My custom device revealed the trickeries a human eye couldn't detect. The unpredictable strolls of the guards have been harder to pin down. However, after days of sneaking around, I finally approached a door.
An alarm gearing up to blare at full volume any moment now. Wasn't worried. I've done this hundreds of times. Warhorse had ample time to disarm it. The hard part was already behind me.
Well, okay – escaping with the bounty was the real hard part, but only if I mess something up. And I was better than that.
I sat down on the cold tiles of the antechamber, doctoring the logs of my entry.
The security footage threw me off. From outside, this was but a dreary stone mansion in a gloomy park, of a town nobody cared about.
I hadn't seen the interior yet – nor would I have appreciated it in the dark. And it was a sight that demanded a second glance. Faceted mouldings traced intricate patterns on the black walls; crowded artwork gave the place a ghostly semblance of a gallery.
Unfortunately, I wasn't here to get spiritually enriched. The last significant build-up of input was over a month ago.
My nemesis visited here.
I was unable to ignore the events leading to my demise.
Right now, the property was so lifeless that it almost sapped vigour from all who walked past. During the owner's visit, however, armed personnel and the shivering marble statues were abundant. Even so, the black halls remained soundless in Raktkalis's presence. No audio was captured, but I saw it from the careful steps everyone took.
Albeit terrified, the servants were ultimately ignored – just like the art on the walls. Mostly.
A girl made a misstep carrying a familiar canister. She was elegantly relieved of the package, then sent flying down into the basement. I zipped ahead, but never saw her leave. Not in a single piece, anyway. The pet abominations roamed the grounds freely and eventually descended down there, too.
Whoever ran the family's security was aglow with prestige. They were endowed with so much trust. The recording, albeit not exactly a murder on tape, was pretty darn close to that.
If it were to leak… something would have to be done.
Yeah. To me. His crimes were not secret to anyone who cared to know anyway.
Average person would neither care, nor could do anything about scandals. Regardless of how substantial they might be. Those dissatisfied with the protective arrangements were free to leave.
Whoever was recruiting the staff deserved a raise, too. Nothing would have kept me standing so close to that unpredictable maniac. Even his four-legged mutants were treated better.
Surprising, but not unexpected. Kalanta, before it was Kalanta, lost a war they started during the Invasion. It was a centuries old affair, but the disdain must have persisted through the force of habit.
Ironic. By now, each Raktkalis was essentially a local. The wars, both with beasts and other nations, decimated the direct lines. The Generals picked their replacements from the countless bastards and distant relations. Meritocracy was a beautiful thing like that.
I admired a prime specimen of it for a second too long. The wannabe warlord was well-sculpted. I'll give him that. And no more. Beauty was worthless to me.
Quickly backtracked to the office, this time focusing on details. Nothing was left out in the open. This man was too meticulous for helpful oversights. The recordings' quality was too poor to reveal the contents of documents, too.
However, I saw hope.
I was no safecracker under normal circumstances, but the dark reflective surfaces were on my side. Copied everything relevant from their database and packed up to try my luck.
The workroom was as imposing as its owner. Large space with glossy walls made me feel like I was in a mall at night. It was too large for just a single person to occupy. On film, comfortably lounging abominations made this room appear far cosier than it really was.
He intended to make me one of those beasts. Me.
I felt sick. The alien arm twitched, then lashed out, unsurprisingly hitting nothing. I knew it was just reacting to my own rage, but having an empathetic companion in this situation was nice.
Relaxed and forced the fury down. Couldn't engage in a righteous property damage. Can't leave a single thing out of place here. Not even a lingering scent. My schemes only worked while my movements went unquestioned. I still had treasure troves to plunder in the other estates.
Even with hints, I spent hours leaning on the safe. I didn't have anything to show for this intrusion, so just kept at it.
It didn't help that the watchmen were milling around. Unlike me, they probably couldn't register the blips from the buttons, but I wasn't risking it. It was lucky enough the office was assumed to be locked and got no drop-ins.
The broad hatch finally clicked free.
I rushed to take pictures of the documents. There weren't many. Sale of this and that, acquisition of military hardware, drafts of strange fauna encounters and battle reports. Nothing incriminating. If anything, this painted a picture of a diligent junior officer. Documentation of private business dealings could fetch me lofty sum, and I'll need money to take him on.
I eyed longingly the currency stacked in here. As well as the databanks. Left them be.
Nevertheless, a stack of blank forms lay in front of me all suggestively. I caressed the thick paper, its embossed heraldic patterns enhanced by shimmering holograms. Too intricate to forge, these were far more valuable than money.
A single sheet would permit me to manufacture any disaster of my choosing. I could order this historic mansion to be dismantled, brick by brick. Or open fire on friendly forces. Nobody would question the words on this paper. Everything would be carried out to the letter.
Toned down my rearing megalomania. A stunt that big would land me in shackles. Didn't need the attention of the entire government.
It would need to be something ultimately insignificant. Personal. Irritating. Inconvenient. Like sending an insult; propositioning another General's daughter. It was a pity to waste such precious resource on a nonsense like that, but ultimately that fit the parameters. These snobs probably never sent private letters on anything else anyway. To them, this had to be no more than a tissue.
All appropriate stationery was locked up here, too. This was meant to be.
I took another sheet just in case. Even if it was noticed – it was more than worth it. A carefully worded letter would save me from scrutiny in a clutch. Official courier on urgent business, permit passage without question.
With this, I could just leave.
Shook my head. I was tired of starting over. It wasn't critical yet.
More importantly, I hadn't had my payback yet. This was not a foe I could defeat… just like the one before him. Even so, I could cause nasty problems to those who meant me harm. Eventually, they would all learn to stay at arm's length.
Pushovers only ended up in basements.