It was a short walk back. How this little distance turned into an entire night's journey was something only the goddess knew. But what I did know was I had new information on a cold case involving that dagger. Though I wished the key to it all were a more trustworthy person.
"So this is where a fixer like you works out of?" Kelly, who was following close behind, said with a somewhat insulting tone. She was carrying half the goods I had brought while staring off at the place I called home.
My hideout was created by commandeering an old building in a low-traffic area. How this city of steam functions is that people always expand upwards and outwards. So Lower, Middle, and Upper Cores are swiftly abandoned once their respective Outer Rings are established or an upper area is available.
To keep it simple, the Cores are the least desirable areas to live in. No sunlight, more boil pits, undesirable heat, and higher chances of being gored by steam.
"Sorry it's not up to your standards," I said dismissively.
"Wait!" she waved her hands in a panic while bowing her head a little. "I really didn't mean it like that. I simply meant that I expected a workshop of some kind, given your unique weapon."
A smile crept onto my face. At least she can appreciate art.
I turned back towards my place of residence. Sure, in terms of appeal, that was practically nonexistent. The first floor, the workshop she claimed I had, was in the worst state. Several holes poked through the structure where the metallic finish had long since rubbed off. Several pipes snaked around the outside, hissing a never-ending amount of steam. Then there was that occasional gear that skipped, causing a loud, echoing screech as it tried to realign itself.
At the very least, the second floor, where I sleep, was better kept.
—Ding Ding Ding
[Good morning, Middle Core residents. Time is now 7:00.]
An automated message played overhead as the ceiling lights that stretched across the Middle Core brightened to simulate daylight.
Kelly let out a yawn behind me. I could not help but let one out myself.
"You said you expected a workshop, right?" I said in a friendly tone as I reached for the doorknob. I noticed that it was left slightly ajar. This door has a latching problem, but I am not careless enough to leave it unlatched. Had someone entered? The only person that came to mind was Rinne.
Before I could fully react to that, Kelly had crept up right behind me, her eyes shimmering bright with a notepad in her hand. How she managed to keep those items balanced while holding a pen and paper was surprising. It must come with the job.
"Do you mind?" she asked excitedly.
"Why are you so hung up on fixers, anyway?" I asked as I let her into my workshop.
It was nothing grand, but it contained everything I needed to create weapons and complex items. Kelly looked around, leaving no spot unchecked while writing on her notepad with lightning speed.
"Honestly," she said, "I don't really know. My boss sent me out on a job after a dinner party, saying that my next big report needed to be on a fixer. I was drunk, so the details are hazy, but since I'm now being hunted, I suppose I could chalk it up to fate that I ran into a real fixer like you."
Fate, yeah. You could chalk it up to that if your mind was not tampered with. So I suppose the cult's actions only sped up the process of her finding me. I say me in particular because I am one of the very few fixers left in the Middle Core. All others relocated to the Middle Outer Ring once it was built.
Everyone knows Golden Steam operates in the Middle Core.
Once the pen in Kelly's hand stopped moving, we made our way upstairs. When I opened the door, the first thing that came into sight was a teenage girl "sleeping" on the couch. She was facing straight up, with her blanket haphazardly thrown over her. Her eyelids twitched as if being forced shut.
"Oh, you have a guest," Kelly approached me in a hushed tone. "Or would daughter be more appropriate?"
I had not really thought of a convincing story regarding Rinne yet. Sure, I could go around telling people that she was my daughter. But that only adds more issues than solutions, considering she's officially declared a runaway.
"Nah, just a friend's child." For once, the truth won't hurt.
"I see." Kelly's gaze then turned towards the back of the hideout. There was a small area set up like a kitchen. It did not have everything and was tight on space, but it was functional. Without even asking, Kelly made her way towards the island counter that served as the divider between the kitchen and the living room.
While she did that, I approached the so-called sleeping Rinne, leaned over her, and whispered, "Call me Axien until further notice." She did not respond, but I trust that she heard me and will take the request seriously.
Once breakfast had been served, the three of us ate together. Kelly was lively, yapping about things that never happened. I say that because I have read almost every article and report she has ever written. While most of what she said was close to the truth, anything related to the cult was scrubbed, replaced with something that could be believable, had I not been the one to handle those cases. Rinne, who was just eating in silence, raised a brow at some stories she was telling.
Afterwards, I dragged Kelly into my room. I was running dangerously low on energy, but I still had a few things to do before sleeping.
Like clockwork, the moment I closed the door, Kelly's face was flustered. She squirmed a little as she looked away. I sat there for a minute while she looked back at me with a confused expression that quickly changed to disappointment.
"Are you not gonna request anything?" Her tone was saddened.
"No," I said bluntly. The only reason I really dragged her here was to change her bandages. I could have Rinne do it, considering that they are both female, but Rinne cannot change bandages. Plus, if she saw the wound on Kelly's chest, I would be bombarded with questions. "I lied, do me a favor and take off your top."
She was hesitant, but eventually obeyed. I get that she's under the impression that she misspoke and said that she would do anything I asked for, but I really wish she had some shame. I grabbed some clean bandages and set them aside. Carefully, I undid her bandages. That same grotesque wound was still there. The bleeding had not stopped, but it had slowed. It would take some time to heal, which is a problem, as while it was still open, the memories of the victim would not return.
I poked the wound and looked Kelly in the eyes. She turned her head bashfully. Why are you reacting to me looking you in the eyes and not your chest?
"Ahem," I cleared my throat. "Can you tell me what this…scar is?"
"There's no scar on my chest," Kelly looked down to where my finger was pointing. I pulled back my finger. Blood coated the tip.
"What color is this?"
"It's pale." She said. There was no doubt that's what she truly believed. "It looks like some makeup. Kinda like what you were wearing when I first met you."
"…" I sat there in silence. That would explain why she approached me easily. She can't identify blood. I quickly redid her bandages.
"I take it you don't like them?" She said while hiding her chest. "I mean, you did re-bandage them twice now."
"No, I like them, but considering what we need to do to protect you, them being their true size would only draw more attention."
Hard to tell her there's a gaping wound on her chest when she can't even see blood. I suppose that her telling me she'd do anything comes in handy. I can ensure that the wound receives the treatment it needs to heal. But that also means that I need to stitch it back up. How do I explain to her that I need to put a needle and wire in her chest?
That was a problem for the future. She was my key to finding the mastermind who was in possession of the dagger. Her being in this state as long as possible would be my way of tracking them down.
"You're sleeping in here," I said while getting into bed myself.
"With you? In the same bed?" I can't tell if she's embarrassed or excited.
"Where else?"
The time was three when I woke up. Kelly was beside me, snoring softly. I carefully got out of bed and left the room.
"Care to explain, 'Axien?'"
Before me was a young girl glaring daggers at me. She was dressed in a familiar outfit, something her mother once wore when she was about her age. Where did she get it?
I simply responded with a smile as I pushed her aside.
"Hey!"
She shouted as I made my way towards the fridge to grab a beer. The moment I did, I could tell that Rinne took a more cautious stance. I plopped myself on the couch and began to drink.
Nothing beats nice booze on an empty stomach.
I let out a burp as I turned back towards Rinne, who was just staring at me with eyes capable of killing a man. Too bad she was all bark.
"So, what do you want this early in the morning?"
"Morning? It's the afternoon." She said. "And what's with her? Are you seriously taking on another job after you said you would help me?"
Guess I don't need to explain that she's a client. Though I would wish she would not be so angry about this. I never said I would accept her job. Why would I do something that would show her that the man her mother trusted was the man who put her under?
"Your request is secondary to your mother's," I said while drinking more of the beer. "Your mother willed that I watch over you. Therefore, while I am doing that, I will do as I please and work as I please."
Rinne made a face as if she were fighting back the urge to curse at me. She then sighed heavily and slumped her shoulders.
"To think I got my hopes up. You really are the scum of the world."
"Tell me something I don't know. Besides, I think this case will lead to the closure I need."
Rinne's head perked up a little as I spoke those words.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"Your mother's death was cult-related. Kelly's job is related to an old case I worked on years ago. If I can get a lead on the cult's actions, I can figure out why they wanted her dead."
"I thought you, of all people, would at least be serious," Rinne said in a tone that was dripping with malice. She looked at me with a newfound anger that could give Margaret a run for her money. "Cult-related? Are you seriously gonna tell me to my face that my mother died to some shady fan club that worships fictional beings?"
I finished the rest of my drink and walked towards Rinne. She flinched the moment I got close, and more so when I raised the hand with the empty beer bottle. I tossed the bottle into the trash.
Guess I should stop drinking around her.
She was still bracing herself for a hit. Instead, I placed my hand on her head. Confused, she relaxed and looked at me.
"Look girly, up there on the Upper Core, the cult's actions are practically nonexistent. Don't let that ignorance be the cause of your death."
"But-!"
"Hush, you'll see in due time that your mother's role was to shut down their antics. The only reason that you believe they are nothing more than a shady fan club is that we worked tirelessly to ruin their plans."
I don't let her tarnish the work her mother did. But also don't want her to deal with the underdealings of the city.
"I hate liars." She muttered under her breath as she shoved my hand aside. She looked at me with her scarlet eyes burning bright with passion. "I will kill you if you are lying to me. I did not endure all these years just to be lied to by some drunken wannabe hero."
"If you believe me to be lying, then you can kill me. Nothing will be more ironic."