Cultist factory 2

The guard stood there for a moment, her fingers tightening around the rifle as she studied Cassidy and Belial. Her masked face betrayed no emotion, but there was hesitation in her stance. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but firm.

"What exactly are you offering?"

Cassidy's grin widened. "An opportunity." He gestured at the cell bars. "We're with the Crimson Phoenix Guild. It's basically a haven for people like us. People who've got nowhere else to go, people who've made mistakes. If you're sick of playing watchdog for these fools, there's a place for you."

Quite the salesman, Belial thought dryly, but he said nothing, watching the exchange unfold.

The guard shifted her weight, skeptical. "And how do I know I can trust you?"

Cassidy reached into his pocket, moving deliberately so as not to startle her, and pulled out a sleek black card. He flicked it between his fingers before holding it out for her to see. The dim light of the corridor caught the silver lettering on the surface.

She stepped closer, cautiously, and took the card from his hand. Her eyes flickered over the details:

Corporation: Hunters Association 

Guild: Crimson Phoenix 

Name: Cassidy Du Fontaine 

Race: Human 

Rank: A 

Sex: Male 

Class: Duelist 

Fighting Ability: A 

Ether Capacity: A

Her grip on the card tightened. An A-rank. Her gaze flicked up to Cassidy, scrutinizing him. He didn't look like an A-rank. Not with that easy smile and casual posture. But something about him felt... off.

Then she saw the name.

Cassidy Du Fontaine.

Her breath caught in her throat as recognition slammed into her like a hammer. She had heard that name before, whispered in hushed voices back when she still worked for the organization.

The Vague Noire.

She had never met him personally, but she had heard the stories. The things he had done. The things he had been accused of. That old ID photo made sense now—the Cassidy in the picture was younger, meaner. His eyes had held a sharp, dangerous glint. The man standing before her seemed different, but was he really?

A heavy silence stretched between them. Cassidy's smile didn't waver, but there was something watchful in his eyes. He could see her recognition. He was waiting for her reaction.

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the keys on her belt. What the hell am I doing? she thought.

But then she thought about her own situation. The sickness gnawing at her from the inside. The debt she could never pay off. The choices that had led her here, standing guard in a place that treated her like nothing more than a disposable grunt. She had taken this job because it was the only one left to her. A former criminal didn't get many good opportunities.

And now here was Cassidy Du Fontaine, a man who had walked away from something just as dark as she had, offering her a way out.

Her fingers closed around the keys.

She inhaled sharply, glancing once more at Cassidy. "You better not be lying."

"I don't lie," Cassidy said smoothly. "I just leave out the boring details."

With a quiet click, she unlocked the cell. The heavy metal door creaked as it swung open. Cassidy stepped forward, stretching dramatically.

"That's more like it," he said, rolling his shoulders.

Belial followed, eyeing the guard warily. "Are you sure about this?"

She hesitated before answering. "I don't know," she admitted. "But I know staying here is worse."

Cassidy clapped a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn't pull away. "Good answer."

She swallowed hard. This was real. She was really doing this.

Cassidy turned to Belial. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here before anyone else shows up."

Belial nodded, but his eyes lingered on the guard. Trust was a fragile thing, and they had only just begun to test it.

As they moved down the corridor, the guard finally spoke again. "Why did you leave that life?" she asked Cassidy.

He didn't answer immediately. The usual smirk flickered across his lips, but there was a pause—a hesitation Belial hadn't seen before.

Then, with a shrug, Cassidy said, "Because it wasn't worth it anymore."

She frowned. "That's it?"

He chuckled. "No, but it's all you're getting for now."

They reached a corner, pausing to listen for any approaching footsteps. The silence was heavy. Too heavy.

Belial shot Cassidy a sharp glance. "You sure she's not leading us into a trap?"

Cassidy wiggled his fingers playfully. "You wound me, mon ami. Have a little faith."

The guard tensed at Belial's accusation, but she didn't snap back. Instead, she just exhaled, her grip tightening on the rifle in her hands. Maybe I should have left them in the cell.

They kept moving, their steps quiet against the cold stone floor. The air was thick with tension, but the guard couldn't stop thinking about Cassidy's answer. It wasn't worth it anymore.

Something about that felt too simple. Too clean. A man like him didn't just leave a past like his behind.

But then again, neither had she.

A sharp noise echoed from the far end of the hall. Voices. Heavy boots striking the ground.

Cassidy's easygoing grin faded in an instant. He turned to the guard. "Time to prove your loyalty, chérie. You with us or not?"

She gritted her teeth. No turning back now.

She raised her rifle, chambering a round. "Let's go."

Cassidy's grin returned, sharp as a blade. "Knew I liked you. I never got your name."

The guard hesitated for a moment before answering, "Cerise."

"Oh my! Chérie Cerise, that has a nice ring to it." Cassidy's voice carried an unmistakable charm, his smirk widening just slightly.

Belial had no words. He was stunned by how smoothly that went. Not even in a million years would he be able to do the same. He still had trouble talking to girls, and the idea of effortlessly swaying someone like Cassidy just did seemed completely foreign to him. But maybe, just maybe, he should try learning from Cassidy's methods in the future—when he could properly talk to a girl, that is.

The group moved cautiously down the dimly lit hall. Cassidy lifted his hand, summoning a small bead of water, and sent it rolling silently into the darkness ahead. Moments later, a faint series of dull thuds echoed back through the corridor.

Belial's steps slowed as they reached the fallen figures. His eyes widened slightly, scanning the motionless guards strewn across the ground. He hadn't even seen Cassidy move, hadn't sensed an attack. And yet, they had walked almost thirty meters, and the bodies kept appearing. Cassidy's reach, his speed—it was beyond impressive. It was terrifying.

Cerise, meanwhile, swallowed hard. She had taken a risk siding with Cassidy, and yet, in this moment, she felt something close to relief. She had been trapped in this miserable existence for so long, barely scraping by, and now—whether or not she would survive this—she at least had a sliver of hope.

The group pressed on, each footstep carefully measured. As they reached a spiraling set of stairs, Cassidy glanced back at his companions.

"Hope you two are decent climbers," he quipped before vaulting upward with a practiced ease.

Cerise took a breath, bracing herself before leaping. Her fingers barely caught the ledge. She struggled for a second, her grip slipping. A sharp inhale of panic escaped her lips, but before she could fall, Cassidy's hand was there, grasping her wrist and pulling her up with effortless strength.

"Easy there, chérie," he murmured with a smirk, steadying her before releasing his hold.

Cerise exhaled sharply, steadying herself. Then, at last, Belial followed suit, pulling himself up and landing beside them. He shook his head, muttering something about Cassidy showing off, but the duelist only chuckled.

They walked onward through the facility, tension crackling in the air around them. Then, they reached an enormous room.

Industrial piping ran along the high ceilings, and massive steel beams cut through the dim glow of overhead lamps. The scent of oil and metal hung thick in the air. This was unmistakably a factory.

Their eyes swept across the figures ahead. Cloaked individuals moved in hushed conversations, some with their hoods drawn, others with their faces visible.

And then Belial saw him.

Flint.

His entire body tensed involuntarily. The steely grey eyes and blond hair—There was no mistaking him

Cassidy's expression remained unreadable, but his fingers twitched slightly, as if already preparing for what was to come.

Cerise glanced between them, sensing the shift in the air. "Friend of yours?" she whispered under her breath.

Belial let out a slow breath, his gaze fixed forward.

"Not exactly."