One last distraction

The figure turned, and this was no mistaking his. Xin stood with his usual poise, his dark hair tied back in a sleek braid, his piercing eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made him feel like he could see straight through him. he was dressed in his leather armor. His expression was unreadable, but this was a flicker of something in his gaze—surprise, maybe, or annoyance. It was hard to tell with Xin .

"Bel," he said, his voice calm and measured. "..You're up late."

"I could say the same to you," he shot back, stepping fully into the room. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. The transport circle was active, its intricate patterns glowing faintly. Xin was wide eyed he wasn't doing anything but Belial came to a conclusion; he was sneaking out . "What are you doing here? And don't give me some cryptic nonsense. You suck at lying"

Xin regarded him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the transport circle. "I could ask you the same question. Shouldn't you be resting after today's… excitement?"

Belial's jaw tightened. Of course he knew about the factory. Xin always seemed to know everything, even when he wasn't this. "Cut the crap, Xin. What's going on? Why are you sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

Caught off guard, Xin fumbled for an explanation, his words tumbling over each other in a jumble of half-formed excuses.

Belial sighed, his expression softening. "You suck at lying," he said gently. "I'll help you with whatever you're trying to do. There's no need to try to do everything by yourself."

Xin looked at him, surprised but also relieved. He had been so focused on his mission that he had forgotten he didn't have to carry the burden alone. With a nod, he accepted Belial's offer, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

A red glow appeared on the outskirts of the black building, casting eerie shadows across its facade.

"Here again?" Belial asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"I want to find Kingpin. To do that, I need to investigate this building," Xin replied, determination evident in his tone.

Belial shrugged and followed Xin into the building. Surprisingly, the usual clutter of cyborg or robot parts was absent, leaving an unsettling emptiness.

"Wouldn't it be better if that girl... um..." Belial began, searching for the right name.

[The individual's name is Jia,] Oracle reminded him.

"Jia. Why didn't we bring her with us? I'm sure she would've been helpful since she was here," Belial finished.

"Jia can't..but she told me there is something in her secret drawer " Xin explained.

"Just as I thought, everything here is wiped clean," Xin muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.

They continued to search the sterile environment, hoping to find any trace that could lead them to Kingpin. The air was thick with the scent of old metal and something else, something faintly chemical, as they moved through the desolate corridors.

Xin searched until he found himself standing in what was once Jia's workshop. The room, now wiped clean, had an eerie emptiness to it. The metallic table she used to work at stood under dim lighting, casting long shadows across the floor.

'I know Jia,' Xin thought to himself. 'Even as kids, she was incredibly intelligent. Every time I built something, she tried to replicate it. It wasn't always perfect, but for her age, it was extraordinarily difficult. She must've left something behind.'

He moved behind the table, his eyes scanning the area. He noticed a faint circle drawn with chalk on the floor. He recalled that Jia used to draw circles around herself when she was brainstorming.

Kneeling down to the circle, Xin looked up at the table. One of the drawers seemed much cleaner than the others. Intrigued, he opened it, finding nothing inside. He closed it and listened carefully, hearing an odd click that most people would miss.

He systematically checked the other drawers, which did not produce the same sound but instead popped in when he pushed the knobs. Returning to the clean drawer, he pushed and twisted the knob, realizing it was more like a safe than a regular drawer.

Xin twisted the knob until he heard the first click, indicating he had found the first 'number' of the combination. He continued twisting until he heard the other two clicks, then opened the drawer again. This time, it revealed small trinkets that he used to make with Jia when they were younger. A warm smile spread across his face as memories flooded back.

"Hey, looks like something popped open here," Belial called out, breaking Xin's reverie.

Xin stood up and walked over to where Belial was pointing. On the right side of the table, another drawer had popped open. Inside, they found a piece of a cyborg's arm. Xin picked it up, examining it closely. It had a serial number etched into the metal, and attached to it was a note that read, 'Lyon. inc'

Belial leaned in, studying the arm with Xin. "Lyon Inc.," he murmured. "Is that a lead?"

"It has to be," Xin replied, his eyes narrowing in determination. "Jia must have left this here for a reason. We need to find out more about this company and its connection to the Kingpin."

The streets grew darker and narrower as Xin and Belial ventured deeper into the city's underbelly. Shadows flickered from the dim, yellowed streetlights, casting an eerie glow on the cracked pavement. They soon reached The Whispering Web, a run-down bar with a flickering neon sign. The faint hum of conversations and clinking glasses emanated from within.

As they entered, the room fell silent for a brief moment, curious eyes sizing up the newcomers. The bar's patrons were a motley crew—thieves, smugglers, and other denizens of the underworld. Xin's demeanor shifted; he was no longer the composed guild member but someone who belonged to this environment. Belial, however, looked slightly out of place, his intense aura giving away his inexperience in such settings.

Xin whispered to Belial, "Let me do the talking. Follow my lead."

Belial nodded, trying to blend in. They approached the bar, where a grizzled bartender with a scar running down his face cleaned a glass with a dirty rag.

"We're looking for something," Xin said, his voice low and casual. " Lyon Inc."

The bartender's eyes narrowed. "Information isn't free, kid. You got coin, or are you wasting my time?"

Xin slid a few coins across the counter. "This should cover a drink and a conversation."

The bartender scoffed, pocketing the coins. "Lyon Inc., huh? Haven't heard that name in a while. Why you interested?"

Before Xin could respond, Belial, eager to show his own initiative, blurted out, "We're looking for someone, relating to kin—a big player."

The bartender's gaze sharpened. "Big player, huh? And who might you be looking for exactly?"

Belial hesitated, his lips parting as if he were on the verge of revealing too much. Sensing the danger, Xin quickly intervened, placing a firm hand on Belial's shoulder. His grip was steady, a silent warning to tread carefully. "We're looking for someone who might have connections to… let's say, less-than-legal dealings," Xin said smoothly, his voice low but deliberate. "No names, just leads. You know how it is."

The bartender's eyes narrowed, his gaze flickering between the two strangers. He relaxed slightly, but suspicion still lingered in the lines of his face. "You new around here?" he asked, his tone cautious. "You don't look like regulars."

Xin nodded, his calm demeanor unshaken. "Just passing through. We heard The Whispering Web is the place to get answers."

The bartender grunted, wiping down the counter with a rag that had seen better days. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There's a guy in the corner over there sulking in booze. Name's Viktor. If anyone knows about the comings and goings of this town, it's him. But be careful—he's not the type to give anything away for free. And he might just set you up if he doesn't like your face."

Xin offered a curt nod of thanks and gestured for Belial to follow. They made their way through the dimly lit bar, the air thick with the scent of stale alcohol and the low murmur of hushed conversations. In the back corner, they found Viktor. He was a burly man with a steely gaze that seemed to pierce through the shadows. His arms were crossed, and his expression was guarded as he watched them approach.

"You Viktor?" Xin asked, his tone neutral but firm.

Viktor's eyes flicked up, assessing them with a practiced ease. "Depends who's asking," he replied, his voice rough like gravel.

"We're looking for information about Lyon Inc.," Xin said, cutting straight to the point. He didn't have time for games, and Viktor didn't strike him as the type to appreciate small talk.

Viktor's eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing through them, but he remained silent. Xin pressed on, his voice steady. "We have questions, and we're willing to make it worth your while."

For a moment, Viktor simply studied them, his gaze lingering on Belial before returning to Xin. Finally, he motioned to the chairs across from him. "Alright," he said, his tone cautious. "You've got my attention. What do you want to know?"

As they took their seats, Xin noticed the tension in Belial's posture—the way his hands clenched slightly, the stiffness in his shoulders. He gave Belial a subtle, reassuring nod. They were walking a fine line here, but Xin had spent enough time in the Undertown to know how to navigate these situations. He had learned when to push and when to hold back, when to offer coin and when to keep his hand close to his blade.

"We're looking for anyone connected to Lyon Inc.," Xin said, his voice calm but firm. "Someone who might know their operations, their deals… their weaknesses."

Viktor's expression darkened, and he leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. "That's a dangerous company to be poking around," he said, his tone laced with warning. "You sure you want to mess with them?"

"We're aware of the risks," Xin replied, his voice unwavering. "But we're trying to do business with them. And we need to know who we're dealing with."

Viktor's eyes narrowed further, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "How do I know you're not one of the Order?" he asked, his voice low and suspicious. "They've been sniffing around lately, asking questions. I don't need that kind of trouble."

Xin's expression remained calm, but his mind raced. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch of coins, the metallic clink of gold echoing softly in the quiet corner. He slid it across the table toward Viktor. "If you've lived in this town long enough," Xin said, his voice steady, "you know who's an outsider. And you know who's just trying to survive."

Viktor's gaze dropped to the pouch, his fingers twitching slightly as if tempted to reach for it. But he hesitated, his eyes flicking back to Xin. "Lyon Inc. doesn't take kindly to people asking questions," he said slowly. "But if you're determined to walk this path, I might know a few things. For the right price."

Xin leaned back, his expression unreadable. "We're listening."