Third Party

As ominous as it was, Luan found himself more relaxed than usual. Maybe it's because of all the stuff he's been up to lately, but whatever a guy named Rat could possibly be hiding, just doesn't seem all that intimidating. Even with the technology that clearly went into hiding this place from anyone snooping around.

He crept forward, footfalls silent and measured in the hopes of stealth. Luan found a flickering bulb propped into the ceiling, barely keeping the surroundings lit with its efforts. A steel door sat in the wall next to it, clearly leading somewhere more promising than the decrepit hallway that held barely any light.

Surprisingly or not, the door led to another hallway, this one lit a bit better by lights along the walls in common intervals. There was a distinct musky scent in the air, the path seeming to lead at a slight slant downwards, as though descending beneath the ground level.

Luan pressed on, holding out hope that he might still catch up to the man he was previously stalking. Either way, he had been led to a sketchy establishment, so there should still be the possibility of finding some answers.

After winding around in circles for a while, though the hallway remained relatively straight, Luan came upon a large room filled with shelves. There were a couple of doors along the walls around the room, each providing an option on where to continue.

Luan immediately began rifling through the junk in the room, searching for anything that might be incriminating while trying to keep an eye out for anyone that might hinder his progress. Or be after his life, whatever comes first really.

Either way, whoever owned this place would not be happy to find a random omega, albeit one that isn't super obviously one, rooting through their things and snooping around. Most of the stuff in the room is crates of miscellaneous junk, seeming almost pointless to have around. Seriously, who keeps a box of microscopes in a random room of a building where criminals meet up? It didn't make sense. How could there even be a need for so many?

He scoffed slightly, pushing that box away like it had wronged him somehow, and went looking for something more useful.

The others yielded similar results, in the sense that nothing even remotely useful was kept in any of them. He considered, perhaps, that this room was used only for storing things people weren't using.

So, with a lot less enthusiasm than he started with, Luan decided to try his luck with the doors that littered the room. There was one on each wall, as though to keep this room perfectly symmetrical. All he had to do was pick one. He made sure to keep track of the one he came through, not wanting to end up back in that endless tunnel that led absolutely nowhere.

For the sake of symmetry, as the architects clearly tried to stay faithful to, Luan opted for the door opposite the one he'd come from. It seemed as good a choice as any.

Another hallway, though this one very obviously split off to the side a bit of the way down, and was lit by torch shaped lights along the walls, higher up than Luan ever hoped to reach. Already, this semi-new direction seems more promising.

With a quickened pace, he rounds the bend almost immediately after leaving the useless storage room. The hallway widens, the end converging into a set of double doors. All Luan can focus on in that moment is the deep blue they're painted, making everything else look so gray in comparison. He creeps closer, watching the doors intently to see if anyone decides to exit when he happens to be creeping around the hallway outside of it.

They're made of wood, thick and adept at keeping whatever sound from leaking out for Luan's ears to catch. With a deep breath, he slowly pushes one of them open a crack, listening with bated breath for any signs of people on the other side. When none come, he gingerly opens it a bit further, peeking an eye around the crack and surveying the inside.

The room is massive, filled with a couple tables along one side with cozy seating surrounding them. There's a fireplace, large and lit, heating the entire room with its soft glow and raging sparks encased behind the fireguard. No living soul was in sight, so Luan took the chance and ventured further into the room.

Plants hung around the edges, giving it a surprisingly calming vibe for being in the building an illegal deal was about to go down in. Especially if this was the room they were planning on using. Just to be safe, Luan brought out some of his equipment: A couple of small cameras and bugs to capture whatever was said and done. He really enjoyed the kind of tools one could easily carry and conceal on his person without the hassle of lugging it all around in a bag.

When that's done, all he has to do is find a hiding spot. Luan doesn't want to trust that nothing will go wrong, so seeing exactly what happens will be the best way to ease his mind.

As he takes another look around, this time trying to find a good spot he can fit in, his eyes spot a set of cupboards against one wall. Looking through each one, he finds one empty. With little thought to how big he really is, Luan squishes inside. it's a tight fit, muscles wanting to cramp after only ten minutes, but he forces himself to ride it out. Comfort is just a state of mind, anyway.

Despite every wish he could ever hope for, he ends up waiting in that cramped spot for a little over two hours, body stuffed in tight and uncomfortable to the max. No, very comfortable, because he tells himself that is how it feels, and refuses to even consider the opposite.

His back feels a bit bowed, head crammed against the ceiling as his arms fold over his tucked in legs. There's a little spider web in the corner opposite his head, empty and abandoned. He almost wishes someone were home, so he could have a little company during the wait.

It's the sound of loud footsteps, a couple of sets of them, approaching that breaks him out of his dazed headspace.

Voices carry over to his spot, one of them loud and sounding very cross with whoever it's directed at. The rest seem smaller, more hesitant to state their full opinions and just leaning on whoever speaks loudest.

It's the words that really pique his interest, though.

"That man is ruining my business! Just what is he after, stealing half my supplies nearly every run?!" The loud one fumes, huffed breaths of pure vexation leaking into every syllable.

A couple people respond, platitudes and flimsy reassurances making their presence known.

"I'm sure he'll back off, boss. We just gotta give him what he wants for a little while, he can't possibly need that much of it." A timid little response slips out, the owner of the voice sounding way too scared to be sincere.

"I don't care who he is, he can't just steal from me!! One of these days, Dante Jin is going to get a bullet to the head! We'll see how he feels about taking my stuff then!"

Dante again. Luan almost feels like beating the voice up so he can't make that guy appear in his life again. He's seriously everywhere.

"Boss, careful! The Jins have eyes everywhere! He might hear you!" One of the stronger voices joins in, shaky even with the courage it took to refute their angered leader.

"I don't care!" The man shrieks back, effectively quelling any more uprisings against what he might say. This man seemed to prefer people who didn't oppose him. There's a loud creak, a heavy body making one of the chairs its home as the men started gathering closer to the fire.

"y'know boss, I heard Dante's got a kid." It was a small voice in the recently silenced room that spoke. Luan felt himself tense at the implications.

He risked a tiny peek through the crack in his hiding place, the door easing open just enough for him to see the occupants of the room. There were seven men total, most deferring to the heavy set man in the chair closest to the fire.

The man who had just spoken seemed to likely be the one leaning towards the leader. He was tall and thin, reminiscent to Rat in a way.

There was something more menacingly about this man, though. His eyes seemed to practically devour everything they looked at, ever searching for what they might want to feast on next.

There was something sinister in its tone, like whoever it was had wanted to shift the focus to that topic, without appearing like they did.