"I know who stole Satella's thing—and where she is!"
At the entrance to the slums, Shichen and Satella watched Subaru come running back, thrilled. Est had already been recalled into a crest. Her appearance—and Satella's—would be troublesome here, so Satella had pulled up the hood of her cloak.
The slum was large; finding the thief was both easy and hard. People there likely knew each other—ask around and you could learn plenty—but they wouldn't necessarily tell them, especially not Shichen and Satella.
Their clothes and looks screamed "not ordinary," which would make the locals wary or even hostile. Never mind getting answers—just not being treated as enemies would be good. But Subaru was different. He'd just been worked over by thugs; even though Shichen had healed his wounds, he was still grimy and in a plain tracksuit—exactly the kind of person slum residents would warm to.
And sure enough.
"Then let's head straight over."
Shichen and Satella followed Subaru toward the place he'd learned about. After ten minutes or so, the Fence's Storehouse—the name Subaru had picked up—appeared before them.
"It's this big? Are thieves that amazing? Don't tell me this is an official line of work," Subaru said.
"Don't be ridiculous. If theft were a legitimate job, the whole city would be thieves," Satella retorted.
"True… Still, now I get why it's a 'storehouse' and not a 'shack.' If everything inside was stolen goods… then yeah, we're in trouble."
"Indeed," Shichen nodded.
Subaru wasn't saying people were beyond saving—he meant the goods. Fenced items would be destroyed regularly; you couldn't actually fill a building this size to the brim. The storehouse had an imposing presence at odds with its crude name—solid and stout. Though single-story, its footprint rivaled an apartment block. It backed right up to the high city wall, deep in the slums.
"That tall wall behind it?" Subaru asked.
"The capital's defensive wall," Satella explained.
The capital was roughly square, with defensive walls on each side. The castle lay in the middle or to the far north within the walls, and the farthest point from it was where they stood now—the slums.
"So what do we do? The owner who handles the stolen goods should be inside. Maybe your item hasn't been fenced yet… but what stance do we take going in?"
"March in openly," Satella said. "Tell them something of ours was stolen and ask them to return it."
"Uh…" Subaru gaped and looked helplessly at Shichen.
Shichen only smiled. Satella was straightforward to a fault—call it pure and unworldly—with no knack for bending or playing to people. This wasn't a place where "being in the right" would get you far. Still, they didn't need to worry—they weren't lacking power.
"What are you smiling at? Are you laughing at me?" Satella frowned, watching him warily.
"Not at all. Stay just like this." He ruffled her hair again.
"Again…"
"I'll go first," Subaru said, a bit jealous, and turned away so he wouldn't have to watch.
Thud—!
Suddenly, a clear crash sounded from inside, followed by a tearing, slicing noise.
"What was that?" Subaru didn't think much of it, strode up, and pushed the door open.
Shing—! A blade flashed.
"Hello? Anyone home?"
Subaru hadn't noticed the flash of steel; he threw the door wide and walked in.
"Shichen?" Satella looked toward him, unsettled—she had seen the flash.
"Will Subaru… be alright?"
"Stay behind me. Let's go."
Shichen took point; Satella followed a step behind. Though the door was wide open, it was pitch-black inside—so dark the risen moon couldn't reach—nearly "can't see your hand in front of your face" dark.
"Ah—!"
Subaru's terrified scream rang out.
"Blood—! A severed arm—!"
Shichen flipped his hand; golden flame sprang to life in his palm and drifted up, flooding the room with light. He could see fine without it; it was for Satella's sake.
"How can this be…" She didn't even register the strange flame. Hand over her mouth, she stared in disbelief at the horrifying sight.
The building had probably been an inn once—there was a bar and a reception counter. The counter was piled with all sorts of junk: small chests, jars, swords, cheap trinkets—everything had a little wooden tag tied on. Those were retrieval tags—you could hand them to guards and fulfill multiple report quotas at once. A clear sign of graft.
Par for the course. In any world, a trade built on theft usually ties into a nation's rot and shadows.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. In the center of the storehouse, Subaru had collapsed into a blood pool, face ashen, body shaking. Beside him lay a shriveled severed arm, stump slick with fresh blood. He'd had his suspicions; now, with the light, he saw everything. The gore-drenched scene, the sticky feeling on his fingers, the metallic stench under his nose—all of it was suffocating.
In front of him sat a hulking old man with one arm severed—still conscious, staring weakly at Subaru. Beside the old man lay the thief Subaru had scouted out: face-down, unmoving, blood pooled beneath her, looking… dead.
This was a real crime scene. Subaru had never seen anything like it. The penetrating stink of blood, the sticky wet under him—his mind went blank, hands and feet froze like ice—only his stomach churned.
"Hurgh—!"
He couldn't stop himself—doubled over and vomited, heaving until tears and snot ran.
He was a shut-in; he'd never seen horror like this.
"Shichen…"
"It's okay—they're both still alive. We made it in time," Shichen said, reassuring.
"That's good… but why is it like this? Did they offend someone?" Satella asked. She wasn't fazed by the scene.
"If they steal and fence goods, payback is hardly surprising."
"I suppose… but this is too cruel, isn't it?"
"That's your kindness talking."
"Feels like you're not complimenting me… Did the culprit run that fast?"
"No. She's still here."
"Eh?"
"My, I've been found out—how troublesome. So troublesome," a woman's voice said suddenly—low and cool, with a lilt of amusement.
Ding—!
Without warning, sparks sprayed in front of Shichen—his barrier had met a blade.
"No wonder you're so calm—you've got some skill," the voice's owner said, stepping into view. She was strikingly beautiful and tall—about Subaru's height—and looked over twenty-five. "Beautiful woman" fit to a T: drooping eyes, a noble, languid air, skin so pale it looked ill—glittering under the firelight. She wore a black cloak, open in front; the tight black outfit beneath was seductive. Her figure was slender, but with all the right curves—downright devilish. And like Shichen, she had black hair—rare in this world.
"Who are you?" Satella asked sharply from behind Shichen, readying herself.
The woman ignored Satella. Her eyes fixed on Shichen—and the translucent shield before him. "Is that magic?"
"Guess again—Bowel Hunter," Shichen said, naming her moniker. He still remembered her.
"You know me… So you didn't come here by accident."
She giggled—and then her lips curled. Her pretty face twisted into a grotesque, vicious smile.
"You're so pretty—your intestines must be gorgeous too."
She drew a curved blade from her waist.
~~~
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