Under the pitch-black night canopy, Charles sneaked into Ritou. The air on this border island felt so heavy and suffocating, filled with tension that was almost physically palpable.
Paper lanterns hanging along the streets emitted a dim and sickly purple light, creating long shadows that danced like ghosts.
At every corner, Doushin samurai patrolled with stiff and fierce steps, their black armor creaking softly, their sharp eyes scrutinizing every passerby with unmasked suspicion.
Charles moved like a shadow, his dark cloak—looted from one of the ronin—making him nearly blend into the darkness of the narrow alleys reeking of seawater and garbage.
He observed the foreign merchants trapped on the island, their faces filled with despair and exhaustion. They sat in front of their closed shops, staring blankly at the streets, trapped in a golden cage created by the Sakoku Decree.
He hid in the shadow of a teahouse, his sharp ears catching whispers from the patrons inside.
They weren't talking about trade or the weather. They were talking about the Vision Hunt. About their friends who had lost their ambitions, about their families who had fled, about the Tenryou Commission samurai who could appear anytime like ghosts to seize someone's most precious possession.
Vision Hunt… so the story is exactly as I knew in the game… Charles thought, a thin smile etching onto his lips. Ei… why are you so obsessed with eternity, stripping away the dreams and ambitions of your own people. Why not just be obsessed with me?
At that moment, across the street, an old craftsman was arguing with two Doushin samurai.
The old man clutched his chest tightly, where a Geo Vision shone with a warm golden light. His face was filled with desperate pleas, his voice trembling as he tried to explain that the Vision was his only source of inspiration and life.
However, the samurai didn't care. One of them, with a cold and emotionless face, stepped forward and with one quick and rough motion, snatched the Vision from the craftsman's hand.
Charles watched everything from the darkness.
He saw the golden light in the Vision dim and finally extinguish. And at the same time, he saw something far more horrifying.
The fire in the craftsman's eyes, the spirit and passion for life that had been blazing there, also extinguished instantly. His face, once filled with emotion, now became blank, his muscles slackening, and his body, once upright in resistance, now slumped as if all his bones had softened.
He just stood there, staring blankly ahead, an empty human shell.
The scene didn't affect him at all.
No anger, no pity, nothing. He just stared at the tragic scene for a moment with the same cold gaze, before finally nodding slowly to himself.
…
His steps led him to the most rundown part of Ritou.
There, hidden behind an ordinary-looking noodle shop, was a house.
Charles pushed the rickety sliding door, and was immediately greeted by a wave of hot, suffocating air.
The room inside was dim, illuminated only by a few low-hanging paper lanterns, their reddish-yellow light barely piercing the thick plume of tobacco smoke.
The smell of spilled sake, the sweat of dozens of crammed bodies, and the faint aroma of opium mixed into one, creating the distinctive scent of a den of thieves.
The sounds inside were a symphony of chaos: the clinking of wagered Mora coins, the rattle of dice thrown on wooden tables, the rough shouts of gamblers winning or losing, and the dissonant melody from an old shamisen player in the corner.
The place was filled with ronin bearing scars on their faces, sailors with strange tattoos creeping up their necks, and a few sly informants sitting alone in dark corners, their weasel-like eyes observing every transaction.
Charles stepped in, his pale white fox mask immediately drawing attention from a few people.
He ignored those suspicious stares.
His tall but relaxed body moved with clear purpose, slipping through the crammed crowd. His eyes hidden behind the mask scanned every corner of the room, noting every exit, every face that looked dangerous.
They must sell information…. He walked toward the bar made of dark, weathered wood, where a large-bodied bartender with arms full of scars was serving drinks.
He ordered a glass of water, an odd request that made the bartender raise his eyebrow. While waiting, he leaned on the bar, observing his surroundings.
At that moment, he saw three people. Those three were drunken ronin thugs, sitting at a table not far from him. They laughed uproariously with voices so loud they disturbed the entire room, one of them even putting his dirty foot on the table.
Charles smiled.
With deliberate movement, Charles took his glass of water and walked past their table. Just as he was beside them, he pretended to trip, spilling the entire contents of his glass onto the lap of the largest and most drunken thug.
The sudden silence enveloping the room felt so heavy. The shamisen music stopped. Everyone turned toward them.
The drenched thug stared at his now wet pants with a disbelieving gaze, before slowly raising his head, his eyes red from drunkenness staring sharply at Charles. "You…," he growled, his voice deep and full of threat. "You looking for death, huh?"
Charles only tilted his head slightly, his expressionless fox mask making his reaction unreadable. "Sorry," he said in a flat tone. "The floor is slippery."
At that moment, the thug roared and stood up, his hand grabbing an empty sake bottle on the table and smashing it, leaving jagged glass shards.
His two other friends also stood, one, thin and agile, drawing a knife from under his shirt, while the third, their loud-mouthed leader, just grinned, folding his arms across his chest.
Soon after, the large thug charged forward with a wild shout, the bottle shards in his hand aimed straight at Charles's face.
At the same time, the thin thug moved from the other side, his knife targeting Charles's ribs.
This is a good target to try my Sinner. Charles thought in a flash.
Charles didn't retreat. He advanced instead, his body lowering. He dodged the bottle swing from the large thug, then used the nearby table as a foothold to jump, letting the thin thug's knife only embed in the wooden table.
While in the air, he snapped his fingers.
BOOM!
A small but powerful explosion occurred right between the two thugs, throwing them back in surprise.
Charles landed lightly on the table, then before they could recover, he jumped down. He moved so fast, as if becoming a shadow. He kicked the thin thug's wrist, dislodging his knife.
Then, he turned and slammed his elbow into the large thug's jaw, knocking him out instantly.
Their leader, who had been watching smugly, now had a face pale as a sheet. He tried to flee, but Charles was already in front of him.
He didn't use his explosion this time.
Instead, he drew his revolver, which was now always fully loaded, from inventory!
The click as he cocked the hammer sounded so loud amid the gripping silence.
The thug froze, his hands raised in surrender. The entire room now stared at Charles with a mix of fear and respect.
He had defeated three thugs in less than ten seconds!
How could they not be impressed seeing such prowess?
At that moment, from the darkest corner of the room, the sound of slow and rhythmic handclaps was heard.
Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.
A thin man in better clothes than the others stepped out from the shadows. His narrowed eyes stared at Charles with an amused and calculating gaze. He was an informant.
"Quite an impressive performance," the informant said, his voice smooth as silk. "People with talent like yours usually don't come to a place like this just to cause trouble. So, what are you looking for, Mr. Kitsune?"
Charles holstered his revolver back. He walked toward the informant's table, his movements now calm and full of confidence. He took a Mora coin from his pocket, then with a flick of his thumb, tossed the coin onto the table.
The coin spun beautifully before finally stopping with the head of Rex Lapis facing up.
He leaned forward, his voice now only a cold and sharp whisper that could only be heard by the informant.
"I'm looking for a way to Inazuma City. Give me a map."
The informant stared at the Mora coin on the table, then back at Charles's fox mask. A sly smile slowly etched onto his face. "Of course," he said. "But information like that… costs far more than just one Mora coin."
…
Keqing didn't fall; she descended like a judge's verdict.
From high in the air, her body was a perfect perpendicular line, a purple needle dropped by a god's hand onto the earth's surface.
The slender sword in her hand had become a conduit for the sky's wrath, coated in wildly hissing Electro, screeching a high-pitched note that pained the ears amid the cave's silence.
She slashed.
ZZZRAAAKK!
The sword blade struck the giant Ice Golem's shoulder with deadly precision.
Purple light exploded, illuminating the entire cave with blinding stroboscopic flashes, creating long shadows that danced madly on the ice walls.
The clash sound was like thunder breaking in an enclosed space.
However, no ice shattered.
The attack, which should have been enough to split granite in two, only left a shallow scorched scratch on the giant's surface.
Keqing's lightning spread across its body surface, seeking gaps, but only hissed helplessly before extinguishing, swallowed by the absolute cold temperature.
The Golem slowly turned its head. Its movement slow, heavy, and inevitable, accompanied by a grinding sound like the earth's bones breaking.
Its soulless glowing blue eyes showed no pain, no anger. Only emptiness.
Its gaze locked onto Keqing who had just landed lightly on a broken ice pillar.
In the corner of Keqing's eye, she could see the Anemo warrior—the man who had nearly been crushed—gaping. His face pale as a sheet, his eyes wide staring at Keqing's figure as if he had just seen a ghost descending from the sky.
He couldn't comprehend how someone so small dared challenge a mountain so large. His breath held, his lungs forgetting how to work in the face of that near-suicidal bravery.
However, the Golem gave no time for admiration.
Its massive arm raised. Like an avalanche released from a mountain peak, the ice arm swept down the area where Keqing stood. The air in front of the arm compressed, creating a shockwave wind capable of crushing ribs.
At the same time, Louis and Isabelle moved. Louis shot from the left side, drawing a dagger that appeared from nowhere. His dagger gleamed seeking gaps in the Golem's legs, while Isabelle released fire arrows hissing in the cold air. However, their attacks were like mosquitoes biting rhino skin; annoying, but not lethal.
Keqing didn't need their help.
Not now.
As the massive arm smashed the ice pillar where she stood, shattering it into crystal dust, Keqing was no longer there.
She jumped.
In the air, she was as light as a feather released by the wind. Gravity seemed to lose its grip on the girl's body. She danced on the air currents created by her enemy's attack itself. Her body spun, a perfect pirouette amid the storm of destruction.
Her heel tip swept the wind, only millimeters from the jagged sharp ice surface. She could feel the deadly cold aura radiating from the monster, an aura trying to freeze the blood in her veins.
The Golem, realizing its attack missed, didn't stop. It twisted its massive upper body, its other arm slashing horizontally, trying to swat the annoying purple fly in the air.
This attack was faster!
Keqing's body arched backward in the air, her spine forming an impossible curve, flexible like a silk ribbon blown by a storm.
Time seemed to slow for the Yuheng.
She could see every detail of the ice surface approaching her face—the rough texture, micro cracks, and ancient dust trapped within.
SREEEK.
The scraping sound was soft but horrifying.
The attack passed. So close. The tip of a sharp ice shard on the Golem's knuckle managed to touch her skin. A thin scratch appeared on Keqing's white cheek.
Fresh red blood seeped out, one drop.
However, Keqing didn't blink.
She completed her spin in the air with one graceful somersault. Her feet hadn't touched the ground when she was already preparing a counter.
One elegant spin, one smooth back arch—and the giant's missed attack smashed the ground below.
BOOM!
The ice floor shattered, creating a deep crater, sending vibrations shaking the entire cave. Ice dust billowed high, obscuring vision.
And from behind that dust curtain, purple light glowed again.
Keqing didn't land to rest.
Her foot touched a floating ice chunk, and she used it as a foothold to launch back toward the Golem.
The graceful spin hadn't ended when purple lightning crept along her arm, spreading from shoulder to sword tip like hungry light snakes. Her eyes narrowed, her stiletto pupils sharpening.
"Too slow," she whispered.
In an instant, she vanished.
She turned into a line of light. Her physical body seemed to dissolve into photons and electricity, shooting forward at a speed making the world around her seem stopped.
BLAM!
She had slammed into the Golem's chest!
The sound of explosion rang out, an explosion of Electro energy released at one focused point.
Keqing reappeared behind the Golem, kneeling on one knee, her sword sheathed to the side.
For a moment, the world silent.
The Golem stood still.
Then, lines of purple light appeared all over its massive body. Fine cracks emitting Electro light from within.
KRAK... BOOM!
The giant Golem exploded into millions of dust-sized ice shards, completely destroyed.
Keqing stood slowly, sheathing her sword with a sharp click. She didn't look back. Her breath slightly gasping, and the blood on her cheek beginning to dry, but her eyes remained sharp, staring into the darkness of the next corridor.
…
Charles stood calmly. His pale white fox mask hid his expression, but his tall and relaxed body radiated an aura of danger that made people around him instinctively give him space.
Before him, the informant still sat with his smile, his narrowed eyes glinting under the dim lantern light.
At that moment, with a motion so fast it was almost invisible, Charles's hand shot behind his cloak and returned in a flash.
Instantly, the air around them vibrated.
The cold and pitch-black muzzle of his revolver was now pressed hard against the informant's forehead, between his brows.
Total silence instantly enveloped the room.
The only remaining sound was the soft hiss from the lantern wicks and Charles's own heartbeat pounding with a calm and deadly rhythm.
The air that had smelled of sake and tobacco smoke now felt tense and filled with the faint scent of gunpowder and cold steel.
The informant didn't budge. His smile didn't waver at all, even though a small black hole was now staring straight into his soul.
He only raised his eyebrow slightly. "May I consider this a threat, Mr. Kitsune?" he asked, his voice still smooth and full of amusement, as if the gun to his head was nothing more than a minor annoyance.
At that moment, the entire room moved. The simultaneous SHING sound of dozens of swords drawn from sheaths was heard.
The ronin and smugglers who had been watching now stood, their gleaming katanas and daggers aimed at Charles.
The circle that had been loose around him now closed in.
Charles didn't move. His eyes hidden behind the mask calmly observed every face, every weapon aimed at him.
He could feel the pressure from dozens of bloodthirsty eyes, but his breath remained steady, his hand holding the revolver not trembling at all.
One finger snap, he thought, and at least half of them will vanish along with this rotten place. Heh, but that would be too noisy. Too troublesome.
The informant laughed softly, breaking the tense silence.
"See? You may be fast, Mr. Kitsune, but you can't fight us all." He gestured with his hand, and the ronin slightly lowered their weapons, though their gazes remained full of hostility.
"Let's do business in a more civilized way. You want the map, and I want to know if you're worthy of it. Prove your value first."
He leaned forward. "There's a Tenryou Commission supply caravan passing through Chinju Forest tomorrow night. They're carrying crystals and ammunition for the front-line samurai. Disrupt them. Cause chaos. Burn their wagons."
He paused, then from behind his kimono he showed a scroll map tied with purple silk cord, without opening it.
"Do that, and this map to Inazuma City… will be yours."
Charles stared at the map scroll, then back at the informant's eyes.
After a brief silence, he slowly withdrew his revolver and stored it behind his cloak.
…
A/N: I'm getting confused about what comment to say.
Btw, I'm still expecting comments!
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