Chapter 34: News from the capital.

Its sharp fangs sank deep into Recaldo’s fleshy wrist injecting a large volume of poison directly into his body.

Zyra winced, "I didn’t say kill him!"

"Yaaaaah!" Recaldo shrieked, a high-pitched sound that definitely didn’t match his tough guy persona. He stumbled backward out of his chair, knocking over a stack of betting slips, clutching his bleeding arm in absolute horror.

Spice slid gracefully back to Zyra, winding around her arm again and looking very proud of itself.

Zyra leaned over the desk, her face calm, completely unbothered by the horrific smell in the room. It was too late, to change things. Her voice was steady and chillingly polite. "Now, listen to me very carefully, Boss Recaldo. You are not the one in charge of this conversation anymore. Give me Magnus right now if you want the antidote. Choose between the golden goose and your life."

She spoke with absolute, unwavering certainty, but it was false. She was not sure if there was an antidote and even if the system had one, she was not sinking into deeper debt for someone like Recaldo.

Recaldo’s face turned from angry red to a pale, sickly green. His hand was already swelling, and the burning pain was shooting up his elbow. He trembled violently, fear completely taking control of his greedy mind.

"Are you... are you insane?!" Recaldo choked out, his voice shaking. "Do you know who I am? Do you know what my boss will do to you?"

"I know that I am counting down from ten," Zyra replied smoothly, crossing her arms. "And at zero, your heart stops beating. Seven... six..."

Seeing their boss in mortal danger, the two bodyguards forced themselves through the disgusting stench and dizziness. With angry roars, they drew their heavy iron daggers, their faces twisted in rage as they stepped toward Zyra, ready to hack her to pieces.

Zyra didn’t even flinch. She slowly turned her head, looking at the sharp blades, and then glanced back at the trembling agent.

"Oh, by the way," Zyra added cheerfully, "tell your little dogs that if they so much as lay a single finger on me, or if I even stumble, I will drop the antidote bottle on the floor and smash it. Then we can all watch you turn black and blue together."

Recaldo looked at his men, then at Zyra’s terrifyingly calm eyes. Death was staring him right in the face.

"Stop! Drop your weapons! Step back, you idiots!" Recaldo screamed at his bodyguards, his voice cracking in pure panic. The guards froze, looking confused, but slowly lowered their daggers.

Recaldo looked up at Zyra, tears of pain and terror leaking from his eyes. He swallowed hard, nodding rapidly. "Okay! Okay! You win! I’ll take you to Magnus! Just give me the damn antidote!"

"Lead the way first," Zyra said, gesturing toward the door with a polite smile. "The moment I see Magnus in one piece; you get your life back."

The fact that he was still standing meant that Spice had controlled its venom. Recaldo had not received a full dose, like Hans. But within thirty minutes, the man would not be standing, unless she actually gave him the antidote.

But she didn’t want Recaldo and his goons hunting them after they escaped. So that antidote would never see the light of day.

Recaldo clutched his throbbing arm, stumbling toward the door. "Follow me. I’ll take you to him."

*********

In one of the biggest offices at the top of that very same building, two men were having a private conversation. They were sharing a bottle of expensive wine.... the kind you only found in the powerful households of the capital, not small towns like Greenwich.

A man named Hunter Magnus Kaelion sat in the boss’s big leather chair. He was handsome, with a sharp, chiseled face and shoulder length blonde hair that was tied back with black hairband. His face had a harshness that seemed to be fixed on permanently, as if he was angry with the world and suspicious of everyone.

He broad, powerful shoulders that filled out the seat. His long, muscular legs were propped right up on the old mahogany table, casually rocking from side to side. As he turned his head, his sharp blue eyes caught the light. They were as clear and cold as a predator’s stare.

"So," Hunter asked the equally good looking tall, orange haired man siting opposite him, "what news did you bring back from your little trip to the capital Achilles? Not more shampoo I hope."

It was a joke made without a smile, but it was also serious. Achilles had long curly orange hair that was treated with more luxury that the hair of any woman they had both ever met. Achilles had one rule in a fight. Touch anything--not his hair. Touching his hair was equal to death.

Achilles, didn’t answer right away. He stood up, walked over to the high window, and looked out. From here, almost the entire town of Greenwich stretched out below them like a grass carpet. He let out a long sigh and turned back to his cousin.

"You know, Hunt, I expected to see you at the arena last night," Achilles said, a smug grin spreading across his face. "I tore several beasts apart. You should be proud. All that brutal training you put me through actually paid off. I am almost as feared as you are. People just don’t whisper, ’the butcher’ when they see me coming." He chuckled.

Hunter didn’t look impressed. He set his wine glass down with a sharp clack and made an impatient, clicking sound with his tongue. This was not what he was interested in. Just as he was not interested in being called Hunt.

Achilles just laughed. He was used to his cousin’s sour mood. He rested his butt against the wide windowpane, crossing his arms.

"Anyway, your family is doing fine," Achilles said, his voice dropping into a softer, more emotional tone. "They’re still waiting for you. Uncle Horace wants you to come home, Hunt. It’s been seven years. Seven years! Not even a letter?"

Hunter remained silent. It was his signature move. Whenever he had absolutely no intention of answering a question or responding to anything, he just turned into a hard wall.

Achilles sighed and nodded. He knew better than to push that button too hard. Changing the subject, he leaned forward. "The capital seems normal on the surface. People are walking around, buying bread, doing business. But underneath? It’s a total mess. And it’s all because of that missing soul maiden... Zyra Scorpion."

Hearing the name, Hunter’s lips curled into a sharp smirk. "So, my instincts were right."

"When are you ever wrong?" Achilles chuckled, rolling his eyes. "The Mayor is in a terrible mood. He’s practically throwing bags of gold at different guilds just to find this Zyra girl. But all the reports coming back are exactly the same.... the girl is presumed to be dead. Eaten by monsters in the Wild lands. They found her blood apparently, and pieces of a car and some ripped clothing. Two high level beasts were in the area.

Many people from Myrtle are confined at the mayor’s mansion, including the girl’s brother." Achilles walked back to the table and poured himself another splash of wine. "All the high officials are sweating through their expensive shirts. Even your mother is completely bothered by this.

For a soul maiden that didn’t awaken her bloodline, all the powerful clans in the Jersey Republic are losing their minds. The capital is about to turned upside down. Maybe we should go to the Wild lands and take a look. What do you think?"