Chapter 17: Plumed Serpent
The air in the abandoned warehouse crackled with heat, smelling of ozone and something faintly reptilian. Nick and Hank were cautiously approaching a fire-dancing performer, a Dämonfeuer, who was at the center of a new case. She was a beautiful, enigmatic woman, but her performances were becoming increasingly dangerous, fueled by an obsessed admirer who was pushing her to unleash her full, destructive power.
Adam, perched on a precarious beam high above the warehouse floor, grimaced. "You know, Ciri, I always thought fire-breathing was just for dragons and bad circus acts. Turns out, it's also for emotionally unstable Wesen with stalkers. The universe truly has a flair for the dramatic."
[ New Wesen Type Discovered: Dämonfeuer. Information added to Library. ]
[ Wesen Behavior: Elemental Manipulation, Obsession. Threat Level: Moderate. ]
Ciri, ever pragmatic, merely scoffed. "Obsession is a weakness. It clouds judgment. This admirer needs to be dealt with."
"Agreed," Adam said, scrolling through the newly updated Library entry. "And this Dämonfeuer? She's got potential. Like a raw, untamed force of nature. It'd be a shame to see her fall victim to some creepy fanboy. Besides, elemental powers? That's new. I wonder if my System can learn to do that. Fireball, anyone?"
Their investigation, a blend of Adam's meta-knowledge and Ciri's sharp tracking skills, led them to the admirer's hidden lair, a cramped, cluttered apartment filled with disturbing shrines to the Dämonfeuer. The admirer, a human, was clearly unhinged, driven by a dangerous obsession.
"Alright, Ciri," Adam whispered, observing the admirer from a darkened alleyway. "Here's the plan. We stop the stalker. We protect the fire dancer. And then, acid. Lots of acid. For the stalker. Because, frankly, some obsessions just need to be dissolved."
They moved swiftly, Adam's enhanced senses easily cutting through the admirer's pathetic attempts at concealment. They found him preparing to kidnap the Dämonfeuer, a desperate, pathetic glint in his eyes.
"Hey, Fatal Attraction!" Adam called out, stepping into the dim light. "Your fan club membership has been revoked. And your restraining order just got upgraded to 'permanent disappearance.'"
The admirer shrieked, lunging at them with a rusty knife. Adam merely blinked, unaffected. He'd even popped a Tawny Owl potion for enhanced stamina, just to be extra efficient. His eyes, for a brief, terrifying moment, turned completely black, reflecting the admirer's startled face.
The admirer, used to his victims cowering, stumbled back, a whimper escaping his throat. This wasn't right. This human… his eyes were the void. It was unnatural. It was terrifying.
Ciri, seizing the moment of hesitation, moved. Her silver sword was a blur, disarming the admirer with a precise flick of her wrist. Adam followed up with a powerful, non-lethal strike, knocking the human unconscious.
"Well, that was easier than expected," Adam mused, pulling out his Acid of Dissolution. "Guess he wasn't expecting the 'black-eyed, sarcasm-slinging Witcher' approach." He then proceeded to dissolve the body. "See, Ciri? Less talk, more acid. That's efficiency."
[ Kill Count: 1 Human. Level Up! Current Level: 5. Kills to Level 6: 32. ]
"Still Level 5, but progress!" Adam exclaimed. "This is like a side quest, but with more dissolving. And speaking of dissolving, I'm pretty sure I saw a Maurits in the news. Rat people. Next up, pest control, supernatural edition." He paused, then looked at Ciri. "Hey, you know, this whole 'stalking' thing? It's like a really creepy fanfic. You ever try to explain fanfic to someone who only understands 'hit them until they tell the truth'?"
Ciri stared at him, her brow furrowing. "Fan… fic? What is this 'fan fic' you speak of? Is it a new type of torture?"
Adam sighed dramatically. "Oh, Ciri. We have so much to discuss. It's a long, complicated conversation. Involving obsessive creativity, questionable shipping, and a lot of therapy. But for now, let's just say it's why some people are so… intense." He grinned. "Now, about those rat people…"
Nick, meanwhile, with Monroe's help, managed to protect the Dämonfeuer from her obsessed admirer. He found the admirer's lair, empty save for a lingering scent of fear and a faint, acrid smell. Another mysterious intervention. Nick felt a growing sense of gratitude, mixed with a healthy dose of unease. Who were these people? And why did they keep cleaning up his messes before he even got there?
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