Chapter 11 – Meat for Secrets
Axel had never been one to shy away from danger. After years of navigating the underbelly of the city, learning to trust no one and trust everyone, he had come to understand one immutable truth: information was the currency of survival. No matter how sharp his blades were or how thick his armor might get, it was the whispers in the dark corners, the idle rumors passed over mugs of sour ale, that truly held the power.
Now, he found himself walking the fringes of the Eternal Slums, the most dangerous and neglected part of the city. This place, a sprawling collection of ramshackle huts, abandoned structures, and makeshift homes, was a scar on the face of the metropolis. Its people lived in constant fear, scraping out whatever they could in the filth and squalor that covered every inch of the district. The buildings here seemed to tilt and sag, like the structures themselves were giving up. The smell of decay, stale bread, and much worse clung to the air.
Axel's boots crunched over a mixture of broken glass and dirt, the sound barely audible beneath the constant hum of distant machinery and the occasional echo of screams. His cloak, ragged but still intact, flowed behind him, and his face was obscured by a dark scarf. The longer he stayed in the Slums, the more he understood the pulse of fear that beat here.
It was a different kind of fear than he'd seen in the higher districts, the fear of losing a reputation, or a business deal gone sour. No, here, it was the kind of fear that came from the sheer desperation of living one more day—fear of gang violence, of the gangs' enforcers, of starvation, of what lived in the shadows of the ruined streets. The people here had been forgotten, abandoned by the city's power structure, and in their desperation, they'd learned how to guard their words.
Axel wasn't here to save them. He was here for information—specific information about the city's power structure, the crime lords who ruled with an iron fist from the unseen corners, and the places that had been abandoned to rot.
He took a deep breath, tasting the air like a hunter testing the wind. There had been rumors, whispers, and mentions of an old condemned bathhouse near the heart of the Slums. No one went near it anymore, not since the disaster that had struck the area years ago, but Axel knew better than to dismiss any lead outright. In his experience, the most obscure places often held the most valuable secrets.
To find answers, he had to first gather whispers.
Axel approached the first shack he could find, an unkempt structure with a sagging roof and a door that looked as though it might collapse with the slightest touch. It stood alone, isolated, like the person living there had made a conscious decision to be forgotten by the world. He knocked once, twice, then waited.
The door creaked open a crack, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes and a hand gripping a rusted knife. Axel didn't flinch.
"Got meat," he said, offering the small bundle wrapped in cloth. It was fresh, cooked, and seasoned—beast meat from the hunting grounds beyond the city. It wasn't much, but to someone in these parts, it was a rare delicacy. "Trade for information."
The eyes darted between Axel and the bundle. Suspicion warred with hunger.
"What kind of information?" the voice from inside asked, gravelly and cautious.
Axel's lips curled into a faint smile. He had learned long ago that the best way to gather secrets was not to ask directly. People rarely gave up valuable information willingly, but they could be persuaded. "Anything you know about the power in the city. The crime lords. The abandoned zones. Places where people don't go."
The door inched open just a little more, and the person on the other side stepped into view—a woman, gaunt and thin, with an expression that spoke of years of mistrust. She eyed Axel as though he were a threat, yet her hand hovered over the meat.
"Meat ain't free, stranger," she muttered. "Don't think I don't know how this works."
Axel tilted his head, watching her closely. The hunger in her eyes was almost palpable. She was trying to calculate how much she could get out of him, what price she could demand. Axel wasn't a fool, but he was also no stranger to the delicate dance of negotiation. He would give her just enough, make her feel like she had the upper hand, but in reality, he knew exactly what he was after.
"Fair enough," Axel replied, his voice even. "I'll give you two portions if you tell me what you know. One for the info, and the second if it's good enough."
Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Smart," she said. Then, after a long pause, her voice dropped to a whisper. "You wanna know about the crime lords?" She glanced around, ensuring no one was listening. "They don't rule this place directly, not anymore. It's the Bathhouse. That's where they hold their meetings, where all the real deals happen."
Axel raised an eyebrow. "The Bathhouse?"
She nodded. "Old, condemned, abandoned by the city. The place is a graveyard. No one goes near it. Not unless you want to disappear."
"Why?"
She looked him over, sizing him up. "You really want to know?"
Axel didn't blink. "I've got more meat. I'm not here to waste your time."
Her lips parted, revealing a cracked tooth as she spoke. "People say the Bathhouse used to be a luxury place, but after the… incident, no one dares go near it. Some say it's cursed, others that the crime lords have it locked down, but I don't believe that. I think they're hiding something. Something real bad."
Axel's mind clicked into place. The Bathhouse. Cursed or not, it was clearly a focal point, a place of power and secrets. If he could figure out what was really going on there, he could get closer to the answers he needed.
He handed her the bundle of meat, as promised, and turned to leave. But before he could take two steps, she called out to him.
"You're brave, stranger, but don't go there," she warned, her voice tinged with real fear. "It's worse than you can imagine. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave this place. The Bathhouse? It's not for the likes of you."
Axel paused for a moment but said nothing. He could feel the weight of her warning in the air, but it only fueled his curiosity more. He had dealt with worse than what this woman was suggesting, and he knew that if there were answers hidden in the shadow of that Bathhouse, he would find them.
The woman didn't follow him as he walked away. Her voice drifted back to him on the wind, muffled by the noise of the Slums, but the words stuck in his mind like a splinter.
"It's worse than you can imagine."
Axel spent the next few hours speaking with a few more locals, but none had much more to offer. The Bathhouse seemed to be the center of every rumor, every whisper of fear. Some spoke of ghostly lights flickering within its crumbling walls. Others claimed to have seen strange figures coming and going at night. But no one would approach it. No one would dare.
As night fell, Axel found himself standing at the edge of the old Bathhouse district. The buildings here were in worse shape than those he had already passed, their stone facades chipped and weathered beyond recognition. A few small fires flickered in the distance, casting shadows over the street, but the Bathhouse itself loomed ahead, its windows dark and empty like hollow eyes.
The place was worse than he had imagined. A sense of dread seemed to cling to the air itself, like a living thing that wrapped around his chest, squeezing tighter the closer he got. There were no sounds here—no voices, no footsteps. The streets had emptied entirely, as if everyone instinctively knew not to linger near this place.
It was the perfect place for something—or someone—to hide.
Axel stood there for a long moment, considering his next move. The air was thick with tension, and despite the ominous warnings from the Slum-dwellers, Axel felt an undeniable pull toward the Bathhouse. Something here could change everything for him.
Despite the eeriness of the district, Axel's instincts told him that if he didn't take this chance, he might never get another. The Bathhouse might be the key to understanding the deeper layers of the city's criminal underworld, the conspiracy that had kept this district mired in darkness for so long.
He walked forward, each step deliberate, as if walking into the belly of the beast. His mind ran through every possible outcome—he could be walking into a trap, or worse, he could be dealing with something far beyond the scope of human violence. He had faced death countless times, but this felt different. This was a place of secrets, and he wasn't sure whether it was a truth he wanted to uncover.
With his hand resting on the hilt of his blade, Axel took his first step forward.
And the shadows seemed to watch him. They followed his every movement, closing in on him, pulling him deeper into the silence of the Bathhouse's forgotten heart.
Every instinct he had screamed at him to turn back, but Axel was no stranger to the unknown. He had never been one to let fear control his actions, especially not now. He was a hunter,