The street was deserted. The streetlamps flickered uncertainly.
Beside him, Ginny moved silent, his nose twitching, paws skimming over puddles of stagnant water.
His eyes gleamed—anxious, yet eager.
— "Finding the ones who sell curses like toys for children," Jin muttered.
"And making them pay for the joke."
He cut through the city's filthiest districts.
Alleyways crawling with garbage, graffiti-scrawled walls, prostitutes staring at him and drug addicts sprawled on the ground.
Duraand was a rather dirty city, but it was a reflection of Kovalia's politicians.
In underground bars, heads turned away the moment he entered.
He traded crumpled, dirty bills for half-spoken truths, delivered with shaking hands and tight throats.
Each piece of information darkened his gaze further.
Finally, in a grimy backroom, a drunk informant, slumped over with fear and drink.
— "The Chrysalid Counter... They deal in tailored curses. That's what you're after, isn't it ?"
Jin leaned closer, his shadow engulfing the trembling man.
— "Where ?"
The man swallowed hard, then pointed a trembling finger down a hidden alley behind a ruined antique shop.
— "Be careful... it's not just a shop. It's a slaughterhouse."
Jin straightened, the glint of death flickering in his eyes.
— "That's perfect, so I'll be the butcher."
The Chrysalid Counter blended in with the district's decay.
A rotting wooden facade, grimy windows, and a rusted bell.
Jin pushed the door open.
A shrill chime split the air, smothered quickly by the scent of rancid incense and dead skin.
But inside, chaos lay still. Dusty shelves bore grotesque artifacts.
Dulled talismans, jars filled with twisted creatures, carved bones, glass skulls.
An oily old man hobbled forward with a smile as false as the gleam in his eyes.
— "Welcome, traveler... Looking for something special tonight?"
Jin tilted his head slightly, feigning weariness.
— "I was told you had rare items. Special ones."
The old man chuckled, revealing rotten teeth.
— "Follow me... Our most precious treasures are kept in the back."
They passed through a groaning door. Then… the backroom.
Rusting cages lined the walls, stacked several stories high.
Inside—broken beings.
Some still human, others twisted by failed curses, screaming in silence, their throats long dead.
Half-beasts, half-human scratched at the bars, bloodied nails scraping hopelessly.
A guard passed Jin without a glance, dragging a heavy silver chain.
— "What would please you?" the old man whispered behind him.
Jin stopped.
He raised his eyes to the cages, to this charnel house disguised as commerce.
Then he turned.
— "Oh... It's not something you can offer me."
He raised his hand.
With a punch he old man flew backward, crashing into a wall.
Jin stepped forward, he feels a cold anger.
— "I've come to offer something," he paused. "Judgment."