“The key aspect of a successful hunt is silence.” Perched on a massive bronze gargoyle, Ghost silently listened to Kariel’s words.
He was indeed born with knowledge of many things, but not the ones Kariel was talking about now.
He was still too young to understand the laws by which the world beneath his feet lived.
Inborn knowledge only gave rise to more questions.
“As you can see, there are tens of thousands of gangs throughout Quintus.
Their territories are divided very clearly, down to some inconspicuous alley.
This means that if you don’t act quietly, other gangs will hear the noise of the killing.” “Aren’t they already used to killings?” Ghost asked, puzzled.
“Do they care about noise from another gang’s territory?” “The sounds civilians and gang members make when they die are different, Ghost.” Kariel stretched his lips into a cruel smile.
“Civilians die, and that’s it.
Few of them cling to life; there are also plenty of suicides.
Where do you think all those bodies with no visible damage come from at the corpse incineration plants?
All from disease?” “As for gang members… you’ve killed them.
Tell me, Ghost, what sounds do they make when they die?” “Curses,” Ghost replied after thinking.
“They curse me and say someone will avenge them.” “And not only that.” Kariel waved his left hand, and the smile on his pale face grew even wider.
“Also gunshots… Ghost.
They will shoot nonstop.
If you can’t muffle the sound like I can, you’d better act quietly.” “Then why don’t you muffle the sounds for me?” “Because this is your solo hunt.” Kariel loosened the muscles of his neck and shoulders, squinting.
“Listen, I’m going to die someday.
I’m an ordinary man; I can’t tear open armored vehicles with a wave of my hand like you can… And you, Ghost, obviously share some common goal with me.” “So I’ll teach you everything I know.
And then, even if I die, you’ll be able to change this accursed place.
In that case, even after death, I will be very happy.” Having said this, Kariel shrugged.
Ghost listened to him silently with a calm expression.
He kept nodding, but his face showed that he didn’t fully understand the meaning of Kariel’s words.
And once again, Kariel Lokhars felt a sharp irony looking at this naivety.
“You naive little monster… why did you have to appear on Nostramo?” Kariel shook his head with a smile.
“Go,” he said.
“One gang.
Wipe them all out.” Ghost walked to the edge of the gargoyle.
At the very moment he was about to jump, he suddenly stopped.
He turned to Kariel and said: “Murder won’t solve the problem, Kariel.
That’s what you told me.” “Yes.” “Then why do we keep destroying these gangs?” “Do the job.
Clean them out so the other gangs don’t notice, and I’ll tell you the answer.” “Really?” “I’ve never lied to you.” Ghost hesitated no longer.
He nodded and jumped off the gargoyle.
Kariel watched him until the tall shadow finally dissolved into the night, and only then did he sigh.
“Only eighteen months old…” he muttered.
“What kind of psychopath created such a monster and abandoned him right here in Quintus?” … “The coroner from House Skraivok is dead,” said the bald man.
He had no lips, and his face was disfigured by countless piercings that were hard to look at.
His torso was bare, and chains came out of his wrists, deeply embedded in the flesh and stretching down to his waist.
It was a strange and frightening sight.
Piercings were a common thing.
Many gang members liked to decorate their faces to stand out.
The same went for body modifications — there were plenty of masochists here.
But the cut-off lips were the point.
It meant he belonged to the “Knocking Teeth” gang.
It meant he belonged to a noble family from the Upper Hive.
“I heard that woman had a special metal arm, so strong it could crush the head of a fanged bull with one blow.
How did she die?” In a room lit by candles, another woman asked.
She was dressed in a puffy white dress with numerous folds.
Her waist was thin, and her exposed chest was soft and white.
Beautiful to look at, but around her neck was a necklace skillfully made from human bones.
The bald man looked at her irritably and snapped venomously: “Are you just blabbering, Guvas?
Everyone knows House Skraivok is rolling in money, and if you serve them like a dog, you can get anything.
What difference does it make who killed her?
What matters is where her corpse is!” “Oh, who knows, Kangja, who knows.
Maybe I am just blabbering out of boredom… but you’d better talk to me more politely.” The woman laughed coquettishly, and her lips, painted with human blood, slowly stretched into a smile.
“I just got a batch of hallucinogens from the very top recently… if you don’t want to wake up one day and find yourself strung up by your own men, ready to be skinned alive, show me a little respect.” The man called Kangja snorted coldly.
He raised his right hand and stroked his exposed teeth.
With his free left hand, he continuously dug his sharp nails into the flesh of his own thigh.
He needed a little physical pleasure to remind himself not to lose his mind.
“Enough,” the third person in the hall, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
Compared to Guvas’s puffy court dress and Kangja’s brutal body modifications, he, in his black clothes, seemed like the only normal person here.
“We have nothing to do with House Skraivok,” he said emotionlessly.
“That’s not our concern.” “But House Skraivok is always generous, Prey,” said Kangja.
“Don’t you think we should get our share?” “Whoever dared to kill the coroner of House Skraivok on the eve of the Great Purge is too much for us,” Prey shook his head calmly.
“And even if we’re lucky enough to find her corpse… how will we solve the problem House Skraivok will throw at us?
They will certainly want to know who killed their coroner.” Kangja nodded thoughtfully, which contrasted sharply with the irritability he showed when talking to Guvas.
“So, do we declare a curfew?” the beauty Guvas asked.
She squinted and, as she said this, pulled out an object resembling a syringe from her purse on the table.
Through the transparent casing, the mesmerizing crimson color inside was clearly visible.
“Not yet.
And inject yourself less.
The addiction to Type Three Blood Mixture is too strong.
You’ll burn out your brain.
Look at your lips — you’re already hooked on human blood, aren’t you?” Guvas licked her lips, savoring the taste of blood, and nodded absently.
The mere sight of the syringe clouded her vision, her breathing quickened, and a blush appeared on her cheeks.
Kangja, watching this, sneered coldly.
That’s what happens to those addicted to Type Three Blood Mixture.
At any unpredictable moment, a wave of addiction can wash over them.
If they don’t drink blood or inject a dose, this mad state can last for several days.
Seeing this, Prey irritably grabbed a gilded plate from the long table and threw it, knocking the syringe out of Guvas’s hand.
The woman’s first reaction was not anger, but an instinctive lunge, like a dog.
She crawled on the carpet, trying to find the syringe.
Her actions continued until a black leather boot stepped on her right hand.
Guvas looked up and saw Prey’s emotionless face.
“I shouldn’t have let you deal with the hallucinogens…” Prey said quietly, his left foot beginning to press down, cruelly grinding against Guvas’s palm.
Bald Kangja bared his teeth in a grin.
Guvas turned pale from the pain, but dared not move.
“You have absolutely no self-control, and that’s only half the problem… In normal times, your debauchery doesn’t matter, but now lives are at stake, and you’re thinking about shooting up!” Guvas lowered her head, not daring to speak.
Prey looked at her coldly, withdrew his foot, and turned to leave.
“Clean up the corpse in the church.
I’m going to the mansion.
The Great Purge is coming soon, and I have to make the final arrangements.” “What do we do with Father’s corpse?” Kangja’s question stopped him.
“Father was a loyal dog of House Skraivok — let House Skraivok handle him.” Prey kicked her in frustration, sending her sliding across the table.
He finally lost his composure and burst into a stream of curses.
“Not only is it bad enough that this is some private soldier’s damn fault, this accursed avenging spirit, but now the deaths of Father and Razor, too!
They were torn to pieces and left in that damned church, and we, dammit, had to clean it all up!” “The Great Purge is about to start, Guvas!” Prey stood up from the table and glared furiously at the bleeding woman.
Her first reaction wasn’t to stop the bleeding, but to keep touching her bloody nose and bringing the blood to her lips.
Her face was an expression of ecstasy.
Finally, undisguised disappointment appeared on Prey’s face.
He stared at Guvas and opened his mouth again.
Because of that, he didn’t notice the dark shadow that flashed past the window, and he ignored the quiet sounds that came through the curtain of rain.
Those sounds were like tearing flesh.
“Kangja has established ties with the Chattering Teeth.
That means we won’t have to pay protection money to survive this Great Purge after all.
And you’re drowning in hallucinogens and can’t even claw your way out…” “Look at yourself.
A beggar dying of the Black Plague in a factory would be better off than you…” .”..Prey?” Kangja blinked, not understanding why Prey had fallen silent.
He certainly wouldn’t have minded seeing Guvas punished or even thrown out of the gang.
He would have gladly taught that hallucinogen-peddling fool a lesson.
But Prey’s silence stopped everything.
He turned and looked at Prey.
And his eyes went wide with horror.
He didn’t see Prey.
More precisely, he didn’t see Prey’s head.
A headless body swayed by the window, where acid rain was lashing in.
They hadn’t even noticed when that window opened.
Kangja shot to his feet, simultaneously drawing his pistol and trying to shout for help from the gang members waiting outside the door.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
A long, pale hand had already grabbed him by the neck.
“Goodbye,” the Ghost said politely.
“By the way, your windows open very easily.” The next moment, a dull crunch rang out.
The last thing Kangja saw in his life was a splinter of white bone, stained crimson.
Half a second later, as his consciousness began to fade, he finally understood what that bone was.
It was a fragment of a vertebra.
Whose was it?
With that question, he sank forever into eternal darkness.
The Ghost tossed aside the head with its fragment of spine and turned to Guvas, who was left in the room.
He had heard the entire conversation between the three gang leaders while standing outside.
He knew her name and knew she was addicted to blood.
Actually…
the last part was easy enough to tell from her behavior.
A normal person wouldn’t throw themselves at a comrade’s corpse and greedily drink its blood.
The Ghost mercilessly approached her.
Outside the window, the downpour continued.