The room was silent except for the faint crackling of torches along the walls. Feste sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, his back facing Spear. The old man's hand pressed firmly against his, warmth radiating into his body.
"From here on," Spear said, his voice low but steady, "we begin your training. First you will feel what Qi truly is. I will lend you some of mine."
Suddenly, a sharp rushed through him. Spear's Qi flowed into his like a torrent of fire and ice at the same. Feste's entire frame convulsed, his eyes flashing for a split second with a strange glow before returning to normal.
Spear withdrew his hand slightly.
"Well? Did you feel it?"
Feste shook his head, his voice hoarse.
"No, nothing.
Except... my body feels like it's drained, as if i've already fought a hundred battles"
Spear frowned.
His brow furrowed in thought.
Strange. Even the weakest of them feel something the first time. Why not him?
He pressed harder this time. The air shook with invisible pressure. Objects around the room rattled and toppled as the Qi release intensified. Feste gasped as his chest tightened, then suddenly, his heartbeat stopped. His body went limp, collapsing forward.
"Damn it!" Spear eyes widened. Without hesitation, he pressed both palms against Feste's chest and forced Qi into him rhythmically, as if life itsel back into his heart.
One second.
Two.
Three
Feste's body jerked and he gasped for air, coughing violently before his eyes shot open.
"... And when does this end?" He whispered weakly.
"End?" Spear repeated, his voice caught between disbelief and anger.
Feste slowly stood up, swaying on his feet. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so.
"Thank you.
Finally...
I've gotten a feeling.
A real one"
Spear just stared at him. His mind spun.
What did he just experience? What did he touch in those second of death?
Feste met his gaze with an odd clarity in his eyes. Then he smiled faintly. "Let's go.
The others are waiting."
The corridor outside was buzzing. Voice's overlapped, tense and sharp, echoing down the stone walls. As Fesge and Spear approached, the murmurs became clearer, pinic disguised as discussion.
Derrick, the scarred man, was the first to notice them. He snapped to attention, his Single good eye narrowing.
"Boss," he said, his tone grave.
"He struck again."
Spear's face hardened.
"Show me."
Derrick hesitated, then added, "He left a message this time... for us. It said: "I know you're watching me":
The words sank into the room like lead. For a moment, no one dared to breath. The temperature seemed to drop, silence heavier than stone.
"... Did you bring the body?" Spear finally asked.
"Yes sir. In the cold room"
They walked together, footsteps echoing through the narrow passage. Feste followedy his stomach churning. He didn't know to except, but a knot of dread twisted inside him.
When the door creaked open, cold air washed over them. A body, a women, lay on the table. Covered, at first. Then the sheet was pulled back.
Feste's vision blurred for a second. His stomach flipped. He staggered forward, unable to stop himself, then doubled over vonmiting onto the stone floor.
The corpses was split open, the lower half butchered mercilessly, carved like meat on display.
"What kind of monster..." Feste's voice cracked between disgust and rage. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, trembling. "... could do this?"
Spear's gaze was fixed on the remains. His tome was steady, but the weight in it was undeniable.
"We've given him a name.
The Ripper."
The words lingered in the air.
Feste clenched his fists.
The Ripper... a man who toys with human lives, who wirtes taunts in blood... this city feels cursed. But why do I feel as if i'm being dragged deeper into it, as if I have no choice but to follow?
The body was covered again, the room failing into silence. Spear truned, his expression unreadable, thought his eyes carried the weight of command.
"We can't chase shadows," he said firmly.
"From tonight on, we act the structure. No more waiting. No more reacting."
The others straightened. Derrick gave a curt nod.
"What's the plan Boss?"
Spear glanced around at the gathered faces. "Pairs. Always in paris. The Ripper thrives in the dark, so we'll share it with him. Derrick, you'll take Feste. The rest of you cover the western district. I want consant eyes on the streets"
Feste's hear skipped.
"Me? With Derrick?"
He looked at the scarred man, who simply tightened his glove, saying nothing.
Spear's gaze settled on him. "You're new, Feste. Stick with Derrick. Listen more than you talk.
And when the time comes...
don't freeze."
Feste swallowed hard. He wanted to respond, to assure Spear that he wouldn't falter but words caught in his throat.
That night, the city felt different. Quieter. As if it knew the monsters were stalking the streets. Derrick and Feste walked side by side through the narrow alleys, torches bruning faintly against the fog.
"Stay sharp," Derrick muttered. "He won't stop. He enjoys this.
And that's the mos dangerous kind of enemy."
Feste nodded, trying to match his calm stride, though his chest felt tight. Each sound rustling cloth, clattering shutters, a dog barking in the distance made his nerves spike.
Then...
A scream.
Sharp, tearing through the night like glass shattering.
A woman's scream.
Both ran instantly, boots hammering against stone. The Sound echoed, desperate, then cut off too soon.
They turned a corner, breath burning in their lungs
And frozen.
The woman lay lifeless on the cobblestones. Too late. Again.
Feste's knees weakened, his eyes darted around, shadows, walls, alleys anything. But he saw no figure, no fleeing silhouette.
Then his gaze landed on the wall.
Wirtten im blood, smeared yet deliberate was sentence.
A riddle.
"Count the days of silence and you will find my stage."
Derrick's face twisted.
"The bastard paying with us..."