Pearl left the cellar after exactly one minute. One minute of interrogration, of very weird sounds that were indescribable. He closed the door behind him without a sound, the faint creak of the hinges echoing like a dying whisper in the hall. His sleeves were still rolled up, and his hands... Oh lord, those snobby, scholarly hands that I thought would be used to turn pages or trace runes, were painted deep red. He didn’t look back at the door, and didn’t say much, either. The man took off his glasses from his collar, wiped them with a clean handkerchief from his breastpocket. "He’s ready to talk." Pearl said. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹✶𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲✶𝗻𝗲𝘁 "Already?" I blinked. "...You’re kidding... Did you offer him some head or something?" Weird joke I made there, and I regretted it as both Pearl and Olga looked at me funny. "No." Pearl shook his head once. "And he haven’t told me anything yet, he wanted all three of us in here before he talked, for safety, I assumed... But my play time is up, I am logging off, Mei found this restaurant she wanted to try." "Have fun with your sister." Olga nodded with her arms crossed. And with that, he opened his UI, tapped the air, and shimmered into the logout animation before I could add a damn thing. The silence that followed was deafening. Olga and I just stood there, staring at the cellar door. Neither of us moved, the blood that was dripping from Pearl’s fingers had smeared across the wooden frame as he brushed past it, and for a moment, I swore on my baby mommas I saw steam rising from where the droplets touched. "With a scythe..." Olga let out a low exhale. "Yeah," I muttered. "I’d rather give him a sword... Then I’ll actually be able to comprehend what he did." We glanced at each other, two melee warriors who’d seen plenty of gore, but somehow terrified by whatever was waiting behind that door... Hey, edgy but rhymed. I swallowed hard, forcing my hand to the handle but did not budge. "Hey," I said quickly, trying to sound casual, "if the moderators ask, we’ll both agree that Pearl’s the one who tortured the guy, yeah? You and me, we’re clean." "... No?" the Russian woman shot me a frown. "You kicked him across the face." "Uh...That’s called encouragement." "You also verbally abused him." "Emotionally encouragement." I pouted, crossing my arms. "Sure thing." She shrugged. Then after a second of the door not moving, and none of us really want to open it, I commented: "You seemed like a tough woman, but you’re hesitant too I see." Olga snorted but didn’t argue, because we both knew we were just stalling. She took the iniative after a short second of taking more deep breath, and as the door swung open, I almost pregnant-woman vomit from the thick, metallic stench of blood and sweat that made our stomach twist. The torches flickered dimly, revealing that behind those kegs, barrels and boxes, was the same man slumping against the wall, still tied up by his wrist on top of his legs, blindfold still on. The terrifying thing now was his shirt being shredded, his body covered in bruises and shallow cuts, some oozing faintly red. One shoulder hung at a wrong angle, dislocated maybe, his jaws hung as if literally unhinged, both his knees seemed to be damage, visible through the fact that his pants were now teenage jeans with exposed knees. His breath came in harsh, uneven gasps as he flinched at the sound of footsteps. A puddle of diluted blood formed beneath him, streaking the stone floor like spilled ink. And here I am, wondering why didn’t he just log out? "This is unacceptable..." Olga’s voice came out low. "...What the hell did Pearl do to him? It’s just a game." "Beats me." I stepped closer, eyes scanning the scene. "Couldn’t have been spells... I couldn’t imagine any that would do this. Maybe... some kind of Asian pressure points impact technique that caused internal damage?" "Inconceivable..." Olga knelt beside the man, hesitating to touch. "Maybe he just scared him with psychological magic." We exchanged a look, because neither of us really wanted to know the answer. The man stirred slightly, head twitching toward the sound of our footsteps. Then, as if he sensed our presence being different from the guy who tortured him, his hoarse voice cracked through the still air. Olga looked around, grabbed a bottle of fine wine from one of the nearby barrels and poured a bit near his mouth. He drank greedily, trembling, and for the first time, actually looked alive. "Alright," I said, crouching in front of him. "You’re finally talking. That’s good. Let’s start with something easy, what’s your name, soldier?" "Ja... ah..." He coughed once, spit red. "...Jared." "Okay, Jared," Olga said quietly. "Why were you in that dungeon? Why did you attack us?" "N... No." His breathing steadied, just a little. "I... I didn’t mean to attack anyone." "Sure you didn’t, I’ll ask simpler questions then," I muttered, "Tell me, what class were you in that dungeon?" "I’m..." He swallowed. "I’m was a Warlock. I asked a favor to race change and became a Half-Vampire." "Huh..." I frowned. "What level were you when you did the quest?" "Bullshit." I told him. "Yeah... No." Even Olga blinked. "That’s not wise, at all... The Warlock [wish] thing is not worth it for such a reward..." "Not to say Half-Vampire is useless... In fact, it’s quite strong with its blood magic and stat buffs..." I added, "But most of its spells and perks can’t be used until you’re level 120... Which is the level in which the class unlocks for everyone, so either you’re lying, or you’re double-lying." "I’m not!" He protested. I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "You’re telling me you’re smart and capable enough to do a Warlock Wish quest, but then you’re dumb enough to then cast blood magic in the middle of a dungeon where nine players could jump you and beat your ass silly?" He hesitated with an answer. "Wow," I muttered. "You’re either the dumbest player alive or the bravest idiot I’ve ever met... Or a mercenary?" "A mercenary?" Olga leaned forward, pondering the possibility of my suggestion as she continued. "Why did you wait in that dungeon, Jared? If you weren’t attacking, what were you doing there?" He went quiet again, a full ten seconds of silence. The only sound was the faint dripping from a broken wine barrel. "I was hired." He finally said. "Hired?" I repeated rhetorically. "Hired." He nodded, weakly. "Someone told me to go there, and they said I’d get a thousand gold coins if I killed the woman with red hair." "Who??" Olga’s head snapped up. "Who hired you?" "Someone from Destiny... The largest guild in the PC version" I looked at Olga, and for once, she wasn’t the unbreakable mountain she usually was. Her brows furrowed deeply, her mouth parting as if she wanted to argue, but no words came, her fist balled up and her lips trembled. Someone from under her was trying to assassinate her, was what we’re hearing. After Destiny and Omnitetris merged, the new guild—New Destiny—had both sides constantly at each other’s throats. The first and second-in-command were ex-Omnitetris, which never sat well with the ex-Destiny veterans. And Olga, the second-in-command beast, ex-Omnitetris that she is, was a walking reminder of that imbalance, especially when we got a court accusing her of killing 7 of ex-Destiny for no reason. "Do you think that’s true?" I asked her. "I... I am..." Olga exhaled slowly. "...I don’t want to think that it’s true." "But," She clenched her fist even tighter. "It’s possible." I didn’t push further, instead I turned back to Jared. "So. You’re practically a hired hand, a merc, welcome to the business... A lot of you bastards been showing up lately... So you’re get paid to do the dirty work. Fine... But then who told you where to wait? How’d you even know we were going to that dungeon that day?" "I didn’t know," he said. "My... friend did." "They’re one of the ex-Destiny players. He said the target would come there eventually. He told me to stay put, use my magic, and the rest would take care of itself, because veryone else in that group... They were in on it, too." "YOU BASTARD!" Olga’s eyes widened as she fisted the wall. "You’re lying!" she shouted, stepping closer. "No way all seven of them wanted to kill me! They’re not that kind of people, I know at least three of them personally!" Her voice cracked, though far from rage, more in the sense of utter disbelief. "Olga," I raised a hand. "You should calm down, let me try and handle this." "Tch... This bastard better tell a better story soon." Olga stepped back reluctantly, though her knuckles were both white from how tight she was holding her sword hilt, and red from her own blood when she punched the wall so hard it tore her skin. "Alright, Jared..." I crouched again, lowering my tone. "You want us to believe you? Tell us who this friend is." "No... No I can’t..." His lips quivered. He turned his head away. "I see, snitches get stitches, right? A rat would get his asshole penetrated in the cells, I see... I’m not going to hurt you or push you any further, but maybe, hmm..." I jerked my chin toward the door. "... How about we bring Pearl back in here? Let him take over?" The moment Pearl’s name left my mouth, Jared snapped in frantic. "No! Don’t, please!" He tried to crawl backward even with his wrists tied and back already against the wall, panic flaring in his voice. "I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you! I’ll say! But not !" "But not like what?" Olga asked. He panted for a few seconds before forcing out the words. "I’ll talk... but in front of everyone. The whole guild of yours... I want witnesses. I want this recorded, that’s the only way I’ll feel safe... What if I tell you what you wanna hear and you’ll silence me?" The room fell quiet again. Olga looked at me, eyes flickering with uncertainty. I looked back, trying to read her face; part fury, part exhaustion. If this Jared guy was telling the truth, then someone inside our own guild had ordered a hit on their second-in-command. That was an offense, to which I think, is comparable to a chancellor trying to murder the king. But what if he wasn’t telling the truth? Then we were about to air a very bloody lie in front of the entire New Destiny, and it could kickstart a tinderbox of explosions.