Without delay, Rosacer wrapped his arms around the convulsing body, lifted Dolores, and sprinted toward the nearest hospital.
In the Eastern Sector, he had already encountered many doctors and surgeons, as several of them were employed under Jaka as soldiers. He headed straight for one such facility.
At the entrance, a woman clad in black attire similar to the soldiers stood guard. The moment she caught sight of the badly mangled body in Rosacer's arms, her expression hardened. Without hesitation, she stepped aside and swiftly escorted him inside the building.
"Quick!" she cried, clearing the hallway ahead of him.
A sign bearing a crimson red cross flickered to life as they approached. The door to the adjacent room was flung open, and several nurses rushed out alongside a doctor. Acting with practiced urgency, they brought a stretcher, carefully transferred Dolores onto it, and hurried her down the corridor toward the emergency room at the end of the hall.
Rosacer stood outside the emergency room. The nurses and doctor took her inside, then the door was closed.
"I need to make money." He thought about the bills that would be levied on him. The woman did not look particularly rich or well.
Before leaving the hospital, he told one of the nurses that he would be back soon.
She nodded, already absorbed in the stream of incoming cases.
With that done, Rosacer turned and walked out of the building.
The night air of the Eastern Sector greeted him, heavy with the scent of smoke and damp stone. The crimson cross above the hospital entrance continued to blink behind him, casting intermittent red light across the street.
He planned to move toward the police station, if there was such a place. If not, he would try his luck at the brothels. That, he was sure, existed in this city. If there were any odd jobs available, his best chance would be there. Catching a criminal or delivering something suspicious, he was all for it.
Quickly, using his swift feet, he climbed the nearest building and looked for odd structures. He soon spotted a few. Some were hospitals, marked by crimson crosses with faint white halo-like symbols. Then there were glowing red lips signs. It was evident those belonged to brothels.
"Maybe that's the police station," he said inwardly.
He jumped from building to building, shortening his path.
Soon, he stood in front of the white halo signs, their light fluttering over him.
The building loomed large, built from pale stone that caught the glow of the white halo and reflected it with a chill. Its façade was lined with tall, narrow windows, each secured by iron lattices marked with faint sigils, some glowing softly from within, others dark. At the center stood a broad entrance, framed by weathered pillars and closed off by heavy metal-banded doors, above which a slowly spinning white halo symbol hovered, lending the place an air of quiet authority.
He stepped into the building, the heavy metal door at the central entrance firmly shut. He gave it a push with one hand, but it wouldn't budge. Before he could throw his full strength into it, a man emerged from inside, clad in a long dark coat made of moisture-resistant fabric, adorned with a faintly glowing white halo insignia that radiated authority and control.
"Hey, what are you doing here?!" the man exclaimed from inside.
Rosacer stopped beneath the halo light and raised his hands slightly, just enough to show he carried no immediate threat.
"I am a bounty hunter. I came from the South. I was wondering if the police had some people they wanted caught," he replied, adjusting his posture and tone to fit the role.
There was a pause. The faint scrape of boots echoed from behind the metal gate as the man approached. His eyes studied Rosacer through the bars, lingering on his stance, his breathing, the way his gaze never wavered.
"Come inside," he finally said.
The metal gate groaned as it was unlocked and pulled open. The officer stepped aside, one hand resting near his belt, and made a short gesture for Rosacer to follow.
Rosacer nodded once and passed through the gate. The air inside was colder, heavier, carrying the scent of old documents dust and freshly used ink. The gate slammed shut behind him with a dull clang.
But he didn't turn back. His gaze forward.
They walked in silence down a narrow corridor lit by pale electrical lamps. Their footsteps echoed softly. Rosacer stayed half a step behind, eyes moving, measuring. He noted the officer's broad shoulders, the slight stiffness in his stride, the exhaustion etched deep around his eyes.
There was something empty about him. A familiar hollowness. Far more pronounced than anything Rosacer had seen in the Southern Sector.
'What might be the reason…' he wondered.
They reached a stairwell spiraling upward, its walls lined with old notices and faded seals. As they slowed near the first landing, the officer finally spoke, his voice flat and practiced.
"The notice board is to the right. You can take the picture from it. For submission, any station will accept it." He paused, then added, "But for better payment, it would be best to come back to where you took the bounty from."
With that, he resumed walking, already disengaging, leaving Rosacer standing at the threshold of work that would pay in vials, blood, or both.
With no time to waste.
Rosacer moved to the right, where a massive board was laid out with pictures and information about criminals, their bounty prices written beneath each entry.
He stood before the notice board.
Its contents read:
[Micah Bell: Former cook of the Nightmen turned cannibal. Bounty: 200 vials]
[Katrina Sanguine: Unregistered vampire. Bounty: 5000 vials]
[Ms. Sleep: Drug peddler and serial killer from the Northern Sector. Bounty: 120 vials]
[Marcus Leo: Rogue knight of the North. Bounty: 450 vials]
There were more listings, but most of them carried too little value. Rosacer decided it was better not to even touch their pamphlets.