"Boss, here in Bilgewater, you have to show strength, show ferocity. Keep your weapon in plain sight, and always keep a menacing look in your eyes. Otherwise, the thugs around here will swarm you like ravenous sharkdogs in the sewer!"
Graves' voice was gruff, a cigar clenched in his teeth as he held onto his beloved double-barreled shotgun, Destiny. Until Duke crafted him a new one, there was no way he'd part with it.
Even if, according to Duke, it wasn't worth a single copper.
Duke walked ahead with his hands in his pockets, unbothered by Graves' rambling behind him. Unlike last time, no one dared cast greedy eyes on them. Having Graves around was enough deterrent.
"I'm a scientist, not some bloodthirsty thug. Why would I need to act like that? Besides, aren't you more than enough protection for me?"
Duke could feel Graves' thoughts and emotions, and the moment he said that, Graves' pride flared. But beneath that pride was pure disdain, thoughts that Duke easily picked up on:
"This kid dares to call himself a scientist?"
"I've never met a scientist who could beat me in a fight!"
"Still, until I get my gun, I'm sticking close. Once it's done, I'll go settle the score with that bastard Twisted Fate."
"For now, I'll just humor the little brat."
...
As Duke continued to sense Graves' inner thoughts, he also gained new insight into his magical affinity. Beyond granting life to the inanimate, he could use his magic to influence the living.
"If I can sense a living being through magic... can I control them too?"
The thought was impossible to ignore once it took root.
"Should I try it on this fool?"
Just then, a group of heavily tattooed, broad-shouldered women passed by. Duke glanced at them, based on their tattoos, they were followers of the Serpent Mother, likely temple guardians.
Snap!
He casually snapped his fingers.
Graves instinctively let out a whistle toward the women, only to immediately regret it. The warriors turned with hostile glares. A few, however, raised their eyebrows and gave him suggestive looks.
Graves' rugged build and thick beard apparently ticked all the boxes for traditional Bilgewater women.
Graves' face turned green as he awkwardly laughed, shrinking back behind Duke. He couldn't understand why he'd even done that.
"Damn it, this has to be Twisted Fate's fault. If he hadn't betrayed me, I wouldn't be in this sorry state!"
Completely oblivious to Duke's amused expression, Graves didn't notice him pull his hand from his pocket and study his palm, grinning smugly.
They wandered through Bilgewater, stopping often as Duke picked up various local specialties. After about half an hour, they finally reached the main harbor.
Every ship, regardless of purpose, trade, rest, supply, would dock here.
"Boss, what're we doing here?"
Graves puffed a cloud of smoke as he spoke. Duke rolled his eyes.
"I'm looking for the ship that brought me here. The guy I left behind should take me to the hotel. Unless you want me crafting your gun in your filthy little hovel, missing screws and stripped bolts."
"Please, no!" Graves chuckled awkwardly. He wasn't letting Duke out of his sight until he had his new weapon.
Unless Twisted Fate showed up, that would be a different story.
Duke scanned the ships in port, sizing up their make and origin.
"Noxian ironclads, with their signature axe-blade bows."
"Demacian merchant vessels... do Bilgewater folks even afford their weapons?"
"Ixtal ships, bursting with greenery."
"Oh? An Ionian vessel, complete with Vastaya sailors."
He looked more closely at the Ionian ship, noting sailors hauling cargo and arguing officers on the dock.
"Vastaya are fascinating. Part human, part beast... huh, is that a chameleon with a flower growing from its head on the mast?"
Duke stopped, squinting up at the mast. Putting on Edith (his enhanced goggles), he zoomed in.
A blue-scaled tail wrapped around the mast for balance, while two brightly colored arms clutched it firmly. Magical light shimmered from her fingertips.
She had short, violet-blue hair with outward flicks, flowers clipped behind her ears that looked... alive. Her head bore glowing, multicolored filaments like antennae, radiating magical energy.
In a word, mesmerizing.
Her wide, amber eyes glistened with curiosity. Painted cheeks, glistening lips possibly smeared with flower nectar, her entire appearance was magical and wild.
Her skin bore tribal patterns and scales, a seamless blend of human and animal. She wore a tanned leather top and tight leggings woven from green vines.
"Boss?"
Graves noticed Duke standing frozen, sunglasses hiding his dazed stare. He followed his gaze to the Ionian ship and grinned.
"First time seeing a Vastaya? They go for a fortune on the black market here. Each one's worth a pile of gold krakens."
Graves figured Duke was curious, so he didn't rush him. Instead, he scanned for potential targets.
One particular ship caught his eye: steel and wood interwoven, a sharp prow designed to cut through the waves, and a long, sleek hull. The sails bore Piltover's emblem and a swordfish crest overlaid with gears.
The crew openly carried high-quality weapons, clearly well-funded.
"Piltover ship. These guys are loaded."
Duke paid no mind. His attention was still locked on the girl with blue-purple hair. His mind raced through every bit of lore he knew.
And then, a strange urge bloomed in his chest.
For the first time ever, he wanted to raise someone, to protect them. He pictured her laughing and running through lavender fields in Blue Violet Manor after his research sessions.
Caitlyn? Vi? Jinx? Miss Fortune? Camille? Elise?
None of them compared to the girl before him.
Jinx? Cute? More like trouble incarnate.
Mmm... though if Kai'Sa showed up too, that'd be even better. Strong, independent... if only she'd escaped the Void.
For once, Duke was caught in daydreams. The girl's cuteness had completely disarmed him.
She was the last of the Oovi-Kat tribe, the curious chameleon shaman:
Neeko, the Curious Chameleon.
Duke remembered the iconic moment, Neeko standing in a valley, shouting her name:
Neeko, Neeko, Neeeee,
AWSL!!
"Boss!"
Graves tapped his shoulder, snapping Duke back to reality.
"We should get going, remember? You were looking for your ship."
"Right, right..."
"And I found a fat target. Rich as hell. Want in? 50-50 split after we're done."
Graves grinned like a true scoundrel. Duke glanced at him sideways.
"You mean that ship?"
Graves pointed confidently. "That one. Definitely loaded. Piltover folks have money pouring out their ears."
Duke gave him the look you'd give an idiot.
He casually waved toward the Swordfish, and one of the crew, who had been watching vigilantly, immediately ran over.
"Mr. Duke, how may we assist you?"
End of chapter...
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