I like you,” she wrapped her arms around his back, “-you know my deepest desires. I’m filthy,” she pulled him onto her, “-I’m yours, do with me as you want, I’m a filthy little whor-”

The doors barged, “-my lady, I bring Uri-”

Vengeance looked up and laughed, “-Svipe, how is it?”

“My god,” he gulped, “-do you two ever take breaks?”

“Mothers?”

“I’ll be done in a minute,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

“Rude to talk with your mouth full,” another shower and they sat at the balcony, Uri’s fear was palpable. ‘-Master did a number on her,’ Vengeance examined, “-Svipe, wasn’t she supposed to be wanted by him?”

“Oh, the master had a business trip.”

“Off to see his mistresses,” added Umi with a platter of drinks, “-have yourselves drinks.”

“You sure?” they looked at the thunderous clouds, “-the weather’s only going to get worse.”

“A little wind never bothered anyone,” she winked, “-Uri, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Feelings not the same,” she cringed, “-mother, you’re filthy.”

“Don’t kink shame lest thee’ve tried,” added a playful Svipe, “-we need a serious talk about Istra future.”

“The DBK killer,” Vengeance inferred, “-Umi, don’t you think it’s the perfect excuse to have Thoas executed?”

Uri and Svipe’s mouths dropped, “-a conspiracy?”

Cruse and Vengeance’s thoughts aligned telepathically, ‘-a conspiracy to out the Duquant and take control of Istra,’ one that seemed to originate here, but no, tis a task pledged by éclair and Essin, one signed behind closed doors, one by which the players never knew who played and for what purpose, ‘-take control of Istra and we’ll have ease of access into the new continent’s lawlessness. My apologies, master,’ they smirked, ‘-to make honest use of our master’s abilities, tis sometimes best to lead our leader into the proper direction, such is the purpose of his entourage.’