Chapter 11 Where is the firearm
South boundary of the sewers.
Boots splashed through the murky water as a group of seven men crept through the southern tunnels.
The seven shadows moved like predators through the dark. The walls around them were slick with moss and rust, the stench of feces apparent in the air.
At the front walked Bragg, Meg's lieutenant, a heavyset man with a scar running from his ear to his jaw. His coat was patched with old leather. His breathing muffled beneath a cracked rebreather mask and in his hand, he carried a serrated blade carved from scrap metal, its handle wrapped in cloth soaked dark with age.
"Keep your eyes open," Bragg muttered. "If that old witch's gun ain't in her pipe, then it's with one of her rats."
A smaller man behind him, whose face was smudged with soot then spoke up. "We already stripped her place clean, boss. Found the machete, but that was it. Maybe she dumped the gun somewhere before we got there."
They had indeed torn through Gloria's pipe, overturned every crate and ripped open every ragged curtain.
The only thing they had found was the red stained machete, a few cracked bottles, and scraps of melted metal. But the firearm, the priceless relic from the upper world was gone.
Bragg shot him a glare over his shoulder. "She wouldn't toss it. Gloria ain't the type to let go of what's hers. Someone took it and I'll bet my lungs it's one of her brats."
The group turned down a narrow side passage where the ceiling sagged low. Water dripped steadily from corroded pipes, echoing like a clock.
"Careful," one muttered. "This side leads near the Pits."
The rest went quiet. Even Bragg's steps slowed.
No one liked being near the Rusty Pits.
The Rusty Pits, a stretch of collapsed tunnels said to crawl with rat-things. Mutants that fed on iron and bone. The air there could peel your lungs raw and anyone who ever went there had never come back. This place was the stuff of nightmares for all the vagrants here.
They kept their distance, moving parallel to the Pits, close enough to smell the sour tang of the poison mist that drifted from its vents.
"Boss," said the smallest of them, pointing towards an alcove located at a distance away from them.
"This is the place."
Bragg turned his towards the place that was being pointed at and grinned.
"Good," he said. "Then let's see which rat's hiding inside."
Inside the alcove, Nick was mid-conversation, his voice firm and animated despite the fresh bandages on his arm.
"I'm telling you, Rin, this is the only way forward," he said.
Rin sat on a crate, arms crossed tightly. "And I'm telling you it's stupid. You want to make alliances in the sewers? With who? The same people who'd slit your throat for a piece of bread?"
Nick rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."
"Because you're delusional," Rin shot back. "We should be figuring out how to find Melissa, not chasing your pipe dreams."
Rook stayed silent in the corner, half-listening, half lost in thought.
He knew Rin had a point. Nick's plan sounded reckless, maybe even suicidal. But part of him also saw the sense in it. In a world like this, control wasn't taken by strength alone; it was taken by the one who knew the tunnels better than anyone else. And Nick's idea , to turn the sewers into a network of whispers and watchers wasn't completely insane. If they could build a network like that, maybe they'd finally stop being prey.
Still, Rook wasn't thinking about power right now. His mind drifted back to the item that gave Nick confidence in the plan succeeding — the item that had started all his problems.
Nick had called it a relic of the Upper Sanctum.
The words still echoed in Luke's mind.The Upper Sanctum, that was what the exiles called the continent of the authorities, the place untouched by exile or rot. This was where the privileged true humans lived under clean skies, protected by the Spherites, those self-proclaimed "guardians of purity." They ruled everything: trade, belief, technology. Even the churches down here, long abandoned to the filth, had once prayed to their gods.
And this relic, according to Nick, had once belonged to one of their Sacred temples, the Temple of Saint Astriel. A forbidden artifact that went missing years ago after some great scandal within the clergy.
After the relic vanished. Entire priests' circles were executed for its loss, and the Spherites sealed the case as "an act of divine shame."After some incident, it was stolen and smuggled here into the Netherlands, where it ended up in the Jokers' hands. Rook had managed to steal it — somehow.
No wonder those bastards were furious, he thought grimly.
He was still lost in that thought when he caught the flicker of shadows near the entrance.
He stiffened.
Then came the faint murmur of voices.
Nick's expression shifted instantly. "Shit — they found us."
Before Rin could react, shadows filled the entrance. The flicker of metal glinted in the dark.
Bragg stepped through first, his knife catching what little light there was. His men followed next , fanning out across the alcove.
"Well, well," Bragg drawled, his voice muffled by the mask. "If it ain't Gloria's little pets. Looks like we got lucky tonight."
Nick slowly rose to his feet, his body angled slightly between Bragg and Rin. "Bragg," he said carefully, "this doesn't have to go bad."
Bragg chuckled. "Bad? Oh, it's already bad. You can make it worse if you like. Where's the gun?"
Nick's eyes narrowed slightly. "I don't know where it is," he then said flatly. "None of us do. Gloria never told anyone where she kept it."
Bragg tilted his head, studying him. "You expect me to believe that?"
Nick didn't blink. "Believe whatever you want. But if you came here thinking we've got it, you're wasting your time."
Bragg's tone hardened. "You always were her little lapdog. Maybe I should start cutting pieces off until you remember something."
Rin's breath hitched and she subconsciously shifted behind Rook in order to hide herself.
This action didn't go unnoticed by Bragg.
With a disgusting grin on his face, he then added.
"Or l could have some fun with the girl while you watch, l am sure that will jog your memories a bit. "
Nick didn't answer, he shifted his stance in a defensive posture, his brows raised high.
Bragg's men at this moment spread out, blades glinting as they boxed them in.
Bragg raised his knife toward Nick. "Last chance, boy. Tell me where the gun is."
Nick's jaw tightened. "I told you I don't know."
Bragg's gaze sharpened, his patience thinning. "Then I guess we'll do this the hard way."