Chapter 142
The Magus that Robs
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"Business? What kind of business, let's hear it," Claude half-barked, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks .
They were playing right into his hands! He hid his beaming smile and marched on .
"Dammit, are you deaf? We told you to f*ck off!" a dark silhouette cried .
It rolled its fists and stepped forward imposingly . Claude had seen his fair share of thugs, however, and the man was on the ground moaning in less than two seconds .
"So tell me, what shenanigans are you snakes up to?" Claude demanded, his foot digging in the poor sod's face .
The other silhouette stepped forward, having only now processed what had happened to its partner, but a glance from Claude stopped it dead in its tracks, then . . .
"Stop, let him go!" the silhouette cried, finally .
"Oh, right, there was another one of you," Claude chirped absentmindedly .
His foot lightened ever so slightly, letting blood flow from the poor sod's head where the rocks of the alleyway had cut . Despite what his head had gone through, the bastard had yet to make a peep, however, so Claude thought he might as well try the other one .
He slammed his foot into the nape of the sod's neck, knocking him out instantly, then turned to the other silhouette . The figure took several steps back in response, and its dagger finally made an appearance .
"D-don't come here . . . I . . . I have a knife . . . "
Claude didn't stop .
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The figure stared at him, and panic finally fully overtook his mind . His dagger flew in Claude's general direction and the figure screamed as it darted off in the opposite direction .
"S-someone! Q-quick! There's . . . there's--"
Its words stopped mid sentence as a Magic Missile hit it right between the shoulder blades and it collapsed limply, skidding about half a metre from the blast .
"Ugh . . . "
The shot had taken a decent chunk out of the whimp's back, just beside the backbone . It had taken the bone down to the marrow with it, however . The man would be a paraplegic if he survived, which was itself still very much uncertain . Blood bubbled from the hole non-stop however, and the poor man was clearly in a world of pain all its own . Claude felt just the teeniest bit sorry for him . He'd intended to strike his thighs, but his aim had been off -- aiming with a bare hand with a ball of light in it was prone to imprecision, after all -- and he'd hit his back instead .
The man was out cold by the time Claude reached him, and so he was sat with two unconscious fools, one of which would likely never wake up again . He sighed, disappointed in his lack of skill which had once again cost him, and searched the two bodies . They didn't have even a full thale between the two, however .
"What the hell? You call yourselves gangsters but you're all barely more than beggars!" Claude spat in a low voice .
His ears perked as a set of hurried footsteps echoed his way . He heard a man's cry and bunch of footsteps behind that . Claude could just barely make out their outlines . They were more a sense of movement than concrete figures . He was quite surprised and impressed they could even tell he was an enemy, in fact .
Then again, he was the only one wearing a mask and a robe . The former might be missed, but the latter would be noticed even if just his barest outline were visible .
It took the figures only a moment to realise what had happened and come charging at him, weapons drawn .
"Bastard! You think you can rob us?!" one of the figures shouted, Claude neither knew nor cared which .
They started their charge about eight metres from Claude; the last one fell still three metres away from the young man .
"Ouch!"
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"Ack!"
"Oooo . . . Ugh!"
Moans suddenly filled the deserted alley as several more figures joined the two already on the ground, these still awake and feeling and giving voice to all all their pain . One of the figures was dead already . It had been in the way of one of the others, and as such had taken the other's missiles in their place . They might survive one, but two, even both on the extremities, were fatal . And Claude wasn't being particularly careful to avoid their vitals either . He only needed one to survive, the rest could die and he'd still be in decent shape .
The final thug, having escaped being struck, lost his nerve and stopped his charge . He didn't remember to run away however, as the cloud cover broke in that moment and cast a ray of monochrome light on his foe . The sight, the dark grey robe, the shawl and mask . . . it drove his mind back to what he'd seen in the gambling den a couple weeks earlier, and his bladder failed him . He collapsed to the ground, a whimpering, slobbering mess .
"Please . . . please don't kill me . . . Lord Magus . . . I . . . I surrender," he managed between the chatters of his teeth .
Claude started casting another Magic Missile, then thought better of it and spared the man .
"You recognise me?" He asked instead, in as deep a voice as he could muster .
The sod nodded vigorously, as if given a new lease on life, though his teeth continued to chatter and his eyes never stopped being fountains .
"Y-you're the Lord Magus . . . P-please forgive m-my offence!" he half-screamed, though in a weak whimper . The sound was most pitiful, and unnerving .
Claude's eyes wandered to his robes, and he finally realised he'd been wearing the same getup every time he'd taken action in his magus persona . He'd not thought a bulletin about him would have gone out to the whole gang already .
"What business does Blacksnake have here?" Claude asked plainly .
The slobbering mess that had once called itself a Blacksnake, sparked another answer, a slight hint of life returning to its eyes . It had finally realised all the encounters must have been just their bad luck in crossing the magus, he was not really out to get them . Or so he desperately prayed, like he'd never prayed before .
"L-lord Magus . . . Our right-hand came here to negotiate the purchase of shares in the seven taverns by the docks with Shark . "
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"Negotiate?--" Something weird was going on . "--You're negotiating with Shark? You're not messing with me, are you? Their base is here? I thought they operated around the docks . "
"I speak no wrong word, Lord Magus . You might not know it, but the acting commander of Shark, Jerad, lives here . He comes back here every night . Our right-hand decided to corner him here and force him to hand over the seven taverns . "
"That doesn't sound right . . . Didn't you all agree to a truce? Your boss even promised Town Hall he'd not trouble Shark . "
"Uhm . . . Lord Magus, it's the middle of the 2nd month but the convoy isn't back yet, and we've heard they won't be coming back at all . Blacksnake has voided the truce given this information . As for his promise, with the official witnesses no longer in Town Hall, he isn't bound by his oath . "
Claude smiled bitterly . He didn't think his father and his friends had been the ones keeping Blacksnake in check .
"We're the biggest gang in Whitestag now, especially with all the top members of Shark gone with the convoy . On top of that our boss is a bandsman in the garrison . Our right-hand's decided Shark should pack up and leave town . The town belongs to us now . "
So they were making their moves now, huh? He supposed the martial law had its upsides . If not for it, the town might have had an all-out gang war on its hands .
"You have money, yes?" Claude asked suddenly .
"Uhh . . . Yes," the sod nodded .
"How much?"
The sod's money pouch made an poor appearance, and it counted the coins inside .
" . . . A thale and three riyas . "
The money pouch vanished from the sod's hands and reappeared in Claudes . He pointed at the sod's three unconscious companions .
"Get their money pouches as well, and any loose change they might have on them . I'll show you hell if you try to hide any of it . "
"W-what do you want?" the sod asked, perturbed even more by his tormentor's sudden change in attitude .
"Get to it or you'll end up just like them . Didn't you accuse me of robbing when you came over? Since you're accusing me of it, I might as well earn the accusation . I'll rob you properly . If you work quickly, though, I will not put you down as well . "
The sod crawled over to his companions like he was being chased by a lion, but he refused to stand up, afraid his tormentor might just decide he didn't like it and put a projectile through his chest . He crawled back thirty seconds later, three pouches in hand . They had felt rudely empty in his hands, so he'd taken the liberty of adding one of his companions' rings .
One of the poor sods, half his mind starting to work again, started to fight back, but the first sod gave him a good slap .
"Idiot! I'm trying to save your life!"
He offered the pouches the same as he would an offering to the war god, but they weren't taken .
"Empty them into one sack, then count them and tell me how much you have," he heard his tormentor's deep voice order . He felt something sail by his head, and caught a glimpse of the blade-side of an axe, twirled by a vile hand . He swallowed involuntarily, then quickly did as he was told .
"T-two thales, four riyas, seven sunars, three fennies, and six pennies . . . "
"You all really are nothing more than beggars! Do you walk around with empty pouches all day long?" his tormentor cursed .
The sod wanted to explain they never really needed money, they just took what they wanted, but he didn't open his mouth without being told to speak . They'd probably really walk around without so much as a fenny on them if they didn't have the habit of gambling and betting .
"That one over there has a ring as well . Go get it . "
He turned around to look in the direction his tormentor had pointed, though he was certain he'd taken the only ring any of them had, then he felt a pain at the back of his head, and the world went truly black .
"Shi . . . "