Closing the door behind him, Renato briefly glanced at Leon the Chameleon, dropping his keys on a table and stopping by the wall with a collage of mugshots of various men and women.
And with this, there's seventy-two.
Pinning the most recent photo, he stood there, staring. Then he turned, training a gun on the man seated in his couch.
"As I thought. You're truly qualified, huh."
Half-hidden in the shadows with his legs crossed and holding a cane in one hand, he wore a hat that shone like iron under the meagre light, a red coat, and a mask painted with white and black. The stranger watched him with an odd curl to his lips.
It wasn't a smile of joy.
Renato narrowed his eyes, appraising him.
Not human. Not mortal.
Not an angel though. Neither a demon.
...Ah, this was going to be troublesome then, no doubt.
"Who are you and on who's behalf are you here?"
He spread his arms, shrugging, "It's just me."
He slipped a gloved hand in his coat and Renato cocked his gun.
"Don't move."
Unimpeded, he pulled out his hand, retrieving something he palmed, "Don't be hasty."
He snapped his wrist and the thing flew up in a straight line. Keeping the man in his sights, Renato inspected the object.
It was round and relatively small, seemingly fashioned after a baby's pacifier. It looked like a useless trinket only good for showcasing on a shelf. The man caught it with ease, concealing it inside his fist.
Renato was left puzzled and just the tiniest bit unnerved.
That thing...
It was wrong. Twisted.
Something called and ached. For what, Renato wasn't certain. Only he knew that when the time came that it took a hold of whatever it was, it wouldn't let go.
Curious.
"I am here to gather the Seven Strongest. 'I Priscelti Sette'."
"...The selected seven."
"That's correct."
"You want to hire me?"
"Yes."
Renato grudgingly pocketed his gun back. A client is still a client.
No matter how odd or suspicious. Besides, in this kind of job, those types of people are what he'd most often have to deal with anyway.
He needed to get used to it.
His Soul Flames simmered just at the edge of his reach.
"This job request, is it a team one?"
"I guarantee the gain is a big one. But first I'd like you to get together."
He offered him a piece of folded paper, "Go here. And you'll be able to meet the others."
He disappeared in a wave of Mist Flames.
Renato waited for a whole minute and ascertained that he was finally alone. Well, except for Leon the Chameleon.
Unfolding the paper revealed a fairly detailed map. He glanced at the words written in the lower right corner.
EARTHBORN DOMAIN REALM, HUMAN WORLD
ITALY, ROME
Folding it back and tucking it in his suit, Renato idly wondered if he was an Earthborn.
The Dying Gods, people called them wasn't it?
Well, either way that wasn't Renato's business.
_
The entire neighbourhood was rundown. With rundown shops lining the alleyway and rotting wooden crates piled by the corners.
The tap, tap, tap of his shoes echoed.
Stopping in front of the building he was told to come to, he gave it a once over. It didn't differ or stand out from the surroundings. A simple two story, small enough that the best it housed couldn't have been more than just a fledgling business. Not even an eatery.
He twisted the door knob and pushed, senses sharp for any trace of hostility. There wasn't a creak or even a hitch to the hinges.
As he'd predicted, it was small. There was a round table in the center, surrounded by seven chairs, six of which were already occupied. It wasn't particularly large, but it already ate at the space. A stair tucked in a corner led to an open second floor.
He approached, eyes glancing over each of the individuals and comparing them to mental notes.
If he wasn't who he was, he might've at least raised an eyebrow. Certainly, any normal person (with his amount of information) who saw such a gathering would've openly gawked. Maybe even choked.
That guy wasn't just talking the talk when he had said 'gather the seven strongest'.
He bobbed his hat to them.
"Sorry I'm a bit late."