WHISPERING HUNTERS - Ch.5 - Search (2)

Gregor frowned, just faintly for a moment.

But the Boss Man caught it instantly.

"You know something?” he said, his voice dropping an octave, playful curiosity giving way to interest.

He leaned forward, a grape hanging forgotten between his fingers.

"Don't tell me you recognize one of these two men."

Gregor didn't answer right away. He kept his eyes on the photo of the one in the glasses.

"Tall b*stard," he muttered.

"Saw him yesterday. Real flashy, with long hair, red specs, like he's about to put on a stage show. Though he was trying to flaunt his money half the pub with that smirk."

He crossed his arms.

"Didn't think he was anything more than a clown trying too hard to look rich."

The Boss Man chuckled, rubbing his thumb over the grape before popping it into his mouth.

"What about the other one?"

Gregor's eyes slid to the gray haired man again. His brow furrowed.

"No," he said. 

"Don't know him."

The Boss watched him for a moment, chewing slowly, eyes narrowed.

Gregor didn't blink for a second.

Then the Boss Man shrugged, reached for another grape, and leaned back with a wide grin.

"Well, if you remember something, do share. It'd be a shame to find out later you were holding me out for something."

Gregor leaned back in his chair, hands resting on his lap. 

"Anyway... why are you even sniffing around into them? What's got you twitching?"

The Boss Man sucked the juice from another grape, then gave a lazy smile.

"Heh. Next thing anyone knows, they'd taken over a small time crew down in the southern blocks. Didn't buy it out, just buried the old boss and kept the bones."

Gregor frowned. "Bold."

"Bold and efficient," the Boss said, wagging a finger.

"In less than a year, they built something solid. Gambling, flesh trade, powders a proper network, no sloppiness, and they keep it locked down, not even leaks."

He leaned in a little, voice low now.

"That's what makes me nervous. People who move clean in this city? Either they've got help behind the curtain, or they know something the rest of us don't."

The Boss Man leaned back, eyes drifting to the stained ceiling overhead. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Information is like fire, Gregor. You don't light it the moment, you find it, you stack it, blow on it, wait for the wind to change. Then, when it's just right, one spark, and the whole damn house goes up."

He brought his gaze back down, and the grin was gone, replaced with something colder, more patient.

"I'm just waiting for the right spark."

Gregor didn't respond. He looked down at the photos again. One face he recognized. The other wouldn't leave him alone.

Gregor leaned back of his chair, eyes on the papers especially on the photos.

A year in this city and they've already taken over a gang? Without a loud mess? Even I didn't even hear about this. That's something. Either they know exactly what they're doing, or someone big is holding their leash.

Police?

Local Government?

Organization?

His jaw tightened slightly. 

And Amelia just had to get mixed up with them. I swear to the goddess I will beat the living the sh*t out of them if they hurt her!

He let out a quiet breath, glancing again at the photo of the man with the glasses. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. 

Still, if I ever get close, maybe I'll punch that smug grin off his face. Might not change a damn thing, but it'd make me feel better.

He set the papers down and looked at the Boss Man.

"What's the price? I hope it's worth it, considering how dangerous this is. And I expect you'll be lenient on the due date."

The Boss Man only smirked.

"Well, if the goddess of light grants us fortune, I do hope you finish it early. But take as long as you want, no one outside this room even knows about your mission. You're at your best when you work alone. Of course, I'll give you 30 pounds to start it off, and when you're done... 100 pounds as the final payment. So, how about it?"

One hundred pounds, huh? 

Bait.

Plain and simple. He's dangling it so I rush and do something stupid.

At that moment, an intense realization hit him. Amelia wasn't just an afterthought. She was the bait from the very start.

Gregor's gaze locked on the Boss Man. The older man smirked wider, as if he could taste the anger boiling behind Gregor's eyes.

Gregor inwardly clenched his teeth. 

Tch! Using my sister as bait... I bet others already took this job.

I'm not the only one!

He looked around the room briefly, the gamblers too focused on their games to notice him, then back at the Boss Man. Closing his eyes, he drew a small, steady breath.

"Sure. Why not," Gregor said, voice flat. 

"I accept."

But under that calm, anger churned hot, threatening to burst like a volcano.

The Boss Man's smirk widened, his tone turning almost theatrical, as if he were congratulating a dear friend.

"Bravo, Gregor! I knew you would accept it. A man of such sense wouldn't dream of disappointing the people who put so much trust in him."

The words dripped like honey, but the weight behind them was iron. The meaning was clear enough, Good thing you accepted or I'd have put you in the ground right here.

The Boss Man gave a sheepish grin, tilting his head slightly as if he'd just paid a harmless compliment.

Gregor smiled back, thin and sharp, his teeth pressed tight beneath his lips. Without another word, he rose from his seat, folding the papers neatly under his arm, and made for the exit.

He was sweating bullets, the atmosphere inside the room thick enough to choke on as every gaze pinned him in place. 

Stepping out into the afternoon chill, the air outside felt cleaner, cooler, as he stepped out of the Treasure Island pub. His anger still simmered under the surface, but he pushed it aside for now. He had somewhere else to be his sister, Amelia who might be in great danger!

In this world, we're no different from animals waiting to be slaughtered. We like to believe we've left the wild behind by our ancestors but the built walls, paved roads, dressed ourselves in fine clothes and polite words. Nothing's changed. We still hunt, still devour each other. The only difference is the tools and methods we use.

A blade, a gun, society is not much different from the wild jungle. The strongest still feed on the weak, the cunning still stalk the blind. We've just traded trees for brick and dirt for cobblestone, but it's the same wild. We just call it a city now.

He walked down the narrow street, boots crunching on loose gravel, eyes lowered. A thin gust of wind cut through the street, carrying the smell of smoke and wet stone. Gregor pulled his hat tighter, his steps steady despite the weight of his thoughts.