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Chapter 5 - NO WITNESSES

Zemin stood frozen in place, his breath hitching in his throat. His eyes struggled to process the scene before him a man's body contorting, skin ripping and reshaping into striped fur, his face morphing into the fierce visage of a tiger. The man's roar echoed through the narrow alley, sending cigarette butts and glass bottles skittering across the pavement.

What should I do?

Run?

Stay?

Act like I didn't see anything?

Thoughts crashed together in Zemin's mind, each option feeling worse than the last. If he bolted, he'd seem weak. If he lingered, he might get pulled into something he couldn't comprehend. And if he pretended it was nothing, would they suspect him?

His heart raced, but his expression remained impassive, just as a memory whispered in his mind.

Zemin never flinches.

The tiger-man snarled, shoving a bystander against the wall. "The drugs! Hand over the drugs!" Foam dripped from his jaw, his voice a guttural growl, yet still human enough to grasp.

Zemin gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet the beast's gaze without blinking. Inside, he felt utterly shaken. 

What on earth is this place…? People turning into monsters? And everyone else just acts like it's perfectly normal…

Zemin took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as he casually slipped his hands into his pockets. He relaxed his shoulders, mimicking the loose swagger of the gangsters from his memories. If it meant staying alive, he was ready to embrace that persona.

"Yo," he said with a slight nod to a couple of guys smoking by the entrance. They gave him a lazy glance before returning to their cigarettes. No suspicion there. That was a relief.

He moved further into the alley, matching the vibe of the place slow steps, indifferent expressions as if he'd walked this path a hundred times. The laughter, the curses, the sound of fists hitting flesh all swirled around him, creating a chaotic backdrop he felt he was meant to be part of.

But then, the roar hit him again.

The tiger-man had someone pinned against the wall, his fur standing on end, claws scraping against the brick. "The drugs! I need them! You think I can survive without them in this city?!" His voice was raw with desperation, his animalistic form twitching as if it were tearing him apart from within.

Zemin's stomach twisted, but he ducked behind a wall, pressing his ear closer. His instincts screamed for him to flee, yet his curiosity held him captive.

Drugs? What kind of drugs could turn someone into… that? And what did he mean by living peacefully?

The tiger-man slammed his fist into the wall, leaving deep claw marks in the stone. His breathing was heavy, punctuated by growls. "Without it, I'll lose everything! You think I wanted to be like this?! Just give me the damn pills!"

Zemin remained hidden in the shadows, his mind racing. Pills? Drugs? Is that what keeps these… creatures… in check? And if that's the case… how many of them are out there, lurking in the city like this?

Zemin pressed his back firmly against the wall, the smoky haze from the cigarette stinging his eyes as he strained to catch every word.

One of the sellers, a tall guy with greasy hair and a flashy gold chain, leaned in closer to the tiger-man. "The pill knocked him out quick. You'll probably need another hit."

The tiger-man's face contorted, a bizarre mix of feline and human features. "Then give it to me! I can't—I can't hold this form without it!" His claws dug into his own arms, tearing shallow gashes into his furred skin.

A second seller shorter, with a scar slicing across his mouth—spat on the ground. "Tch. Production's been slowing down… ever since that incident with, you know…"

The first seller shot him a sharp glare. "Yeah, I know."

The scarred man jerked his thumb at the tiger-man, who was now shaking uncontrollably. "So what do we do with this asshole then?"

The tall one smirked, his teeth glinting in the dim alley light. "Simple. We make money outta him."

For a brief moment, confusion flickered in the tiger-man's eyes. His breathing slowed, as if he dared to hope. "Wait… what do you mean by—"

The crack of a gunshot shattered the air. Blood splattered against the wall, dark and steaming in the night. The tiger-man's body crumpled to the ground, twitching once before going still. Smoke curled from the barrel of the tall seller's pistol as he casually tucked it back into his coat.

Zemin froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He had seen death before but this felt different. Cold. Calculated.

The scarred seller chuckled, nudging the lifeless body with his boot. "Guess one less customer means we gotta squeeze the rest harder."

The tall one exhaled, as if nothing had happened. "Yeah. Supply's low. Demand's high. That means profit. Now bag him up before someone spots us."

Zemin remained hidden in the shadows, fists clenched, his mind racing. What the hell did I just walk into? And what was that "incident"…?

"That's enough," Zemin muttered quietly, stepping away from the wall. "It's brief, but Mrs. Shuren… might have the rest of the story."

He turned, making sure to tread lightly.

CRACK.

His foot landed on a shard of glass, the sound slicing through the murmur of voices in the alley.

The sellers froze.

"…Did you all hear that?" the scarred one asked, squinting suspiciously.

The tall man lifted his gun again, his face a mask of unreadable tension. "Over there. Go check it out."

Zemin's heart raced. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to flee, to disappear into the night. But when he tried to move, nothing happened. His legs felt like they were made of stone. His body wouldn't cooperate.

Instead, he remained anchored in the shadows, waiting and watching.

Why can't I move?

Footsteps crunched closer. The flickering light from a streetlamp swept across the alley, threatening to reveal him at any moment. Zemin's hands balled into fists, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The fear clawed at his chest, but on the outside, he was motionless. Too motionless. Almost intentional.

It wasn't what he meant to convey, but to the approaching sellers, he appeared less like a terrified prey… and more like a predator lying in wait.

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