Chapter 29: Reaper

Dragonflies darted above the waterline, searching for areas to lay eggs, and butterflies shimmied between flowers, feeding on their sweet nectar. The 'midday' crystalline sun shone onto the aquamarine blue lakes and rivers below, which trickled throughout the dungeon floor, like a great vascular network. It was a dazzling scene for any passers-by. However, the tranquil atmosphere was intermittently disturbed by a repetitive splashing sound.

Hit kneeled by the shore, arms stuck under the water; bubbles erupted upwards, directly from their central points. After a minute, he raised his arms upwards, and two mouths gulped in fresh air.

"Gaaah!"

"HUghh!"

They belonged to the two shady individuals, who were currently paralysed from the neck down.

Hit's stony eyes met those of the two previously cloaked individuals, and they glared right back at him with hatred. Hit had relieved them of their robes, to reveal a plain, brown-haired man, and a tattooed, green haired woman. They breathed heavily, attempting to recuperate. The two wore simple clothing, stripped of anything else, and would have shivered, if they could. Hit had laid out their belongings in a line and had already pelted them with an array of questions, to no avail. He grasped at their hair, tightly, and spoke in a grim voice. "Talk."

His captives stared upwards, utterly terrified. Their bodies twisted and ached from the torment, not even able to resist. The only response that Hit received was a chattering of teeth from the man, and a bloodied glare from the woman. Hit huffed and stood up, before walking towards a nearby tree trunk. He dumped the two malcontents down, forcefully, and turned their heads towards the packages he had relieved them of.

Hit had peeked inside; however, was forced to push down revulsion at their contents. Most possessed vials of reddish-brown liquid and needles; whereas, two larger ones were starkly distinct. Glistening, human organs met his curious gaze, some too small to be an adult's. Maggots had already begun to writhe in one packet, crawling out of a small, fractured skull. Hit pointed at the brown bags, which were covered in intricate symbols and manic scribbles.

ゴゴゴゴ "Who. Are. You? What location were you skulking to? Who were you meeting? What are you trafficking?" ゴゴゴゴ

The organ harvesters closed their eyes and wished to be anywhere else. Hit frowned and stood back up. 'Perhaps I should inject those drugs into them and see what happens. No... I need them lucid.'

Hit glanced at the long line of bags, which were neatly placed over a clean sheet. It gave the 'meeting' a rather strange appearance, as if the three were engaging in a macabre picnic. He reached down, picked up a few small packets, and walked to the shoreline. Hit made sure he was directly in his prisoners' sights. He took out a few vials and began pouring the rusty coloured liquid into the lake. "Since neither of you will talk, I suppose I shall dispose of this. May as well use it as fish food..."

The brown-haired man whimpered pitifully, terrified of losing such a valuable commodity. His desperation went beyond what could be considered normal, suggesting it held a more personal importance. "N-No! Anything, but that! I-I need it or else they'll…"

His green haired companion shouted over him, petrified. She was hyperventilating at this point, tattoos rhythmically rising and falling. "Ssshut the fuck up, you dirty rat!"

Hit ran over and kicked at her, sending the limp body sprawling away; grassy hair became a mess as the woman stared upwards, completely spent. Hit bent down and stared at the feeble man, unblinking. His domineering visage filled the man's vision, offering him no chance of escape, physically or mentally.

"Your bodies do not require both kidneys, either eyes, or any reproductive organs to function. I will ask you only once more..."

Hit raised the man's black knife, which glinted in the artificial sun. A poison sample had been taken and allowed the steel to glisten perfectly. In his other hand was a healing potion, which would have been comforting in any other scenario. Here, it served as a warning that death was no escape.

ゴゴゴゴ "Talk." ゴゴゴゴ

This final display seemed to push the detainee over the edge. His eyes glossed over, as if the man was reliving every mistake that led up to this point. "O-okay. I'll t-talk...We were..."

A blood curdling scream rang out, as the woman gained energy from seemingly nowhere. "You filthy sssubhuman ssscum! Are you ssseriously about to expose us!? Be ussseful for once in your insignificant life! Use... IT!"

Hit got up to silence the banshee, but heard a crunching sound under him. Looking down, Hit saw foamy white bubbles flooding out of the man's mouth, his paralysed body somehow convulsing. 'Crap!'

Hit seized the man and raced to the nearby lake, battling against time for a change. He violently shoved the cultist's head in and flung it around to dislodge as much poison as possible. To finish the impromptu treatment, he reached into a pocket, and dumped several antidotes into the lunatic's mouth. The man seemed to possess some mental clarity, as he attempted to spit it out. Hit covered the madman's mouth and held his nose shut. Then, he waited.

All attendees to the 'picnic' stood still, awaiting their fate.

.

..

...

*Gulp*

Inevitably, the man swallowed his medicine; the woman was most displeased.

"NOOOOOOOOO! God fucking dammit!"

Hit quickly knocked the man unconscious, and raced back to his other prisoner, using time skip-infused running to hasten his journey. The woman's emerald eyes shot open as Hit blurred in front of her, and widened even further as Hit's hand, now ungloved, reached into her mouth. Blood spurted as Hit hauled the poison-implanted tooth out, nerves and all.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" The wench screeched out and fell into pain-induced sleep. Gemstone-like eyes hid themselves away as they rolled back into hiding.

Hit huffed and took a moment to gather himself, clutching at his face. "Well... That went swimmingly..."

Hit chided himself for not checking them more thoroughly for any suicide devices. Cyanide-filled fake teeth? Such an archaic, and painful, escape method. He dusted himself down and walked back to the 'picnic' space, looking for something to restrain the two maladjusted individuals with. Hit glanced at their dark robes, folded neatly to preserve their quality. 'No. Those are pieces of evidence and are far too weak to hold someone with their strength.'

Unfortunately, Hit would have to dig into his own supplies, and use some high-quality rope. He clicked his tongue, and pulled the material from his pack, before getting to work.

...

A few minutes later, and the two sprawled bodies were tied into neat parcels. Hit had made sure to tie them extremely tightly, just enough to allow circulation, and restricted any movements that could facilitate their escape. Their mouths were checked for any more false teeth, and tied with rope, to prevent the suicide squad from biting their own tongues. Once the evidence, organs, and drugs were packed, Hit hauled the two unconscious bodies onto his shoulders, and began walking towards where the Loki familia members had camped.

Hit grumbled as he carried his newest 'acquaintances' down the beaten path. He had already passed a few adventurers, who stopped to gawk at the strange sight; although a stern glare soon shooed them off. The sun portion of the crystalline ceiling had contracted to a dim glow, suggesting that it was now late afternoon, or early evening.

'I need a drink...' Hit licked his lips as torchlights began to fill his vision. This was a region of the floor, proximal to the Loki familia's meeting site, that could be prebooked for use as an encampment site. Ivory coloured huts glowed in the darkness, crisscrossed by dark coloured rope, which held down the white fabric that enshrouded them. Hit glanced around and walked towards the first person he saw: a human relaxing by an open fire pit; Hit's footsteps made no sound as he sneaked behind the flames. The conflagration gave the boy a demonic appearance, as if he had risen from hell to steal someone's soul. "I have a delivery".

"Gaaah!? D-don't scare me like that! Who the hell are you!?" The person, evidently a man based on the scream, fell over and quickly reached for a nearby spear.

Hit dumped his cargo down and rolled his shoulders. "Hit."

Recognition kindled in the man's eyes, as well as a little respect. "Oh... You're... *cough* …Him. I'm Morel... level 2."

Hit did not pay any attention to the man's mannerisms and pointed down. Two time skips later, and he applied a few extra pressure point attacks, to ensure his 'parcels' were truly unconscious. "I apprehended these two trafficking narcotics and human organs. Call a group of level threes and restrain them. Do not set them free, and do not bother talking to them."

Hit thought back to the strange symbols the two carried, and group referred to as "they". These simple traffickers were obviously members of a larger organisation, that needed to be investigated. Their utter terror at the idea of their collective being outed, suggested it was no normal band of criminals. However, how could they possibly draw out the necessary intel? These two needed to be ... 'interrogated' ... by a very persuasive professional. The pair would have to remain restrained here, until the familia reached the surface. 'Maybe a few weeks of waterboarding will loosen their tongues.'

The black-haired human stammered and looked at the unconscious criminals, agape. He grasped at his hair and shook his head. "What!? Are you serious!? ...Right under our noses..."

Hit turned around and walked off into the dying light. However, Morel called out, forcing Hit to stop.

"W-wait! I wanted to thank you... for saving Elfy. Our party got separated and she was attacked by a crystal mantis, of all things. I mean, come on, who could have expected that!?" Morel's eyes betrayed his pitiful excuse, shining with a guilt that ate him from within.

Hit turned around and fixed him with a stern glare. "You should have considered the obvious danger, when working with a mage. She should have also developed countermeasures to her greatest weakness on these floors. Do not get sloppy with your work; and counter each other's faults."

Morel's eyes lit up with deep respect, although he felt an undercurrent of shame. "R-right! Oh! Um... Also, before you go, Gareth looked super pissed when he met us. Do you know anything about that? He's usually never stressed out..."

Hit finally made his way off, adamant on getting his drink. "Hmph. I can't imagine why."

Morel watched the mysterious boy leave, before realising he was not alone. He swore it was a trick of the light, but one of the bodies seemed to twitch a little. He rushed off, calling out for reinforcements.

"G-guys! Can I get some help over here!?"

…

Hit stretched in his bedroll, this time at the top of the floor's immense tree; thankfully, he did not have a history of sleepwalking. A family of birds cooed from a nearby nest, and a pair of squirrel-like creatures curled together on a branch. It was a peaceful scene, which, sadly, did not put Hit at ease.

Expectedly, the tavern had been stupidly expensive; however, Hit thought that it was completely worth frequenting the establishment. The familia supplies were a free option, yet the drinks were non-chilled and unsatisfactory compared to a proper inn's; the preservatives also had a horrible aftertaste. Tonight, Hit had savoured a number of ice-cold beers, and pushed their price to the back of his mind. Anyway, it was a well-earned reward for dropping off those thugs and drugs.

Hit settled in for a restless sleep; his alcohol-addled mind simply could not stave off thoughts of the viscera within those demonic containers... Nor of the child's eye that stared up at him.

Author's notes

Love the idea of Hit being an expert detective. Nowadays, he can just use time skip to bypass everything; however, I like to think that he had to earn his way there.

Hit certainly likes his drinks here. I think Hit is someone who would frequent bars, useful for intel, and as a temporary place of rest.

As for me, I hate beer and wine; tastes awful, smells awful. Just water, thank you. It's boring, but I'm boring.