Interrogation

Kyren and Lydel barely had time to catch their breath before a metal rod hurtled past them, crackling with electricity. It wasn't enough to kill, but if it hit, it would leave them stunned—vulnerable. The room around them was worn with time, damp, and dimly lit by flickering lanterns. The air smelled of mildew and sweat.

Behind a rickety desk stood a man—bald, thick-built—his fingers crackling with electricity as he reached for another metal rod. Near the door, a large enforcer was regaining his footing, shaking off the daze from their last exchange. Another man sat slumped against the desk, too stunned to move. The fourth? Crushed beneath the rubble.

Hopefully, Kyren thought, he'd be the only death tonight.

The bald man clenched the metal rod, his hands crackling again. At that same moment, the enforcer by the door charged at Lydel. The boss didn't throw the rod—it shot forward as if propelled by pure energy.

Kyren dove right, barely dodging it. The rod whizzed between the charging man and Lydel, embedding itself in the wall with a loud thunk.

Sloppy. These guys weren't used to fighting together.

Lydel noticed too. The enforcer flinched at the near miss, and Lydel used the moment to strike, kicking the man's knee hard before darting around to regroup with Kyren.

The bald man was already bending down for another rod.

Kyren leaned toward Lydel, voice low. "Keep the big guy busy. Make sure his back is to the boss."

Lydel nodded and dashed forward, weaving between the enforcer's heavy swings. His punches landed, but they barely did any damage. The guy was built like a wall.

Kyren didn't have time to dwell on it—he sprinted for the desk. The slumped man against it scooted back, pressing himself against the wall, eyes darting in panic. Kyren barely spared him a glance.

Just five feet away.

The bald man's rod shot forward.

Kyren's enhanced reflexes kicked in. He ducked low, feeling the charge of static as it zipped past his head.

Behind him, the enforcer grunted as the rod struck him square in the back. He crumpled, body twitching violently from the shock.

Kyren leapt over the desk, driving his knee straight into the boss's chin. The impact sent the man flying back, his skull cracking against the wall before he slumped, dazed.

Silence.

Kyren turned to the man against the wall—thin, shaking, covered in scabs and open wounds. His clothes hung off his frail frame like rags.

"I—I just owed them money," he stammered. "I don't want trouble, please."

Kyren nodded. "Then leave. We're only here for the people selling this poison."

The man hesitated, then scrambled to his feet. "This village is small. They're the only ones selling here. But if you're trying to clean up the bigger ones…" His voice dropped. "It won't be this easy."

Kyren watched as he limped out the door, pausing only to mouth a silent thank you before disappearing into the night.

Kyren exhaled, then turned to Lydel. "Find something to tie them up with."

Lydel rummaged through the room, eventually pulling out an old rope. He unsheathed his short sword, cutting it in half while Kyren dragged the unconscious men to the center of the room. Together, they bound their wrists behind their backs and propped them against the wall.

The room was quiet now, save for their ragged breathing.

Kyren crouched in front of them, resting an arm on his knee. He let the silence stretch, let them feel the weight of their situation.

Lydel crossed his arms. "We're not gonna waste time. Tell us who supplies you, and we leave."

The bald man coughed, spitting blood. "Go to hell."

Kyren sighed. That was expected. No one gave up their supplier that easily.

He turned his gaze to the enforcer. "What about you? You seemed real eager to fight back there. Not so eager now, though."

The big man rolled his shoulders, testing the rope. He sneered. "You don't got it in you, kid."

Kyren met his eyes, holding his stare. His pulse still pounded from the fight. He wasn't sure how far he'd go to get answers—but they didn't need to know that.

He reached into his inventory and pulled out The Eclipsing Fang. The blade caught the dim lantern light as he turned it in his fingers, slow and deliberate. Then, without a word, he flipped it and drove the point into the wooden floor between them. Not an attack. Not even a direct threat. Just a reminder.

"I don't need to hurt you," Kyren said, voice calm. "I just need you scared enough to start talking."

The bald man forced a chuckle. "Like I said, go to—"

Kyren moved fast. He yanked the knife from the floor and slammed the handle into the man's bruised chin. His head snapped back against the wall, and he groaned, dazed again.

The big man flinched. Kyren noticed.

Lydel crouched beside him. "Let me explain something," he said, voice almost casual. "You're nothing. Just two small-time dealers who got caught slipping. The people you work for? They don't care about you. If you disappear, they'll replace you tomorrow."

The enforcer exhaled sharply through his nose, looking away.

Kyren leaned in. "Or, you tell us what we want to know… and we leave you alive. No more broken bones. No more pain."

Silence.

Then, the big man shifted, testing his bonds. "They call him Phantom," he muttered. "We don't see him. We don't meet him. Orders come through drops, shipments show up, and that's it."

Kyren frowned. Phantom. Again.

The bald man scoffed, blood on his lips. "You think you're getting anything else out of us? We're dead either way."

Kyren's grip tightened around the knife. He was right. If Phantom was smart, he wouldn't leave loose ends.

Lydel tilted his head. "Where do the shipments come from?"

A pause. Then, the big guy sighed. "A village closer to the inner city. Sinatra. That's where the shipments come through."

Kyren exchanged a glance with Lydel. Sinatra. That was closer to Epsilon—closer to real power. This was bigger than just one village.

Lydel looked at Kyren. "What do you wanna do with them?"

Kyren stared at the two men. He could kill them. Could make sure they never sold another dose of whatever they were peddling. But he wasn't a murderer.

Not yet.

He exhaled and stepped back. "They're done. We got what we need."

Lydel nodded, grabbed a cloth from the desk, and shoved it into their mouths. "Just in case they feel like yelling for help."

Kyren turned to leave but paused at the door. He looked back at them, his voice quiet but firm.

"If I see you selling again, I will find you."

And next time, he wouldn't be so patient.

Then, without another word, they disappeared into the night, the name Phantom and the village Sinatra lingering in Kyren's mind.

A familiar ding echoed in his head.

New Mission: Stim Stopper.

Kyren barely had time to register it before Lydel let out a sharp groan and collapsed.

Kyren spun. "Lydel!"

He rushed to his friend's side, checking his breathing. Still steady. Just unconscious.

Then, his system flickered.

Sidekick Improvement Plan—1:20 remaining.

Kyren sighed. "So that's what knocked you out…"

He hoisted Lydel onto his back and carried him home.

By the time they reached the orphanage, everyone was asleep. Kyren moved quietly, slipping into his room and laying Lydel onto the bed.

The system blinked again.

Level 5 Rewards: Equipment Upgrade, 25 Stat Points.

Lydel's white clothes shimmered before vanishing, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. Kyren shook his head. "Forgot about that part…"

Then, a pulse of mana filled the room. Lydel's new armor formed—identical to Kyren's, but white, the golden lion's head now a silver-maned emblem on his shoulder.

Kyren's stomach twisted. How am I supposed to explain this?

He had no choice but to lie.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, exhaustion finally dragging him under.

Tomorrow, they had a lot to talk about.