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As Kiss-Shot Heart-Under-Blade gracefully merged back into the shadows at Russell's feet, the thugs who had fallen under her hypnotic demonic charm began to regain their senses one after another. They reached up to touch their necks in confusion and lingering fear, their eyes wide with shock as the reality of what had just happened sank in. The room was filled with an oppressive silence, broken only by the ragged breathing of the men who dared not make any sudden movements or speak out of turn. After hearing Russell's authoritative command echoing through his armored visor, the yellow-haired man known as Blondie hurriedly began to explain the full details of their predicament, his voice trembling slightly as he recounted every aspect of the situation.
Once Blondie had finished his explanation, Russell allowed a long pause to hang in the air before his hoarse, metallic voice resonated once more throughout the abandoned building. "In other words, this detective hasn't actually discovered any solid connection between you all and the Spirit Begging Society, correct? You're essentially panicking over nothing more than a suspicion?"
He had pieced together the entire scenario now. These low-level thugs were simply overreacting to their own mistakes, creating a crisis out of thin air due to their paranoia. However, since he had already revealed himself by arriving at this location, he couldn't simply walk away and leave them to their own devices. In the more remote coastal regions, the Society might treat its lower-tier members as expendable fodder, discarding them without a second thought when they became inconvenient. But here in Northgate, where the organization's influence was still developing and not as deeply entrenched, the oversight and control over their contracted assets were far stricter, with every individual being monitored closely to prevent any leaks or betrayals.
Just as Russell was deep in contemplation, weighing his options, the atmosphere in the room grew so tense and quiet that the faintest sound would have echoed like a thunderclap. He considered the idea of anonymously tipping off the Cardmakers Association about this small base, but he quickly dismissed it as impractical. Misty would undoubtedly trace it back to him, given her position and resources, and such an action would serve no real purpose in the grand scheme. If his goal was truly to eliminate the threat they posed, it would be far more efficient to deal with all the thugs right here and now himself. As for the option of actually killing the detective as the mission demanded, that was completely out of the question. Committing such an act would only provoke the full, unbridled fury of the Federation's judicial system and the Cardmakers Association, turning him into a high-priority target overnight.
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Russell finally spoke again, his tone carrying an enigmatic edge that hinted at deeper intentions. "This situation is indeed a bit complicated to resolve cleanly. However, I do have a method in mind that could help you permanently eliminate the threat posed by that detective."
The moment those words left his mouth, before he could even begin to outline his proposed solution or take any further action, Blondie's pupils contracted sharply in alarm. He sensed an undercurrent of danger in the air, a subtle shift that screamed of impending doom. In the very next instant, his pale vampire summon materialized silently behind the red-haired man who had caused all this trouble, its fist descending with brutal force and precision, smashing the thug's head in a single, devastating blow that sent fragments scattering across the floor.
Ignoring the horrified screams and gasps that erupted from the other thugs in the room, Blondie wiped the sweat from his forehead and immediately dropped to his knees, pressing his head against the cold ground in a gesture of abject submission. "Sir, are you satisfied with this resolution to the problem?" he asked, his voice quivering with a mix of fear and desperation.
Observing Blondie's swift and ruthless performance, Russell couldn't help but reflect inwardly on the overwhelming influence that a true vampire lord like Kiss-Shot exerted over these inferior, mass-produced creatures. The only reason Blondie had acted with such extreme decisiveness was out of sheer terror, fearing that he himself might be next on the chopping block if he didn't preemptively address the issue in a way that pleased his superior.
When Russell remained silent for a moment, offering no immediate response, Blondie gritted his teeth in determination and quickly commanded his vampire to continue the purge. One by one, the summon moved through the remaining thugs, its fists crashing down with unrelenting force, shattering heads and silencing screams until the room was littered with lifeless bodies and the metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air.
By this point, Kiss-Shot had reappeared at Russell's side once more, her elegant form standing in stark contrast to the gruesome scene unfolding before them. After completing the executions, Blondie and his vampire knelt motionless on the bloodstained ground, their postures rigid as they awaited Russell's final judgment. The tension built to an almost suffocating level, with Blondie feeling as though he might collapse under the pressure at any second, until at last the hoarse voice emanated from within the armor again.
"Why didn't you wait to hear out my proposed solution first?"
Upon hearing this, Blondie drew in a deep, steadying breath and whispered his reply, his tone laced with caution. "I wouldn't dare to speculate on your intentions, sir. I simply believed that this approach would be the most effective way to handle the matter without leaving any loose ends."
A deep, rumbling laugh echoed from within the armor, carrying a hint of amusement at the situation. After allowing the moment to linger, Russell continued speaking. "Aren't you concerned that I might decide to kill you as well, just to tie up everything neatly?" In truth, his initial plan had indeed been to eliminate every single one of them to ensure no risks remained, but Blondie's proactive and decisive actions had caught him off guard and altered the dynamics. As for any potential exposure of this small base following the killings, that was of little concern to him personally. Aside from Misty, no one else in Northgate was aware of his secret involvement with the Society, and if Misty were to be apprehended as a result, he could simply disappear and relocate without issue.
"I can offer you my services in return, sir," Blondie replied, unaware of the thoughts racing through Russell's mind, his words a desperate bid to prove his value.
An expression of genuine interest formed behind Russell's visor, hidden from view. "What is your name?"
As Russell posed the question, Blondie couldn't suppress a sigh of relief, realizing that he had likely secured his survival for the time being. He responded immediately with the utmost respect. "My lord, my name is Rhys."
"Rhys," Russell repeated, letting the name hang for a moment. "Do any of these men you just killed have relatives or friends who might come looking for them?" Although Rhys had carried out the executions with apparent ease and without hesitation, properly disposing of the bodies presented a practical challenge. Leaving them here in the open was not an option, as it could attract unwanted attention from authorities or passersby.
In response to Russell's inquiry, Rhys answered without hesitation or embellishment. "My lord, no, they do not."
Russell was not particularly surprised by this revelation. These small-time thugs were the outcasts and rejects of society, individuals with no meaningful connections or support networks. If they had possessed any family or friends who truly cared about their well-being, they would never have resorted to joining the Spirit Begging Society in the first place, trading their freedom for illusory power.
"Do you have any enemies that I should be aware of?" Russell asked next, probing for any additional complications.
Rhys replied honestly, maintaining his straightforward demeanor. "No, my lord. We operate strictly according to the Society's directives. Without an assigned mission, we make it a point never to create unnecessary conflicts or enmities with others."
Except, of course, for that impulsive red-haired fool whose actions had sparked this entire ordeal, Russell noted to himself with a touch of irony.
After a brief period of silence during which Russell contemplated his next steps, he let out a sigh. "If that's the case, then it seems you hold no further value to me."
He had never genuinely entertained the notion of accepting Rhys's offer of service. Unlike Regent Jin, who possessed sophisticated methods to bind and control individuals to his will, Russell lacked such capabilities. Moreover, even if he had the means, what possible use could he have for a mediocre bronze-level cardmaker who had only achieved that status through the Society's reluctant assistance? Given his own prominent public identity as a promising cardmaker, every additional clandestine contact increased the risk of his double life being exposed.
The instant Russell uttered his sigh, Rhys instinctively sensed the mortal danger closing in. He reacted with frantic urgency, attempting to retreat while scrambling on his hands and feet, his vampire summon lunging forward in a desperate bid to defend him. Unfortunately for Rhys, both he and his summon were utterly outmatched, mere playthings in the face of Kiss-Shot's overwhelming power.
The pale vampire was intercepted mid-charge by Kiss-Shot, who had appeared in front of it in a flash, her fist delivering a wild, ferocious punch that sent the creature hurtling through the air and crashing into the wall with tremendous force, embedding it in the concrete amid a shower of debris. Contrary to the common portrayal of vampires as graceful and refined combatants, Kiss-Shot's fighting style was untamed and brutal, relying on raw physical strength and direct assaults rather than subtlety or evasion. Realizing the dire turn of events, Rhys continued his panicked retreat, crawling backward in a bid for distance. But by then, Kiss-Shot had already shifted her attention to him, her eyes locking onto his form with predatory intent.
In a burst of energy, her [Energy Drain] ability activated, channeling an invisible force that caused Rhys's head to explode violently like an overripe watermelon, his body collapsing lifelessly to join the ranks of the thugs he had once commanded.
Witnessing the explosive conclusion, Russell couldn't help but reflect inwardly with a sigh. "Wild, unrestrained fighting methods certainly have their advantages—they allow for direct attacks on the cardmaker themselves, bypassing their summons entirely." This realization reinforced why he had been so eager to create protective cards for his own defense, recognizing the vulnerability inherent in being a cardmaker without adequate safeguards.
Gazing at the array of headless corpses strewn across the ground, Russell reached up to scratch his head through the helmet, a bemused thought crossing his mind. "Why does it feel like I have a natural talent for playing the role of the antagonist in all this?"
He instructed Kiss-Shot to gather the several corpses into a single pile, stacking them methodically. With another activation of her ability, the bodies detonated in a controlled explosion, reducing them to a gruesome, indistinguishable mass of blood, flesh, and bone fragments that would be nearly impossible to identify.
"With that taken care of," Russell said to himself, surveying the scene one final time, "it would be unreasonable if the Spirit Begging Society didn't compensate me with some form of hard work fee for handling this mess."
THROW SOME POWERSTONES PLZ.