Chapter 144: Book Three – Chapter Five – Part Four – The Act of Subterfuge and Sabotage

The 6th continued. “The rest of you, use any skills you can to help with digging out this wall. For those who can't, use your hands or whatever tools you can find. Some weird shit happened today, but we’re going to get to the bottom of this. Now let’s head to Eletri’s room to straighten this out. For your sake, Williana, you’d best be telling the truth. Such false accusations against the Mafia and its members are not treated lightly. At the very least, you can expect to be tortured and displayed as a deterrent for all who wish to falsely incriminate their allies.” 

After dividing the group in two, Servi, Carrie, the 6th, the Elf with a 7, and seven other Numbered made their way down the hallway. Servi smiled when they reached the spot where she had killed the bald Singi Salcedo. As she thought, there was no evidence of even the tiniest thing happening.  

At the fork into the road, Eletri’s sworn sister suddenly asked a question. “Which way is to Eletri’s room?” she pointed to Servi.  

Servi simply smiled. “7th, I don’t know. I only know where the cafeteria is, my room, and how to leave. Hell, I even couldn’t find the shitter.” 

The 7th scowled, and Servi silently chuckled.  

I guess you were ready for that, weren’t you, Servi? It’s like you’ve been in this situation before…. Or maybe a similar situation… 

After being told to shut up by the 6th, the group took a left at the fork and stopped in front of a room.  

“This is Eletri’s room, and I don’t smell a damn thing. If there are corpses inside here, we should smell them! She’s nothing but a lying bitch!” 

The 6th gave an order for her to calm down as he tried the handle. It was locked. After signing once again, he took out two items from his Dimensional Storage. One was a metal mold of a key, and the other was a sealed jar of brown liquid. After carefully placing the mold into the keyhole, he opened the jar lid and poured it into the mold. Some of the mysterious liquid splattered about, dirtying the gray walls and wooden floors, but it seemed that no one present cared about his mess.  

After he poured the jar, he closed the lid and tossed it into his Dimensional Storage. Next, he an ice skill called Frost Breath. It required the user to be at least Rank 5 in Warden and converted a person’s warm breath into a freezing chill. The 6th blew for just a few moments, causing the liquid inside the mold to expand and break, leaving behind a solid object in the shape of a newly formed key.  

After twisting it, the door slid open to reveal a horrific sight to all but Servi, who subtly grinned.  

“I know some of these men. That’s Rok, isn't it? I used to work with him back in the day,” the 6th said. A serene panic filled his voice, and his body trembled with anger. “And that’s Shimmie. I can recognize those cloudy scales anywhere.” 

“No…. No! No!! NO NO NO NO NO!!!” shouted Eletri’s sworn sister. She saw the diary and immediately went to grab it. Opening it hastily, she scanned through the entries until she found the perfect forged entry amended by Servi. 

“ELETRI, WHY?!!! WE…. We…..” she collapsed to her knees, and the 6th picked the diary she dropped. As he did, Carrie walked around to the corpses and cringed.  

“Holy hell, his chest is wide open. I never knew Eletri had it in her to be ruthless. Hell, even I wouldn’t go this far. And yeah, I recognize that Koena and that Singi.” 

“SHE DIDN’T FUCKING DO THIS, CARRIE! It’s impossible!! It has to be!!!!” Tears flowed from her eyes, dampening the filthy trash and moisturizing the dried blood underneath her.  

“Dana,” the 6th said. “Everything in the letter is true. Williana, you’re hereby cleared from all suspicion,” with a quick chant, he produced a key and un-cuffed Servi.  

After rubbing her wrists, Servi asked her 9th what was going to happen. “Eletri was Dana’s sworn sister. They joined together about a year ago. And they were responsible for each other,” Carrie whispered. “They’ll both be taken by the 6th and tortured. If they confess to this and anything else they have planned, then the torture stops and gets commuted to immediate death by skinning. But that’s if the info they give is reliable. If it’s not, then the torture gets worse. Right before they die, a healer would be brought in to heal any damage. Then the torture starts over again. It’ll never end.” 

That’s brutal… Servi, I do think this is the only way. If it comes to the lives of everyone here or Momo, then I pick Momo every time. 

“Carrie, you can head on back. Even though you’re her handler, let me send the report in. I’m the lowest Numbered here, so it ultimately falls to me. You two, take Dana and send her to the torture room. The rest of you, send out an alert for Eletri for her immediate capture and have all observers work to find her. She needs to pay." Before anyone could carry out the orders the 6th had barked, a messenger ran into the room.

“6th! It’s the hole!! There’s been a cave-in or something.”  

“Explain!” he demanded.  

“Sir, the hole’s been squeezed shut, like a giant disk fell inside and crushed everything. And that’s not all. We found the corpse of an 8th. It’s… Salcedo. He was laid on top, like some sort of warning. We believe the cause of death to be by his broken neck.” 

“Shit…” The 6th made a fist and punched the wall, creating a hole half a meter deep.  

“Wait, it couldn’t have been Eletri, right?” pleaded Dana. “She’s been on a mission, right? And we have witnesses who saw Salcedo this morning. Hell, it wasn’t even two hours ago that he was still alive.” 

“Maybe not for Salcedo, I’ll look into that, but definitely for these poor bastards. She’s a Numbered, so she knew the location of the secret exit. Based on her skills and overall ability, I have no doubt that she could pull this off. Regardless, you were her sworn sister. You two were responsible for each other’s failures and success. And you have failed, miserably. Your death will not be swift, nor will it be painless. Be prepared to atone for your sins of harming the Mafia.” After repeating his previous orders, the 6th went to the cafeteria to check on the excavation progress. Carrie and Servi, meanwhile, proceeded to go back to their room. As they did, the sounds of protest coming from Dana were like music to Servi's ears. They could hear her desperation from two or three corridors away.  

Servi, do you think we have to do more to get a 5th to visit? I’m getting nervous. If I think about it, Salcedo, Dana, and Eletri are all Numbered. They’re in a leadership position. I don’t know how involved they actually were, but maybe it wasn’t enough. Nobody’s panicking. We might find a way to kill the 6th and frame it on someone else. If there’s enough havoc, and Deset is unruly, a 5th would have to come to straighten it out. Maybe we can ask Carrie tomorrow morning about the situation. I know you can’t hear me, but I’ll bring this up when we can finally talk. Umm...one more thing. I love you, Servi.  

---

Old Man was there in their room, finishing up his stolen cup of coffee. After filling him in on the details, he looked so shocked that he couldn’t believe it.  

“So you mean to tell me that no one knows who killed him?” 

“That’s right. You remember seeing that Singi alive, right?” asked Carrie. She sat down at the table and took a sip of the cup of coffee in front of her. Hot and steamy, it was the perfect treat to wash away the stresses and worries of the adrenaline-filled morning.  

“I do. I remember seeing him walk away. I stayed in the cafeteria for quite a while, but I didn’t see him come back. I only saw Williana there when she stepped through the door to the hole,” Old Man said.  

“That lines up with what you told me. Did Williana tell you that there weren’t any guards?” 

Old Man nodded.  

“See? I was telling the truth.” 

“I do now, but you gotta see it from the Mafia’s side. The day—not even the day, but only hours after you showed up, we have a Numbered who died by a broken neck and a situation with Eletri, another Numbered. And you were at the center of both incidents. I know from your ID that you only know shitty skills, so I don’t think you could’ve framed Eletri or killed Salcedo.” 

Servi scoffed and took a sip of her coffee. “Well, excuse me for knowing shitty skills.” 

“Look, let’s just throw all that shit behind us and get on to your next task. We need you two to go into the city and sell some Monotonia,” Carrie said. She emptied her cup and tossed it into the trash can before rubbing her hands through her red hair. They lightly rubbed against her furry ears, which happily twitched.  

“It seems too easy. What’s the catch?” Servi replied.  

“They’re White Monotonia, and you need to get more than the selling price.” 

“How much is the selling price? If I remember right, it was 20 or so dupla for a quarter pink, right?” Servi responded.  

“That sounds about right,” Old Man pipped up.  

“That’s only at the Boxcar. Usually, whites go for around 30 a quarter. But those are pink, not white. Pink’s are more expensive because of the pleasure that you feel. The white one makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine without the anger from the Red Monotonia or the lust from the Pink Monotonia.” 

“Okay, so how much do we need to get for them?” Servi asked.  

“More than 10 a quarter, or 40 total for one pill. You each will get a bag of eleven. If you want, you can take a pill out and keep it as part of your payment, or you can go ahead and sell it. Regardless, you two need to come back with over 400 dupla each. If you can scam some shit head into paying more, then great.” Carrie walked into her room at the back. When she came back a second later, she slammed two small bags on the table.

Old Man asked Carrie a question when she sat down. “Do we have anything else to do after completing this task?” 

“Yeah, you do. I can’t say anything more than that. Now, if there aren’t any more questions, go ahead and fuck off.” 

“Fine. See ya later, Carrie,” Servi said, grabbing a bag. Even if she gave them away for free, she had the dupla in her ring to cover the cost almost 100,000 times over.

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Old Man grabbed his bag and joined his bald friend as she held open the door for him. After a quick thank you, the two headed through Deset, up to the community room, ascended the dank staircase, and made their way through the glass door.  

The sun was shining mighty hot, and there was nary a breeze to help cool the citizens of Arcton off.  

Covering her eye with one hand, Servi spoke. “If I was going to sell pills, I would want to go to the richest part of town. Old Man, you know where that is?” 

Wiping the accumulating sweat off his brown, he nodded. “You would think it was where we were at last night, but there is a place even richer. However, it's hard to get to. It’s blocked off and guarded to make sure the poor and undesirables can’t get to it. People like us, basically.” 

“Then lead the way. I’m sure we’ll be able to gain access. If not, then we just need to find a way to squeeze in. Hell, maybe someone can start a distraction.” 

Even if you have to kill? Itarr asked.

“Very well then. Follow me,” Old Man said as he walked away in a particular direction. Servi followed close behind as she brainstormed a way to gain access. But before she could make any concrete plans, she had to see the area and defenses for herself.  

---

“See? I don’t know if you’ve ever been through there, but the only way to go to the rich, rich part of town is through there. The thing is, it’s imposs—Oh, look!” Old Man said, peeking out from behind a wall.  

He and a certain bald girl with one eye were about ten or fifteen meters away from a scroungy-looking hobo trying to gain passage through a small gate. It was embedded into a solid brick wall, which prevented people from this side—the side Old Man and Servi were on—from peeking through to the fabled rich part of the district. The place where Servi bought the wooden figurine and the area where Dal's armor shop stood didn't compare at all to the sanctuary hidden behind the wall in front of them. The guards didn’t let just anyone in; that’s why Itarr had to clean the blood off of Servi’s clothes, but the rules were far less strict.  

The guard, clad in his expensive metal armor, drew a small wooden scythe from his side. In a single, well-defined motion, he hooked the blade around the back of the man’s neck and yanked down. Simultaneously, the guard lifted his left leg and kneed the homeless man in the chin. He cried out and gargled blood mixed with teeth.  

It was a horrific sight, but one that reminded Servi of what she did to Arty in the tournament.  

“See? He didn’t even say anything, and he’s been clocked in the jaw,” Old Man sighed and looked away, leaning up against the wall. A small boy pushing a baby stroller wondered by, locking eyes with Old Man. No doubt he was one of those observers Carrie mentioned.  The only question was what base did he belong to.

A few seconds later, a second guard, with a metal pole on his back, emerged from behind the gate. The guard with the scythe moved out of the way and allowed the metal pole-wielding guard to drag the homeless man through. All the while, the surprising amount of people who filtered through the filthy streets acted like it was a daily occurrence. The two old women who chatted by the window never even stopped their conversation.  

“How are we gonna get in?” Servi asked. Frankly, she already had a way to get in. Her plan was to use Telekinesis to simply snap the guard’s neck, but that kind of bully behavior wouldn’t always work in her favor. She knew there was going to come a time where snapping a neck wouldn’t solve her problems.  

“You need to look the part. By that, I mean we have to lose the clothes and change into something more 'noblish.’ Wait, you see that?” Old Man pointed to the gated brick wall.  

Old Man pointed at a man and woman, both adorned in black silk and sparkly jewels. With a stylish swagger, the pair walked up the scythe-wielding guard. Without speaking a single word, he opened the fence and stood back. The two nobles walked right inside, and the guard closed the gate before resuming his guard.  

“So there’s a dress code? That’s weird, but whatever. So we need to steal some clothes?”  

“Yes. And find a wig and something to cover your eye. You see, I’ve lived here a long time, and I saw the transformation from a naturalistic town to whatever we have now. The people inside there all live in their little world. They’re ignorant of the changes that are happening all around them. So to enter, we need to have a little bit of that ignorance.” 

“I see. Wait, can we sell the pills inside?” Servi asked.  

“That we can. They only believe what they want to believe and ignore everything else. They don’t see the poor, the desolate parts of town that are crumbling and falling. Conversely, they believe in the pills and everything else. I should've said this earlier, but a simple way to look at it is this: If it goes against their beliefs, ideals, and values, they ignore it. If not, then they welcome it. They welcome the pills, and they ignore everything else. But there are rumors that they don't openly talk about the pills.  It might not be good to actively go around and advertise that you have them lest the wrong people get involved. However, since they’re rich, we have to look the part of a rich person.” 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to slaughter the guards?” 

Old Man shook his head. “I've heard rumors that the guards are all either Rank 2 or 3 in Warden. Some are even rumored to be Rank 1.” 

“If that’s the case, then why haven’t they attacked the Mafia? They have the firepower,” Servi argued.  

“I can’t answer that. Maybe the Mafia is stronger than that? Or maybe the ignorant rich bastards don’t see war as something they should wage. To be honest, if I was in their position, I’d ignore them. But I’m a selfish bastard in my old age. I do agree that killing them would be easier, but we’re simply too weak.” 

Servi kicked a rock and started to walk down the road towards wherever. She needed time to think about how to proceed. Old Man followed along after her while stealing glanced from behind. The wooden scythe guard stood at attention with his weapon at the ready.  

“I should've asked this before, but are you blessed?” Servi asked.   

“I’m not,” Old Man replied. “I did join Warden to learn a few skills here or there when I was a young adult, but it's nothing that would help in combat. But let me tell you something. You can have all the skills in the world; you can make a fire tornado, a wall of pure ice, a volcano of razor-sharp wind, and summon a fire spirit in the shape of a dragon, but all of those combined won’t do much good if your neck is slit in the middle of the night. Skills aren’t the end all be all. Take it from someone who found that out the easy way.” 

“…” Servi stayed quiet and kept walking. She pulled a dupla out of her pouch and flipped it.  

“So I guess we need some new clothes. A suit and a wig for me and a dress and a wig for you. As long as we look the part, we should be able to get through.” 

“You’re the one who knows the most about this town. Lead the way,” Servi said. She flipped the coin one last time before putting it away.  

“I do know a place. And while we can technically afford the clothes, it’d be better to steal them,” Old Man said.  

Thirty minutes later, the two found themselves ten meters away from a particular clothing shop named Frannies. It was located not even twenty meters from the spot where Servi bought that wooden figurine.

“There are five big windows and seven people loitering out front,” Servi observed. She and Old Man were leaning against a building not too far away.  

Behind the wooden counter laid a glass display case full of wigs. Long and short, smooth and frazzled, Frannies had it all. The store itself was split into two halves: one for males and one for females. In other words, one half for suits and dress shoes and one half for dresses and heels. The painted walls were peeling and cracking, leaving small blue flakes to litter the unkempt flooring. The two women inside, both with short black hair, talked aimlessly with each other. It was like they couldn’t see the vast amount of cleaning that needed to be performed.  

“If we can cause a distraction, we can get them away. I wonder—” 

“FIRE!!! IT’S A FIRE!!! RUN AWAY!!!!!” Servi shouted. She pointed over to a small ball of black smoke that steadily grew bigger and stronger.  

Of course, it wasn’t a fire. It was Servi's Smokescreen skill. Like with Telekinesis, she could place anchor points that dictated where and how fast the smoke would grow. The initial range was most impressive. If she could spot a surface in a 30-meter radius, she could place down the smoke point. And to make it more realistic, a few small Fire Walls were placed within the smoke. Their crimson glow was covered and darkened by the black smoke, which added to the false authenticity of the entire thing. It also obscured the factual location of the Fire Walls. They weren’t placed on the ground but set about half a meter in the air. This way, there wasn’t a chance of anything nearby combusting and causing a real fire to go out of control.  

Once Servi started screaming, other people began to shriek and the area devolved into chaos. Very few tried to play the part of a hero. Most ran away, squealing in terror while those who were too drugged out on Monotonia sat there. It was as if the will to live had been forcibly sucked and squeezed from their bodies.

Old Man was astonished. He never expected for there to be a distraction as soon as she said something. A part of him, grown wise by his many years of living, immediately knew Servi was behind it. He knew using skills without speaking was bordering on the power of the Gods, but the world contained a great deal of unknown in it.

There could be thousands of races we have no idea of. There’s that rumor of a Dryad in Keywater... So who’s to say that we don’t have a Dryad of our own somewhere in Lando? Well, not that it matters in the slightest. He thought.  But if it doesn't harm me in any way, then do I really want to say something?

“Come on! The store is clear. We can run in and out in a hurry,” Servi said. She raced across the street to the now-empty store and grabbed the most expensive-looking dress she could. It was black with a slit going up the side of her leg that ended at her hip.  

“Don’t forget about the wig!” Old Man shouted. He hopped over the counter and smashed the display case of wigs with the pommel of his dagger. Grabbing two at random, he tossed them to Servi. She snatched them and a pair of heeled shoes.

Old Man, realizing he had the time, smashed the register and took everything inside, which came out to about 172 dupla, and rushed to grab a suit and shoes. Though he was getting up there in age, Old Man was in better shape than most. He never allowed the foul Monotonia to poison his body and mind.  

Once they had the items they needed, Servi and Old Man rushed out under the protection of the black smoke that threatened to suffocate the entire area. She looked behind her and confirmed that the Fire Walls and Smokescreen were canceled. After taking the first left, second right, hopping a small fence, they ran until they found an abandoned shed that was on its last bit of life. It was so rusty that even a briskly breeze had the power to bring it to the ground.

It won’t take too long for the smoke to dissipate. And I saw you leave three thousand dupla on the table when we ran out. I hope the owner gets it. Itarr said.  

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