Chapter 21: Cat and Mouse
The air in the safe house was thick with unspoken tension, a palpable sense of fear and defiance. Nick, caught between his duties as a police detective and his responsibilities as a Grimm, was trying to protect a member of a Wesen resistance group from a Verrat assassin. The Verrat, the Royal Family's ruthless enforcers, were a constant, insidious threat, their reach extending far beyond Portland. It felt like a particularly grim game of chess, and Nick was just trying to keep his pawn from being taken.
Adam, perched on a precarious beam high above the safe house, grimaced. "You know, Ciri, I always thought 'cat and mouse' games were for, like, actual cats and mice. Turns out, it's also for Wesen resistance fighters and royal assassins. And frankly, the mouse usually loses. Unless the mouse has a Witcher on its side. Then it's a whole different game. A much more fun game, if you ask me."
[ New Faction Discovered: Wesen Resistance. Information added to Library. ]
[ Wesen Alert: Verrat Assassin - High Threat. Priority Target. ]
Ciri, who had zero patience for political intrigue, scoffed. "Resistance is futile if they cannot fight. These Verrat are trained killers. They must be dealt with decisively. This cat needs to be declawed."
"Agreed," Adam said, scrolling through the newly updated Library entries. "And this Verrat assassin? He's like a highly trained, very boring ninja. All stealth and precision. But we're better. We're like… the chaotic good versions of ninjas. With more sarcasm. And acid." He paused, then added, "It's like inter-species office politics, but with more bloodshed and less TPS reports. Seriously, these guys need a union."
Their investigation, a blend of Adam's meta-knowledge and Ciri's sharp tracking skills, led them to the Verrat assassin's hidden lair, a drab, nondescript apartment filled with surveillance equipment and schematics of the safe house. The assassin, a cold, calculating killer, was preparing to strike, his movements precise, his focus absolute. He was a professional, and he was good. Too good for Nick to handle alone.
"Alright, Ciri," Adam whispered, observing the assassin from a darkened alleyway. "Here's the plan. We stop the assassin. We protect the resistance fighter. And then, acid. Lots of acid. For the assassin. Because, frankly, some royal agents just need to be dissolved. It's for the greater good. And for my kill count."
They moved swiftly, Adam's enhanced senses easily cutting through the assassin's attempts at concealment. They found him preparing to breach the safe house, a lethal glint in his eyes. He was a master of his craft, but he wasn't expecting them.
"Hey, Agent Smith!" Adam called out, stepping into the dim light. "Your mission has been aborted. And your exit strategy just got a 'permanent' upgrade. Seriously, you guys are so predictable. It's like you're all reading from the same villain handbook."
The assassin, a trained killer, shrieked, lunging at them with a razor-sharp blade. He was fast, dangerously so, but Adam was faster. Adam merely blinked, unaffected. He'd even popped a Blizzard potion for enhanced reflexes, just to be extra efficient. The world around him seemed to slow, the assassin's movements becoming almost ponderous. His eyes, for a brief, terrifying moment, turned completely black, reflecting the assassin's startled face like twin voids.
The assassin, used to his victims cowering, stumbled back, a whimper escaping his throat. This wasn't right. This human… his eyes were the void. It was unnatural. It was terrifying. His training, his discipline, shattered in that single, horrifying moment. He had faced Grimms, even powerful Wesen, but this… this was something else entirely. A primal, ancient fear gripped him, paralyzing him.
Ciri, seizing the moment of hesitation, moved. Her silver sword was a blur, disarming the assassin with a precise flick of her wrist. The blade clattered to the ground, a metallic echo in the sudden silence. Adam followed up with a powerful, non-lethal strike, a precise kick that sent the Wesen unconscious.
"Well, that was easier than expected," Adam mused, his eyes flickering back to normal. He pulled out his Acid of Dissolution. "Guess he wasn't expecting the 'black-eyed, sarcasm-slinging Witcher with a time-slowing potion' approach. It's a niche market, but it's effective." He then proceeded to dissolve the body. "See, Ciri? Less talk, more acid. That's efficiency. And it avoids awkward conversations with the police. They always ask too many questions about why the bad guy is suddenly… goo."
[ Kill Count: 1 Wesen. Level Up! Current Level: 5. Kills to Level 6: 32. ]
"Still Level 5, but progress!" Adam exclaimed, pumping his fist. "This is like a stealth mission, but with more dissolving. And speaking of dissolving, I'm pretty sure I saw a Maurits in the news. Rat people. Next up, pest control, supernatural edition." He paused, then looked at Ciri. "Hey, you know, this whole 'double agent' thing? It's a classic trope. You ever try to explain tropes to someone who only understands 'hit them until they tell the truth'?"
Ciri stared at him, her brow furrowing. "Double… agent? What is this 'double agent' you speak of? Is it a new type of magical creature? One that changes its form to deceive?"
Adam sighed dramatically. "Oh, Ciri. We have so much to discuss. It's a long, complicated conversation. Involving betrayal, hidden loyalties, and a lot of therapy. It's like Renard, but with more layers. He's playing both sides, you see. He's the police captain, but he's also a royal Zauberbiest. It's like he can't decide if he wants to be Batman or Lex Luthor. Just pick one, dude, it's exhausting." He grinned. "But for now, let's just say it's why some people are so… complicated. Now, about those rat people…"
Nick, meanwhile, with Monroe's help, managed to protect the resistance fighter from the Verrat assassin. He found the assassin's lair, empty save for a lingering scent of fear and a faint, acrid smell. Another mysterious intervention. Nick felt a growing sense of gratitude, mixed with a healthy dose of unease. Who were these people? And why did they keep cleaning up his messes before he even got there? He was increasingly reliant on them, even if he didn't fully understand them. They were a necessary evil, or perhaps, a necessary good. A very, very efficient good.
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