Chapter 53 - Finding a place to rest
He didn't go far, however. In previous days, he'd mostly used that same roof he arrived on to rest when he needed it, but going there wasn't viable now.
When shrouding himself in shadows, he had a relatively easy time sneaking around the usually dark expanse, but the same could not be said when he was carrying someone in his arms. No, he had to find a place nearby, preferably with a bed this time.
"I've gotten tired of spending my nights on that roof, anyway," he muttered to himself.
He now stood at the entrance to this dead-end alley, taking the form of a T-split. While panning his gaze at either direction he could go in, he directed his attention towards his constant companion. "Nova? Do you have any input here? I need a preferably abandoned apartment to crash in."
"Understood, Damian. Please give me a moment," the emotionless but female voice he'd come to know so well echoed in his mind. So, Damian stood there for a moment, seeming far too calm and casual for someone who carried what looked like the recently murdered corpse of a woman in his arms.
Still, he clouded himself in darkness to ensure it would at least be harder to spot him and his passenger. "Easy enough when I'm not moving, anyway," he sighed to himself. At the same time, his eyes scanned the nearby windows that looked out over these alleys to make sure there wasn't anyone watching.
After a few minutes, Nova responded again: "I found a suitable location. The building to your left, third floor, apartment 3B. Security is minimal—mechanical locks, as well as some ground-level surveillance." Her voice carried no urgency, no concern—just cold, precise information delivered with inhuman efficiency.
Damian exhaled through his nose, shifting the weight in his arms. "Ground-level surveillance, huh? Sounds extensive for an apartment building in the slums… I guess this is one of the nice ones? Then again, it's not like I'm that familiar with the norm here."
Nova remained quiet for a moment. Then, she responded with, surprisingly, a hint of apology in her voice. "I have no data on this."
Damian raised an eyebrow at her tone, "That's okay, Nova, I didn't expect you to." No answer came, and Damian chuckled to himself about actually expecting some relief from her.
"Anyway," he continued, "Sounds good. Anything I should watch out for?"
"The building's interior camera network is outdated but still operational. I have temporarily looped the feed covering the door to your left. Your clothes would avoid recognition but still produce a blot on the image."
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Damian's lips. "Always so thorough, Nova."
"I am functioning as designed," she replied flatly.
Damian rolled his eyes, and decided the shift in tone he thought to have heard before was likely just his imagination. Glancing to his left, he noticed a metal door leading into the building there and made his way over. Once there, he slightly shifted Alita around to temporarily free one hand and pressed it against the lock.
Mechanical locks had long since been entirely eradicated in the Cooperative, for the simple reason that a slight application of myst would easily render them useless.
As expected, the lock jumped open, and Damian made his way inside, locking the door again behind him. He found himself in a stairwell. Looking up, he noticed the old, barely functioning camera Nova mentioned before and smirked. It did feel good to be in a technologically inferior world.
Still, he reminded himself this was the poorest area of the city, and this security was falling apart at the seams. Nova had already informed him this planet possessed a global network similar to those in the Cooperative, and there remained many places she couldn't infiltrate—at least, not yet.
With large steps, Damian bounded his way up the stairs until he reached the third floor. So far, he'd not encountered anyone, but that wasn't too surprising. It was night, after all.
Stalking through the dilapidated halls, he soon found 3B and repeated his lockpicking trick. Once inside, he was hit by an immense stench that immediately assaulted his nose, making him cringe. "Fuck, what the hell died in here?!"
"The previous occupant," Nova responded dispassionately. "I hacked his workstation, thereby accessing his camera and records. He appears to have died a few weeks ago, but rent is paid through the end of the month."
"Well, his loss, my gain," Damian muttered indifferently. Blocking his wrinkling nose with myst, Damian moved into the small but relatively well-maintained apartment, a stark contrast to the halls and outside. "Must have had some money," Damian analyzed calmly.
It didn't take long for him to encounter the deceased occupant. Slumped into a comfortable chair in front of a number of flickering screens, he discovered the partially decayed corpse of a middle-aged man, eyes wide in ecstasy, and a needle in his arm.
"Hmpf," Damian snorted. "Well, there's a story that tells itself." Moderation wasn't generally a Bloodkin trait, but actual overdoses weren't particularly common. At least, not among the Moroi.
Regardless, he found a bed that was built into the wall and deposited his cargo on it. Then, after stretching his body, glanced at the dead man's body with a scowl. Still, when forced to choose between handling this decaying heap of flesh and bone, or staying in this disgusting smell, then, frankly, he had his choice.
Unceremoniously, Damian dragged the man's remains out of his seat and moved over to a nearby window. When glancing outside, he realized this place looked out over the very alley in which he'd already left behind three corpses.
"Well, one more or less, you know…?" he muttered callously and then pushed the body out the window. With a dull thud, it landed on the alley floor, and Damian quickly closed the window behind it, lest the smell simply comes back in through there.
It would still linger for a while in the apartment, but with Nova's help, ventilation was already working to get rid of it. With that done, Damian looked over at a certain door with shining eyes.
He determined that to be a bathroom earlier, and frankly, it had already been far too long since his last shower. Even if his clothes wouldn't easily get dirty or start stinking, his body was not the same.
"Let's hope this man enjoyed a clean bathroom…" he muttered to himself in a silent prayer to whoever would listen and went inside. Fortunately, he did, and about an hour later, a contented and clean Damian dropped himself into a comfortable chair with a deep sigh and a lazy smile, once again wearing his black and purple outfit.
Resting his feet on the bed Alita occupied, Damian closed his eyes and waited for her to wake up.