My first mission led to South America. The Mage's Association believed that a rogue mage was likely hiding there, conducting illegal experiments. They concluded that the culprit was a mage by the name of Erwin Linse and narrowed down the area for us. He was researching the field of Phantasmal Species, but left the Clock Tower a decade ago after an internal dispute. They had been looking for him ever since.

A lot of information on his research was on a need-to-know basis. And we didn't need to know about what he worked on specifically. "All to ourselves," as their saying goes.

We were on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro, overlooking one of the many slums from the top of a hill. The town looked like someone had mashed together buildings of various colors and sizes.

I looked westward. The sun had touched the horizon. It wouldn't be long now until dark.

"See anything yet?" I said.

Ryoken was standing beside me, scanning the district through a pair of binoculars.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Ryoken said.

"It could take days, maybe weeks to search that area, considering how densely populated it is," I said. "If he's even still there."

"Only one way to find out," he said.

I wasn't eager to explore that kind of place, if I was being honest. Places like these were notorious for having some of the worst living conditions. Bad infrastructure, terrible hygiene standards, and poverty. Once you landed there, it was nigh impossible to get out. It was a place filled to the brim with broken dreamers and crushed hopes. A place that was-

… abandoned?

There were some people near the boundary of the place, but once inside, it was completely deserted. It didn't matter what time of day it was, there should be always someone around. Where did everyone go, or rather, what happened to them?

The streets were dirty, trash was lying on the sidewalk, and makeshift shelters occupied every available space. Broken windows and cracked walls lined the buildings. This must have been years' worth of neglect piling up.

There was no destruction or any trails of blood that would have suggested that they were taken by force. Which meant they disappeared quietly and without a struggle. Magic was probably used to put them to sleep or something of a similar nature.

Pattering reached my ears. I spun, drawing my pistol-

Some rats scurrying around a pile of trash.

I sighed and turned back.

"No magic defenses in our vicinity," Ryoken said.

He held a mana-compass in his hand. The needle wasn't glowing or moving. At least, we weren't in enemy territory yet.

"So, we're going further in?" I said.

"Correct, but stay on guard regardless," he said. "Just because we're not at his workshop yet, doesn't mean we're safe."

"Of course," I said.

We ventured further, eyes and ears peeled for any sign of activity. The more time passed, the more it seemed like a ghost town with how quiet it was. The dry wind howled through the empty streets, moving a few loose doors here and there.

My gaze shifted. There were so many spots where an enemy could hide. The rooftops, the empty buildings, or the many shelters that could double as cover. But there was no other option. Searching the entire town would take ages.

"What do you think happened?" I whispered.

It's a rule to abstain from any chitchat in moments like these. But since it was somewhat relevant to the mission, it was alright.

"Probably ended up as guinea pigs or sacrifices," he said. "Wouldn't be the first mage to pull that shit."

What exactly were we going to find? A ritualistic altar with blood sacrifices? A mountain of corpses that had their life drained out of them?

I shook my head. Hopefully, we could at least save some people. But I couldn't get my hopes up. Expectations in our line of work would only lead to disappointment.

"I've got something," Ryoken said. "But it's weak."

The needle of the compass was barely glowing. It was swaying ever so slightly ahead of us. The source was either very weak or far away.

We followed that sole lead, but kept close to the buildings. Every time we crossed the street or rounded a corner, we double-checked our surroundings. Ryoken was taking point while I was covering our rear.

The needle on the compass was glowing brighter, but not by much.

"Contact," he said.

I took cover behind a garbage bin in front of a building. Ryoken ducked behind a car across me.

I could only make out a silhouette of a person down the street, about twenty-five meters away. If the street lights actually worked, maybe we would have seen more.

Ryoken looked at his compass again, then to whoever was just standing there. Then back to me and nodded.

That person was hunched over, walking with seemingly no particular destination in mind. All things considered, this was something far out of the ordinary. Chains were hanging from his neck and wrists, rattling with every step he took.

Then he turned his head. It snapped toward our position like a target lock. How was this possible?

It broke into a dead sprint. Toward us.

Ryoken's gun screamed. The thing collapsed on its back, blood bursting from its forehead.

We advanced. Whatever we killed, it wasn't human anymore. Tiny horns protruded from that man's forehead, peeking out of his hair. Traces of dried blood was around the corners of his half-open mouth. Fangs peeked out between his teeth. Razor-sharp claws adorned his hands. The clothes were torn at the ends, with a mix of dirt and blood splattered on them.

"What the hell is this?" I said.

"This looks reminiscent of an oni," Ryoken said. "Linse probably attempted to create some sort of superhuman."

The shackles looked like they weren't enough to hold this particular specimen in place, seeing as the end of the chain had parts of a concrete wall still attached to it.

"Let's follow the trail and see where it leads us," Ryoken said.

"Wait, what trail?" I said.

"Look at his wrists," he said.

Claw marks covered the skin at the cuffs. Considering that his hands were bloody as well, he probably tried to rid himself of them but without much success. The resulting blood loss formed a trail for us to follow.

This clue led us down a winding path of streets and alleys for a good twenty minutes. The compass reacted once again, pointing in the direction we were already on. This time, the needle glowed much brighter than before.

We ended up in front of a run-down apartment building. It didn't stand out in any way compared to the rest of the shabby structures. The walls had cracks and the paint outside was peeling off.

"Keep watch while I check for a bounded field," Ryoken said.

"Understood," I said.

He reached into his mantle and retrieved a small pouch. After untying the knot, he grabbed a handful of grey powder inside, held it out, then blew it away.

The powder wafted toward the building. It stopped halfway, as if blocked by a wall, hanging midair. The grey shimmered, fading into turquoise.

Next, he took out a needle about the size of a pen. He walked up to the invisible wall, now marked by the powder, and began drawing a rough circle into it. Then, he stabbed the needle into the center of the circle. Cracks appeared. The ring shattered like a window and Ryoken stepped through it. I jogged after him.

We opened the double doors and dashed into the lobby. No one in sight.

"Clear," he said.

"Clear," I said.

The trail of blood led us around a bend, towards a door. It probably led to the basement.

Ryoken took point as we climbed down the stairs. Soon, we found ourselves inside a corridor, lit only by a single, flickering bulb.

I looked at him. He gave a hand signal to advance. The hallway extended for about fifty meters with several doors on both sides and one at the end. The trail of blood originated out of the nearest room to the right.

I walked towards the door with cautious steps. My hand rested on the doorknob, the metal chilling my palm. I shivered. Whatever it was on the other side of the door, it must have been terrible. But I had to proceed.

Ryoken placed a hand on my shoulder. "You sure you want to look?"

Part of me wanted to leave it, but then what kind of freelancer would I be? If I shied away from whatever was on the other side, I would be denying the reality in front of me. I had to see what kind of evil other people were capable of to combat it. I couldn't turn a blind eye and pretend that everything was alright.

I nodded.

The door swung open, the stench of blood and rotten meat crashing into my nose. Red dripped from the ceiling, tapping the brown-stained tiles. Pitter patter. Pitter. My chest tightened, my arms stiffening, shrinking, flushed against my sides. A foul, burning liquid rose up my throat, and I gagged under my breath, almost spitting out half of the burger I had for lunch. Shafts of light flitted into the wide room - but they lit up everything. Everything.

Men, women, and children. Chained to the walls by their necks, wrists, and ankles like animals.

The new source of light made several of them turn their attention towards me, hissing or groaning in my direction. Some were lying motionless on the ground. Flies gathered over those bodies in droves.

The shock hit me. I swallowed, my taut muscles loosening. My hands clenched into a fist.

These people had horns of varying sizes coming out of their foreheads. Some attempted to run at me or reach me with their claws, only to be held back by their restraints, chaining them to the wall. None of these people were human anymore.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Do you think these people could still be saved?" I said. "Magecraft can manage that, right?"

Part of me knew I was grasping at straws there, but I wanted to believe. I had hope.

"I'm afraid not," he said. "This is similar to turning into a Dead Apostle. Once you've turned, there's no coming back."

We were too late, after all. The only thing we could do for these people was killing the bastard who did this.

"Let's end this," I said.

The remaining doors in the basement showed us more of the same. Nearly fifty of these hybrids were down there.

A huge portion of the town's population was missing though. Did they manage to flee?

That question was answered once we reached the second last room. The smell here was different than in the other rooms. It was the smell of burnt flesh.

A mountain of ash blanketed the ground. Bones were peeking out in a sea of black. This must have been where the failed experiments ended up. They were discarded like tools that outlived their use.

That mage had to be put down for good.

We proceeded toward the final door. Light was peeking out from underneath. It was locked, so we placed a breach charge. With one of us on each side of the door, Ryoken raised his left hand, holding up three fingers.

Three.

We sneaked past the bounded field and had the element of surprise on our side.

Two.

That mage spilled innocent blood. Now it was our turn to spill his.

One.

Breach. He kicked the door open. I threw a flashbang in. Weapons drawn, we charged into the room.

The room was reasonably big. Lots of desks to use as cover. I spotted seven figures all around the room. Only one of them was human. Our target. The rest was a bunch of automated dolls, aptly named automata.

I shot Linse on sight. An automata dove in front of him to take the hit. The bullet ricocheted off its torso.

Another bullet the size of a tank shell flew toward the defender. It penetrated the automata. Its master behind it now had a gaping hole in his torso.

I glanced sideways to confirm that the shot came from Ryoken's revolver.

Two more charged toward me. That meant they had no ranged attacks. Two, three shots to the neck of the first one made it stumble and fall.

The second arrived. It swiped with its razor hands. I tumbled past it and rammed a knife into the back of its knee. The automata collapsed as I got up and spun around to deliver the finishing shots.

Reload. I checked on Ryoken, only that he already dispatched the remaining three automata. Their once pristine, white frames were scattered and riddled with holes around him.

Silence flooded the room. We surveyed our surroundings for any more surprises.

A bunch of loose papers was strewn on the desks along with books and files. Several shelves displayed containers with liquids of varying colors. In some of those swam fossilized remains of snakes or scorpions. Others had only part of an appendage, so I couldn't tell what it might have belonged to.

In the back was an operating table with a person strapped to it. They were completely still and didn't even react to the fight that just happened here, which means that person was already dead.

Lastly, a lot of items were gathered in boxes and containers around the room as if he was preparing to relocate.

"All clear," Ryoken said. "Good work."

"Thanks," I said. "I thought no one builds automata anymore because they're too costly."

"They look like older models," he said. "He probably purchased them somewhere instead."

I walked up to one of the desks to look at some of the files. "By the way, do you think I can have a revolver like that too?"

"That thing is one of a kind, I'm afraid," he said, rummaging through another desk. "But I'll see what I can do."

I focused my attention back on what was in front of me. Notes with complicated formulas that I couldn't hope to understand, sketches of phantasmal species, and something that looked like a logbook.

I skimmed through the contents.

My trip to Mt. Ooe in Japan has borne fruit. After tireless excavations, I found a fragment of an oni's horns. This will be the foundation upon which I will base my coming research.

Subject 76, like all the others before it, has died after the initial amalgamation process. I assumed that I simply had to find suitable material, but perhaps I need to rethink my theory and start over again.

Despite countless modifications in the formula, Subject 149 has ceased vital activities. Regardless, I am learning more and more with each failed attempt. I am certain that I can create a superior human as long as I continue my research.

After countless failures, I am finally seeing some progress. Subject 352 is the first to survive the first phase of the transformation. Though it did perish shortly afterward, the oni horns started developing on its forehead. This is a small breakthrough, but a breakthrough nonetheless.

Subject 989 is the first to survive the full transformation. It truly was a sight to behold. Unfortunately, its mental state degraded so drastically within the next six hours that I had to declare it clinically braindead. On a side note, I will have to procure more material and expand my area of search if I am to keep going.

The oni influence is stronger than I realized. Subject 1537 has developed horns, fangs, and claws. However, it is acting like a wild, rabid animal that seems to have lost all forms of higher intelligence. I need to iron out this defect.

Subject 2120 is the most promising attempt yet. However, I have yet to find a way to contain its bloodlust. Onis were known to act on their whims, which made them unpredictable. However, if I can seal or erase that trait altogether, I will have a human that is physically superior in every way, including a longer lifespan. With those added years, I can finally set my sights on the Root. A mage needs many lifespans to even hope to reach it, that is why extending one's life is crucial. I am so close, I can feel it.

I flipped over to the final page of the document.

With great regret have I discovered today that a couple of my other subjects have escaped to the surface. The probability that the Association has encountered one of them and sent their lapdogs here to silence me is very likely. I will have to relocate my workshop yet again. Vexing though it may be at a time like this, I have no choice.

I frowned as I dropped the paper and looked over to his corpse. He was responsible for the deaths of thousands of people, innocent people. The world was well rid of him.

"Why would anyone go this far?" I said.

These people were nothing more than a resource to him. Guinea pigs for his experiments. He chose this location because no one would bat an eye if these people went missing. That was the sad reality we lived in. How many more like him were out there, or worse?

"Some mages are just willing to do anything to achieve their goal. Believe me, I've seen it all," Ryoken said. "If you're asking on a more fundamental level... Well, I've already told you this world isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes it's hell. For all the honest people who do good, there is an equal amount of bad people who commit atrocities."

"That's messed up," I said.

"That's humanity for you," he said. "Anyway, we-

Scratching and low groaning came from the back of the room. We drew our weapons and I held my breath.

I exhaled. It was the person strapped on the operating table shifting a little.

"I thought that one was dead?" I said.

"Let's check it out, but be on guard," he said.

We approached him slowly. I frowned. Horns peeked out of his dark hair and his claws kept scraping against the table.

The tray next to the table had various tools like syringes, scalpels, and sedatives. He was put to sleep and had just woken up.

"P-Please..." he said, fidgeting in his bindings. "Save... me..."

His voice was strained, as if it pained him to even utter those few words. Part of me wanted to tell him that everything will be alright, that the worst was over.

But that would be a lie. He had irreversibly turned into something that wasn't human anymore. The least I could do now was put him out of his misery. That was the reality I had to face.

Ryoken had gone behind him and aimed his gun at the hybrid's head.

This was my first mission and I had only destroyed automatas. Beings that were not alive to begin with. I had to step up and do what was needed.

I delivered the last shot to the hybrid, beating Ryoken to the squeeze. I stood far enough that only a little bit of blood splattered my clothes.

"You know, I wouldn't have asked you to do that," Ryoken said. "Pulling the trigger on someone that has to die is one thing. Pulling it on a defenseless target whose only crime was to be at the wrong place at the wrong time is another."

I lowered my gun. "But it had to be done, right?"

"No doubt about it," he said. "But the last thing I want you to be is a killing machine. Getting used to taking a life is a skill that you really shouldn't possess."

Why should a freelancer not get used to killing others? Wasn't that in their job description?

Killing that hybrid was the right thing to do from an objective standpoint. But why was I so keen on doing it myself? Ryoken was going to do it anyway. Did that make me a psychopath who enjoys killing? I would have to face a situation like this eventually. Minimizing my inhibitions to avoid further suffering was the logical choice. Still, the act itself left a bad taste in my mouth. That counted for something, right?

"Anyway, mission accomplished," he said. "Once we're outside, I'll call the Association to handle the cleanup. We'll camp out here until they arrive. Shouldn't take longer than a few hours."

There was no doubt that we did something good here. If that mage had escaped, he would have continued his experiments and many more would have died.

From a young age, everyone learned that killing is bad. That was just common sense. However, in cases with entities beyond the capability of governments or law enforcement, people like us were the only ones who could put down threats like this.

But what if there comes a time when things aren't just black and white?


Author's Note:

Sorry for not updating the last couple of months, but I should be able now to get chapters out at around the same pace as before. Also, I would like to announce that eretein has joined me as a new beta reader! If you are interested and have the time, do check out his story "Artificer" (RWBY).