Leaving the house and stepping onto the main street she moved swiftly.
In contrast to the city’s noise Mina seemed to have merged into it. She seemed as inconspicuous as a droplet entering the sea.
She simply headed towards her destination, the Night Gardenia, a club where people of various cultures gathered.
The big city had the appearance of a big city though constrained by the shackles of the era.
Leaving the main streets and entering alleys one inevitably encountered piles of feces and garbage in the outer territory with the breath of dusty air.
While harmful black smoke spewed from factory chimneys various strange inventions were being created and the economy soared with the growth of productivity. The background of all these inventions while benefiting the nobles certainly made it worse for commoners.
Noble houses were lit up by electricity. Meanwhile commoners had to survive on steam lamps and steam heating machines to keep them warm.
The sharp contrast between the two zones was quite jarring to witness.
Swiftly passing through the city zones and taking a deep alleyway detour Mina appeared before the main entrance of Night Gardenia which looked like an inconspicuous old building.
Taking a step she pushed open the door. A strong pungent smell of alcohol cigars and various other scents wafted through the air.
’As always this place stinks.’ She snorted inwardly as she made her way inside.
She wanted to change her appearance but she was strictly ordered to keep that figure. Thankfully it was still a disguise lest the people might go crazy due to the bewitchment.
Striding towards the tabletop she tapped on it.
"Bring me Joe."
The bartender wiping the glass paused and glanced at Mina a few times.
"Keep staring and I’ll gouge out your eyes."
The bartender froze after remembering something and quickly moved inside.
Moments later a grizzly-bearded man with a bulging pot belly came out and observed Mina for a few moments.
"Ohh! So it’s you? Can you stop coming in disguise? It’s a pain in the ass. Also the higher-ups are getting annoyed by your willful nature." Joe spat out in frustration.
Mina’s eyes sharpened. "I did all the tasks I was assigned. Where I go in the free time is my freedom."
Joe raised his hand and shrugged. "You can do what you want as long as you don’t drag the hounds into trouble."
"Hmph."
"Okay so why are you here today?"
"I am here for a commission." Mina said and then slammed a bag on the counter.
Joe raised his eyes in caution. Grabbing the bag he opened it to take a look inside. It was filled with bundles of notes.
He took out one that had a denomination of 100. His face turned frigid.
"A 100 denomination!" he exclaimed in shock and horror.
The currency used in Atalanta was denominated in Dens with the face of the current King.
The most commonly circulated notes were 1 5 10 50 and 100.
A note of 10 was enough to feed a commoner family of three for a few days and 100 was enough to survive for a month.
Joe saw 20 bundles with a stack of 10.
"Did you save this much or is it someone else’s?" he asked jealously.
"Does it matter?" Mina glared.
"Just take the order and finish it."
"What is the order?"
"There is a slip in it."
Joe saw a small slip below the stash. He took it out and saw neatly assembled words.
"Wahh! That’s some god-level writing." He eyed Mina while reading it before suddenly stopping.
"Are you serious right now?"
"Yes!" Mina nodded.
"If you are serious then this isn’t enough. You want to go after a fucking Wargrave with such a measly sum."
Mina expected this much. She shoved the bag forward and got up.
"This is an advance payment. The rest of the money will be given after you finish the task. Remember that it can only be done by him and him alone."
Saying this she walked away leaving Joe bewildered.
***********
Leaving the rain-slicked courtyard and stepping into the manor’s grand hall he moved silently.
In contrast to the frantic shouting of the guards Masked man seemed to merge into the gloom. He was as inconspicuous as an ember fading into ash.
He drew no weapon immediately. He simply headed towards his destination, the upper sanctum of the Black Hand,a syndicate where the dregs of the city’s underworld gathered.
The estate had the grandeur of a noble’s manor though stained by the corruption of its owner.
Leaving the opulent foyer and entering the corridors one inevitably encountered the opulence bought by blood money. Gilded statues stood beside racks of torture implements and the air was thick with the smell of cheap perfume and copper.
While the city’s elites toasted beneath crystal chandeliers the syndicate’s enforcers swarmed the halls with steam-powered rifles and drawn cutlasses. Their illicit trade benefited their boss while making life a living hell for the commoners they bled dry.
A dozen guards rushed into the corridor with their weapons raised.
The masked man eyes sharpened.
Drawing upon Shadow Guise his physical form melted into the dim lighting of the hall and vanished from sight.
"Where did he go?!" one of the men roared as he turned wildly.
Using Shadow Steps Masked man glided across the floor without a whisper of sound.
A subtle twist of his wrist here and a precise palm strike there left the guards slumped unconscious in the shadows before they even realized they had been struck.
Reaching the grand staircase where a barricade of enforcers stood ready he executed a Shadow Leap. His body blurred upward and vaulted over their heads in a trailing arc of darkness completely bypassing their defense before landing soundlessly on the second-floor balcony.
Swiftly passing through the upper corridors and ignoring the commotion below,the Masked man appeared before the heavy oak doors of the master’s office.
Taking a step he pushed open the door. A strong pungent smell of panic spilled wine and imported cigars wafted through the air.
’As always these bastards reek of fear when cornered.’ He snorted inwardly as he made his way inside.
Striding towards the massive mahogany desk his gaze fell upon the syndicate boss. The fatso was backed against the floor-to-ceiling window. His bulging belly heaved as he trembled in terror.
"Who hired you to kill me?!" the boss shouted. His voice cracked as he backed away. "I will pay double... No I will pay triple! Please spare me please!"
The man stared at the fatso and chuckled.
"Everyone in the industry knows that I don’t kill wantonly. Your death won’t be decided by me but rather..." He paused and reached into his coat before taking out a heavy dull-silver coin. "...by the grace of the Celestial who oversees justice. This coin will be the judge."
He flipped the coin rhythmically across his knuckles.
"Now choose a side. One will decide your death while the other will decide your life."
The fatso’s face turned livid as he cursed inwardly at having to go through such a sick nuisance. But since a chance at survival was dangling in front of him he didn’t want to let it go.
"I want to toss it!" the boss demanded. Desperation made him bold.
"Your wish." The man smiled and threw the coin to the fatso who grabbed it hurriedly and clung to it like a lifeline.
He held the metal in his sweaty palms and took a close look at the intricate carvings with trembling eyes.
"H-Head... I choose head!" he stammered.
"Very well. Flip it."
The fatso flicked his thumb and sent the coin flashing into the air. It caught the dim light of the steam lamp and spun in a rapid blur of silver before descending.
It hit the polished hardwood floor with a sharp clink. It bounced for a few tense moments before rolling lazily in a curve and finally settled flat.
"Tail."the Masked man muttered.
"Nooooooo!" the fatso roared.
Abandoning all hope he turned around to throw his massive body through the glass window but he was a second too late.
A sleek blade shot out from the darkness whistling through the air and pierced straight through the back of his skull. It pinned him dead against the shattered frame.