By The Blood

The men exchanged glances before, like zombies, they stood and left the table. Sometimes charm is more like a mind worm's mind reform. Perhaps the two creatures share the same origin, she thought. Then, she took a glance at the young boy. He still sat, staring at the gang leaders. So even a full-powered charm doesn’t do anything? Last time I got a twitch, but now I get nothing. Is he getting stronger? Or does he simply have experience with pleasure, enough to be numb to it? She paused. As if. Pleasure isn’t something that can be numbed to. More heights can always exist.

Karl glanced at the lady. At some point, he felt that she had become very beautiful, devoid of flaws, and seemed like something sprinkled with gold. But unlike before, he felt a greater strength swell within him. It accumulated, pushing away the feelings.

She used her charm? Was it on me? Or those men? But even if it wasn’t on me, what if it had worked? What would she have done? He frowned, looking back at the gang leaders’ seats.

Until now, they had remained mostly silent, watching as the buzz of the room swelled up. Are they still waiting for Harrison? He must have great value to them. Realistically, it made no sense for the entire meeting to be put on hold because of one person. This meant he was either the organizer, had something crucial, or had a value that gave him that power.

The Poison Fang gang. They control Thales Market and other small places, and although they have not yet done anything that would warrant an Invigilator, working with a Newman must be something they wish to keep secret. They are powerful, have influence, and control multiple people’s lives...and freedoms. He recalled Fredrick’s words. I need to be in a position of power, to build myself up in any way I can...I have to... No. I need to take over the Poison Fang. That way, their influence, power...control. It will all be mine.

He glanced at Jean. She seemed to be thinking about something. "Who are the leaders?" he asked. Although he knew their names, which he’d learned from the chatter of the men, what he wanted to know was what the men didn’t know.

Quickly, Jean replied, "That one is Heinrich, and the other is Galf," she said, pointing at the gang leaders on the stage, in front of the room. "Heinrich is a pleasure master and the true owner of the brothel. Galf is a Maw person and is considered the brute among the gang leaders. They all share equal power."

"And the last one?" Karl glanced at the empty seat.

"That one belongs to Harrison. His standing is strange, but he receives rent from several buildings in the city, especially those in the slums." She seemed to have no objections or barriers to the questions.

So they pay him for something. What does he offer them? As a member of the Newmen, he should have evolved and would know the corresponding knowledge of the creature and where to find one. Did he sell that information to the gang? That would make sense. As a gang, having access to a branch would be impossible, and deciding to widely evolve is dangerous as certain components are too strong, and the pain of evolution can lead to broken wills, which leads to death. In the end, branch knowledge seems to be the only thing he can be offering them... But...

He recalled how the thug treated that beastwoman. These are gang leaders. Even if knowledge is what Harrison offers, it can't be what is keeping him in power. He either has a leash on the other leaders or he is offering them something else. He turned to Jean.

"Has anything significant happened with the Order of Newmans?" It didn’t take long to realize that she was a vixen, and from the knowledge of known factions, the Pleasure Pavilion was the most linked to vixens. If anything, they likely owned the branch.

Jean smiled and stretched out her hand, allowing something to crawl out from her clothes. A black spider came out, crawling to her neck as if trying to bite into it. "A few weeks ago, the Order of Newmans and the..." She paused, as if hesitant. She then took one of the leftover bottles on the table and drank the contents. "The Pleasure Pavilion were involved in a battle. The Order ambushed the Pavilion when they were transporting a certain item."

"Does it have anything to do with souls?" Karl realized that souls seemed to be a recurring theme with the Order of Newmans. And for a faction that preached about being the next step in humanity, they used a lot of human souls.

"No," Jean shrugged. "Or more like, I don’t know."

A secret kept by her faction? Karl looked away from her. Something had caught his eye.

On the left side of the stage, a brown door swung open, revealing a man dressed in a hooded robe as he walked in. He had yellowish hair that seemed to merge perfectly with his sea-blue eyes, yet despite the initial color, his robe still had taints of red, enough for it to be considered a blackish-red robe. He entered with a few men, all of whom quickly took seats throughout the room.

Harrison! Karl lowered his gaze. He needed to first identify the man's position, his class, and how many times he had evolved. He needed to know all these things in order to truly kill the man without any errors.

He only knew two evolutions within the order of newmans: the green-faced squid and the mist-faced man. And the impression he got from them was that they were weird, a bizarre branch. But these were just his thoughts, as he hadn't really come into contact with enough branches to accurately understand the essence of it. Nonetheless, he was bothered by what other power Harrison could have. Despite the cognizer's words, there was a chance that he had evolved since then.

Karl had expected some kind of grand entrance from the man who was being awaited by the other gang leaders. But he simply strolled in and took a seat, staring coldly at the crowd.

Heinrich stood up, crossing his arms behind his back. The action was followed by the gradual silencing of the thugs. Karl frowned, watching this like a silent observer.

He began to wonder if Heinrich was actually the true leader of the gang; his power to silence such a group of rugged men was too suspicious. Was it his evolution? Maybe. But even with the strength that came from the memories, he felt a certain presence from him... like he was an unmoving mountain. Even with his age, the presence seemed strong. Is this some sanguine power? he thought, his frown deepening.

Once the room fell quiet, Heinrich began to speak. "We have an important matter to discuss. For that reason, this meeting was made available to anyone willing to come. However, we made sure that safety is somewhat granted." His voice was hoarse as if he were forcing air down his lungs. "We are going to rob the Pure White Ministry."

........

There was silence within the room.

What? Steal from the Pure White Ministry? Are they mad? What are they even thinking? He frowned at the naivety of these people. But then he thought again about it. Perhaps there was a chance. Yes, the Pure White was colossal, but maybe the gang could do it. Maybe they can actually do it. Unknowingly, a smile curled on his face.

Beside Karl, Jean also curled up a smile. "Perhaps they have a path to achieving this?" she said. "There won't be any harm in trying."

Karl nodded, feeling there was no mistake in her reasoning. This seemed like a reasonable plan.

Heinrich continued to speak. "It may seem like an impossibility, but I assure you that it isn't. Since the attack on the white bank, the invigilators have been weak. They are busy trying to soothe the masses and reinforce themselves, even requesting legionaries to the city. With all this going on, this is the perfect time to do this."

The crowd of thugs exchanged glances, with most still locked in their wine feast. But then, a thug from the back raised his hand. "That's impossible!" he roared. "This is the Pure White Ministry we're talking about, not some weak faction. They have God on their side. This is doomed to fail before we even start."

Heinrich stared with a scrutinizing gaze. "That does not matter. We can do it. But I suppose you do need assurance." He dipped his hand into his clothes, taking out a fist-sized round ball. It seemed to be made of bronze with a netted surface that revealed a white glow within.

Isn't that a soul bomb? Karl lowered his head; something was off.

"This is a soul bomb. With enough of it, even the special classes cannot do anything to us," Heinrich said, raising the ball higher for all to see.

There was a moment of silence that stretched far through the room. Karl glanced away from the man, looking at the table. Something is wrong. Why am I accepting this mission? It's obviously suicide, destined to fail before it even starts. So why do I want to accept it? With that thought, he shook his head. Something is definitely wrong. He closed his eyes.

He concentrated, using the accumulated strength to feel through his emotions. He wanted to know the reason for his sudden beliefs; Was it a change that came from the memories or something else? Just then, he sensed a subtle touch. A feeling as though a gentle hand was caressing his body as if playing with his emotions like tendrils.

He couldn't accurately describe the feeling. It was like a calm flow that drowned and subsequently triggered certain emotions. Like he was being soothed and at the same time ignited in certain emotions.

He could suddenly feel it. He felt excited when Heinrich spoke about the feasibility of the plan. He felt angered when the man spoke about the power of the Ministry. He felt that Heinrich was great and worthy of his devotion... his life.

His eyes sprang open.

These emotions aren't mine! He turned his head swiftly, glancing at the other person who might have done it: Jean. However, she was also showing similar signs, with her face curling into a smile and her hands occasionally rising to pump a fist. He screened through the room, seeing everyone with similar actions.

He began to feel a certain powerlessness. Somebody is controlling everyone? Controlling me too? Even here, some people would do that. Not just Frederick, a task-enforcer or some flesh cultivator, but a common thug? Somebody is willing to do that to me? Why? Because I look weak? Because I'm a child? They want to restrict my path, don't they? Everything I want, I can't have. And even here, somebody is willing to do that again! His emotions were spilling out faster than he could resist them. His thoughts were a manifestation of that.

His eyes darted. He realized that whoever was controlling them would surely not be affected. He froze as he understood the implication. He looked at the gang leaders: the three men were unaffected, simply either seated calmly or talking in tones that seemed to induce a desire to obey, to accept, to understand. This was bad! He did not like this. He did not want this.

Calm down!

But will it be them? If it was, wouldn't it upset the balance? Would the rest be okay with one of them having the power to control them? Would anyone be okay with that? No! Which means it isn't them. It has to be someone else—someone they can better control with something. A leverage maybe, or... money? But if that's the case, the person should be in hiding.

I don't know the height of power in evolution, but to be able to cause such an effect in so many minds, the person should either be above the advanced class or the power has requirements to achieve this. They are either close by or not. And... He clenched his jaw. He suddenly felt the sensation—the soothing—intensify.

The room suddenly erupted in cheers, as men and others rose up, pumping fists and cheering on the magnificent plan. Even Jean beside him had also stood up, pumping her fist in the air.

Karl also wanted to join them. No! He narrowed his eyes. His vision grew sharper and more precise. He saw the actions: the pumping of fists and the various movements made by everyone. But what was he even looking for?