Clutching Henry's arm, Damon climbed up the rusty steps.
Nearing the top, a pale silver light appeared, bleeding through a wall of crumbling bricks. With came a sudden symphony of noise. The city itself seemed alive beyond the barrier.
Heart pounding, Damon quickened his pace. Bracing his left shoulder, he slammed into the bricks. As the wall shuddered, dust burst into the air as the stone broke away and collapsed around him. He stumbled forward, coughing violently as grit clawed at his throat and stung his eyes.
Cough! Cough! Cough! " Damn it."
Henry tumbled through the hole behind him, falling to his knees. Covered in dust, he fought for air, each breath dragging the taste of stone. Holding onto the sides of his arms, he felt goosebumps rise across his body as the image of the creature burned vividly in his mind.
"What was that thing?" he hissed, teeth clenched.
"How should I know?, ask Vincent," Damon muttered, rolling his eyes.
Henry blinked, realizing, "Wait!. ...Where is Vincent?"
A voice answered with infuriating cheer. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Honestly, I thought you two had abandoned me to die.. Hahahaha!"
Vincent pushed through the crumbling gap, brushing dust from his coat as if he'd merely stepped out of the house. Stepping away from the hole, he gave one last tap to the remaining wall. His grin faltered as he lifted his gaze, finally taking in a glimpse of the outside scene.
They stood inside the gutted remains of a museum. The roof has long since collapsed, jagged beams jutting toward the night sky like skeletal fingers. Moonlight spilled through gaping holes cases lay half-buried under rubble, their glass dulled with grime. Tall, cracked columns leaned precariously, stubbornly clinging to the last of their dignity. The air carried the faint scent of mold and rust, heavy with the weight of time.
"You think this is funny?!" Reaching to summon his sword, Damon's eyes gleamed with anger.
'I nearly had a heart attack when I sensed that thing approaching us and this bastard laughing'
"Don't joke around like that," Henry added sharply. His voice trembled with anxiety." That thing was ridiculously strong."
"Eh? Was it really?"Vincent asked, tilting his head with false innocence. His act was rather transparent; he understood the danger far better than he let on. In truth, he'd only been testing them, curious to see how they would react under pressure. They had reacted well enough, but something gnawed at him.
Normally, Lanka only appeared if he disturbed the spiders that infested the tunnels. This time, he hadn't killed a single one yet.
But he had an unsettling suspicion.
His eyes flicked briefly toward Damon as his brows furrowed slightly.'Maybe… her sudden appearance had something to do with him. Strong specters might be attracted to him. It's true Lanka is a monster, but she doesn't compare to that thing that marked him.'
The thought made Vincent's expression grow solemn.
He clapped his hands together." Alright, settle down. I know what your thinking but I didn't plan for Lanka to show up like that, Still I knew we'd be fine as long as we got to the next platform." stopping for a moment he gave a small cough into his fist "Anyway, lets not talk about this here."
Henry stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes, gesturing behind him."What about the hole?"
"What hole ?" Vincent asked, amused.
"Obviously, the hole behind us, you twat!" Damon remarked vulgarly.
Suddenly, he felt a poke on his arm. Turning his head and he saw Henry silently retracting his finger, motioning with his eyes for him to look behind.
"Eh? When did you?"Started, Damon froze. To his shock, the breach was gone. Vincent had somehow reconstructed the wall as if it had never been broken.
'How did he do that? I didn't sense any spiritual energy.'
"You two still have a lot to learn," Vincent said with a sly grin.
A short laugh escaped his lips as he turned and stepped out of the ruins.
Following behind, they turned the street corner to see more tilted buildings sprawled with faded graffiti murals. The scent of alcohol and seasoned barbecue filled the air as drunken pedestrians wearing tattered clothing stumbled and danced along the narrow streets. Their laughter echoed through the alleyways, mixing with the harmonies of a ladies' singing troupe. The street had no lack of poor citizens, but their faces were filled with joy as though they had seen a golden goose.
As they navigated through bustling streets, Damon noticed the surroundings slowly shifting. The buildings now stood upright, though they still held traces of time; the designs now carried an air of sophistication with a subtle hint of rune work, yet the laughter didn't cease.
Glancing around, they continued until Vincent spotted a six-story building.
The [Fēi Què Kèzhàn], the brownish building, seemed to stand out among the sea of blueish-gray buildings with tone pillar walls, arches, large windows, and snakelike patterns.
As they entered the motel, Damn took a glance around the first floor. The warm scent of sandalwood and brewed tea greeted him first, masking the faint trace of alcohol that clung to the night air. The lobby was modest but tastefully maintained, with polished wood floors, a reception counter adorned with carved motifs of cranes and clouds, and hanging lanterns that cast a soft amber glow.
Velvet armchairs surrounded a low table near a corner, where a few guests chatted in hushed tones over cups of steaming wine. A glass display near the stairs showcased delicate porcelain vases and framed ink paintings, their edges cracked but carefully preserved. The sound of a slow traditional melody hummed faintly from an old radio speaker behind the counter, adding a calm rhythm to the otherwise tired atmosphere. It reminded Damon of a device he once saw in the library at home.
Behind the reception desk sat a young woman with smooth blond hair, dressed in a neat dark-blue uniform with a white sash tied around her waist. A soft professional smile played across her lips as she greeted them.
"Welcome to the Soaring Sparrow Inn, the best motel on Mellodi Geori, in the entertainment district," she said with a polite bow. She looked up at the trio, taking a glance at their badges. " My name is Jetavii. You, dear sirs, must be the guests reserved under Master Song Junnan's name. We've been expecting you."
Reaching under the table, she produced two brass keys and passed them to Vincent.
"Mr. Junnan has paid a month in advance for two adjoining rooms. Your current accommodations are Rooms 236 and 237 on the third floor; however, we do have availability should you wish them rearranged."
"Thank you, Madame Jetavii, but we're fine with the arrangements."Vincent reasoned it'd be easier to communicate or make a quick escape by jumping through a window.
…..
The motel rooms were rather generous, lamps cast a bright yellow glow across quality furniture, and in the corner of the room, a frozen crystal radiated cooling air, regulating the room's temperature. Damon sat comfortably on his bed, while Henry leaned against the windows with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Vincent, on the other hand, was lounging in the only chair, boots kicked up on the table as if nothing unusual had happened.
Damon finally broke the silence, his voice sharp. "Okay, explain, what the hell was that thing?"
Vincent leaned back slightly and replied unhurriedly, "That was Lanka. A grade II pet project cooked up by some Duke with too much money and not enough sense. Half-spider, half…well, whatever that mess was supposed to be."
Henry's brow furrowed. "A noble keeps that… thing in the city?"
"Not exactly," Vincent said with a shrug. "The Duke had it hidden in those tunnels, probably as an experiment on specter genetics or maybe just to show off how clever he is with breeding horrors. Either way, it's locked down tight. Or at least it was before I found it."
Damon leaned forward, frustration written on his face. "Then why did you taunt it?"
Unbothered by his tone, Vincent laughed. "If it stays buried, the other nobles can keep pretending it doesn't exist while hiding it from the churches. But if I get Lanka riled up enough, maybe she'll crack those tunnels open on her own. And when she does…" He leaned back further in his chair, eyes glinting. "The city will finally have an excuse to put her down. Permanently."
Henry's heart skipped, though his face remained calm. Damon stared, caught between disbelief and anger.
"You're insane," Damon muttered. "If that thing breaks out, it would cause several casualties before it's killed."
Vincent rose from his seat, gave a low-sounding laugh, and said, "I doubt that; it's likely her movements are always being tracked to prevent that, but it's not something we have to worry about for now."
"A night's rest should completely remove any mental fatigue and ailments. I believe you can understand what that means for you, Damon, but next time compress your spiritual energy before touching anything related to mysticism."