Chapter 15: The Surgeon's Calculus
The Goldstone Lane incident sent ripples of panic and speculation through Aethelburg's underworld. A demonic cell, however small, had been eradicated with surgical precision. For the corrupt and the compromised, the message was clear: a new, unpredictable predator was hunting in their city, one that could see through their disguises.
Leo paid no heed to the rumors. In the silence of his villa, he reviewed the data. Fynn's final, terrified confession had provided a list of targets. The System had cross-referenced these names with his constantly updating Energy Perception map of the city. Nodes of corruption glowed in his mind's eye, a hidden network beneath the city's vibrant Qi.
He didn't see people. He saw a problem to be solved. A system to be debugged.
His first target was the alchemist. Not to kill him. To observe.
The man, a disgraced former adept named Corbin, operated out of a squalid basement in the slums known as the Rust Quarter. The air was thick with the cloying stench of false medicines and chemical decay. To Leo's Energy Perception, the place was a festering sore. Corbin's own Qi was a sickly, pulsing green, riddled with the same oily corruption he brewed for others.
For three nights, Leo watched from the shadows of a nearby rooftop. He saw the desperate and the greedy slink into the basement, exchanging coin or information for small vials of murky liquid. He saw Corbin's paranoid routines, his constant checking of hidden exits, his meetings with a hulking, low-level enforcer from the local thieves' guild.
Leo wasn't just watching the alchemist; he was studying the entire ecosystem of corruption. He noted the enforcer's patrol routes, the times when the Rust Quarter's watch was thinnest, the specific blend of fear and avarice in the customers' energy signatures.
On the fourth night, he moved.
He didn't go for the alchemist. He intercepted the enforcer on his way home, in a narrow, mist-shrouded alley a mile from the Rust Quarter. The man was big, his Qi brutish and already tinged with a fresh dose of Corbin's corruption.
"Evenin', friend. Lost your way?" the enforcer grunted, reaching for the cudgel at his belt.
Leo didn't answer. He simply moved. One moment he was ten feet away, the next he was inside the man's guard. His hand, moving with the speed of a piston, struck a specific cluster of nerves at the base of the enforcer's neck.
The man's eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed without a sound, his body temporarily shutting down.
Leo hauled the unconscious bulk into a shadowed doorway. A quick search revealed a ledger tucked inside the man's vest—crude records of "protection" payments and deliveries for Corbin. Evidence. Leo took it. The enforcer was not a primary target; he was a variable removed from the equation to simplify the main operation.
He continued to the alchemist's den. He didn't sneak through the front door. He went down, using his Echo-Location to find a forgotten sewage grate in the alley behind the building. He pried it open with his bare hands, the metal screaming in protest before yielding to his Strength, and dropped into the filth below.
He moved through the darkness beneath the city, his Perception guiding him unerringly until he stood directly below Corbin's basement laboratory. He could hear the man above, muttering to himself as he stirred a noxious brew.
Leo focused his Strength into his fist and punched upward. The stone floor of the basement shattered inward with a thunderous crash. Dirt, debris, and a very surprised alchemist tumbled down into the tunnel.
Corbin shrieked, scrambling away from the crumbling hole, his face pale in the gloom. He fumbled for a knife at his belt. "Who's there? Stay back!"
Leo stepped from the shadows, his form outlined by the faint light from the hole above. He said nothing. He just stood there, a silent, blind judge in the underworld.
Corbin's Energy Perception spiked with pure, unadulterated terror. He recognized the description. Everyone had heard it by now. The blind man. The Butcher of Goldstone Lane.
"Please! I was forced! They threatened me!" he babbled, the same pathetic excuses Fynn had used.
"Your ledger," Leo said, his voice echoing flatly in the confined tunnel. He tossed the enforcer's book at Corbin's feet. "Names. Your suppliers. Not the demons. The humans who bring you the ingredients."
Terror was a potent motivator. Corbin, sobbing, gave up everything. He named a captain in the city watch who looked the other way for a cut of the profits. He named a merchant who imported rare, toxic herbs under the guise of tea. He described a network that was far more human than demon—a web of greed that the demons had simply learned to exploit.
Leo absorbed it all. The System logged the new data, expanding the map of corruption. This was more valuable than killing one alchemist. He was mapping the entire infection.
When Corbin was drained of information, he curled into a ball, weeping. "Are you going to kill me?"
Leo considered it. The man was a resource, now depleted. His corruption level was high, his actions had caused suffering. The EXP would be modest but useful.
But a dead alchemist was just a corpse. A living, broken one could send a more potent message.
"No," Leo said. "You will deliver a message."
He gave Corbin instructions, cold and precise. The alchemist listened, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear.
An hour later, a city watch patrol found Corbin wandering dazed near the main gate. He was babbling incoherently about demons and blind angels of death. In his hands, he clutched his own ledger—a complete record of his operations—and the enforcer's book, neatly tied together with a piece of twine.
The watch captain whose name was in the ledger took one look at it, paled, and immediately had Corbin dragged away to the deepest dungeon. But the damage was done. The evidence was in the system. The watch was thrown into disarray, a silent purge beginning within its ranks as loyal officers discovered the rot.
Leo returned to his villa as the sun began to rise. He had not gained a massive amount of EXP, but he had accomplished something more valuable. He had not just removed a problem; he had turned it into a tool. He had injected chaos into the enemy's ranks and forced them to start cutting out their own rot.
General Kaelen received the report at dawn. A watch captain arrested for corruption. An alchemist's network exposed. All stemming from the incident in Goldstone Lane. He didn't need proof. He knew.
He stood on his own balcony, looking out toward Leo's villa. A sense of profound unease settled over him. The weapon he had brought into his city was not merely cutting down demons. It was performing surgery on the city itself, with no regard for the patient's comfort. He was efficient. He was effective. And he was utterly, terrifyingly beyond Kaelen's control.
In his villa, Leo stood perfectly still, his Energy Perception monitoring the city's reaction. The corruption signatures of several mid-level officials were flickering wildly—some with fear, others with frantic attempts to cover their tracks. Their movements became more predictable. More foolish.
He allowed himself a small, cold smile. The operation was proceeding optimally. The patient was reacting to the first incision.
The Surgeon was in. And his scalpel was sharp.