Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 49: Hostile Takeover

I thought I saw a snowflake when I took off into the night. My thoughts were swimming with what I had to do, how I had to teach this man–or parasite–that the world won’t sit idly by as he consumes everything he can get his greedy little hands on. Most importantly, this had to be done now, because if Garret had been nearly as fast a study as Vance, I might actually have to put effort into this mission. I didn’t want for anything material, but this would also give me the opportunity to make back what I had spent earlier in the day, and maybe free a few helpless slaves while I was at it. Garrett had only been around such a brief moment, even to someone like me, who was the definition of a newcomer. Still, he was getting comfortable, and needed to teach him what a mistake that was, before someone else took things into their hands.

I moved fast, sticking to the alleys, and the edges of lantern light. No Vance this time. He’s learning too quickly and didn’t need the boosts. I wasn’t here to coddle any of them... Besides, I needed to know exactly how much damage I could do on my own.

Two guards were posted near the side entrance of the tannery, barely paying attention. You’d think after he caught me watching, after his previous security was dropped without him knowing, he might be willing to spring for half-competent help. One was chewing something, likely a form of tobacco, or whatever this world had to offer. The other was muttering about debts, a direct link to why he had even accepted this job. Should be easy enough.

[Shadow Dance Activated]

[Mana 60/100]

Darkness folded around me, and I stepped out behind the first one. I also sighed as it was apparent he didn’t even register I was there. My blade slid into his neck, quickly and cleanly. His body slumped, and I caught him, lowering him silently.

[Enemy Defeated x1. Further defeated enemies will be tallied. Experience will be displayed after all threats are neutralized, or after one hour.]

The second one was still yammering off into the darkness, not eleven facing the man. I walk over to him, not bothering to silence my steps, and with a sharp twist of his head, he drops.

[Enemy Defeated x2.]

I exhale through my nose, barely wasting a breath of effort. No alarms. No immediate reinforcements. Good. I slipped further inside.

The tannery stunk the same way it did every other time I visited. The floor looks like it would cause noise, various creeks, and shifts that could create an audible disturbance, so I tread carefully and glide through like a ghost. I hear voices up ahead—three, maybe four men. I don’t need to fight all of them. I just need to make sure they remember tonight and question their leader, something to keep him on his toes and doing right by his crew.

One steps around the corner, and I react before he can. A sharp jab to the throat, a twist of my dagger into the side of his head, and he’s gone in a heartbeat.

[Enemy Defeated x3.]

The others hear the scuffle, or rather the body drop to the floor as I couldn’t be bothered to silence that. This had already proved to be significantly easier than I had expected, and I had low expectations. One lunged, swinging wide with a club. Amateur. I duck, drive my knee into his ribs, and bring my dagger down between his collarbone and neck. He drops with a gurgle.

[Enemy Defeated x4.]

The last two hesitate. They should run. I want them to run. But of course they don’t. One pulls a short sword, stepping back into a stance that tells me he might actually be trained. The other grips a rusted axe, clearly not provided even the most basic gear to help him defend his master. That elicited a grin from me, but not from excitement, just moderate amusement.

"Come on, then." I taunt half-heartedly.

They move at the same time—one slashed, the other feinted to flank me. I twisted away, stepping into the swordsman’s guard before he could adjust. My dagger found his stomach and I pulled it upward, disembowling the best of the two.

[Enemy Defeated x5.]

The last man stumbled, realizing he was alone. I see the moment the fight leaves him, the way his grip on the axe shifts like he’s about to run, but he had his chance and I don’t let him.

One step, one precise strike to the side of his knee, and he’s down. My hand clamps over his mouth as I drag my blade across his throat. I supposed I didn’t have to kill him, but at this point I’m not even strategizing, just letting my hands do the work they have been conditioned to do.

[Enemy Defeated x6.]

I let the silence wash over me. To think he only had four men in the front, and not even men of note either, just bodies to scream in agony and alert Garrett should they fall, and I didn’t even give them that chance.

I take a breath, wipe my dagger clean, and press on. I could leave this place with a dozen copper, and even that would be a hefty reward for the effort I put in so far.

I pass through another door on the far end of the room and stumble upon three more men screwing around with cards, likely gambling their earnings away to pass the time. Why work if you were just going to lose it all?

One of them turns their head to see who had interrupted them, ready to shout an expletive at what was likely the lower-ranked guards charged with handling the front-of-house bullshit. As our eyes meet, I give him a wink and it takes him far too long to connect the dots. The others see his frantic response and begin to turn, but both of my daggers were already sailing through the air. For what I would have to do here, I didn’t need to be armed. Typically one would never disarm themselves voluntarily, but it had been a while before I had to literally get my hands dirty. I rushed forward, and despite my improved dexterity–and I’m talking massively improved–I only managed a few steps before the daggers sank home, causing both targets to slump over the table, their blood gushing out over the backs of their necks and beginning to form a pool around the loose cards on the table.

[Enemy Defeated x8.]

The target of my hand-to-hand combat had thrown himself back, but with nowhere to go but further into his chair, he tumbled backward and slammed his head on the cold, unforgiving stone floor. I leapt over the table and landed with each foot on either side of his head, ready to strike him a killing blow, but I froze, a look of utter disappointment painted my face. He was already dead. He must have struck a soft spot on a much less soft spot on the floor, killing him instantly. Sure, he still twitched and spasmed, but there was nothing behind his eyes. I sighed as I made my way to his companions and pried the daggers out of their brain stems. Wiping them off on their tattered garb, I surveyed the area for the next room.

I moved to the next door, pressing my ear against the worn wood. Muffled voices—at least four, maybe five. More than before, but not enough to make a difference. I pushed it open without hesitation, stepping into what looked like an old storage area, repurposed into another makeshift barracks.

Three men sat on overturned crates, eating what passed for food in this dump. Two more were leaning against the far wall, deep in conversation, oblivious. None of them had noticed me yet.

I weighed my options. I could make this quick, but I wanted them to feel it. Garrett’s men–or rather Garrett himself– needed to understand what it meant to be hunted. I stepped forward, my boots barely making a sound against the dirt-covered, rotted wooden floor.

One of them glanced up. His brow furrowed, confused for a half-second before it clicked. Before he could make a sound, I hurled one of my daggers. It found his throat, burying deep enough that he choked on his own scream.

[Enemy Defeated x7.]

The others scrambled, shoving themselves away from the table, knocking over crates in their panic. One reached for his sword, but I was already moving.

[Shadow Dance Activated.]

[Mana: 22/100]

Darkness pulled me forward, and by the time I reappeared, I was already behind him. My arm wrapped around his neck, wrenching him backward, my dagger slipping beneath his ribs from behind and twisted. He gurgled, clawing at my forearm before collapsing on the floor, writhing in pain, filling the air with his silent screams.

[Enemy Defeated x8.]

The remaining three scattered. One bolted for the exit. The other two fumbled for their weapons. Cowards.

I flicked my wrist, sending my second dagger flying. The runner collapsed mid-step, face-first onto the floor.

[Enemy Defeated x9.]

The last two finally drew their weapons. One had a rusted sword, the other a heavy iron mace. At least they had some fight in them now that I was disarmed.

The swordsman lunged first, going for a wide horizontal slash—predictable. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted hard enough to dislocate his shoulder. His scream barely lasted a second before I knocked him out with a swift blow to his head. My hands felt like iron at this point, and it was likely the same from his perspective. I would let this one live.

The last one hesitated. He shifted his grip on the mace, trying to decide whether to fight or run.

"Make it easy on yourself," I told him, rolling my shoulders.

He chose wrong.

With a roar, he swung. I leaned back, feeling the wind as the mace missed me by inches. Before he could recover, I stepped in, crashing my palm into his nose and driving the cartilage into his brain, finishing him in a single blow.

[Enemy Defeated x10.]

The room fell silent like the last one, and the entrance before that. It was nice to bring a bit of quiet back to this shithole. Blood pooled around my boots, and the air thick was with the scent of iron. I crouched and wiped my hand on the back of his shirt. I think he got some snot on me, which made me question whether or not I would fight hand to hand anymore tonight.

Garrett had to know something was happening by now, at least I hoped he did. I could imagine him shaking in his boots, but we would see soon enough. I straightened, rolling my neck, pried my daggers from the poor fools, and moved to the next door. I figured the blood could stay on them for now, it would add to the spectacle–besides, I was getting new daggers soon.

The next door led to a dimly lit hallway, and the familiar scent of the tannery filled my senses. I preferred the scent of blood, not because I was a bloodthirsty killer, but because this crap smelled awful. I moved through it without hesitation, stepping over the debris strewn about. Garrett’s office wasn’t far. Here I come, boy. Time for some discipline.

I pushed open the final door.

Garrett sat behind a desk, his fingers steepled, trying to look composed. The room was cleaner than the rest of this place—polished wooden floors, a decent rug, and a half-drunk bottle of wine on a small table beside him. He had planned to enjoy his night. How unfortunate.

Two bodyguards flanked him, standing stiff, hands on their weapons. One had a sword, the other a crossbow. Neither looked confident.

Garrett exhaled through his nose. "You’ve been busy."

I didn’t respond. I just stepped forward, slow and deliberate. The tension in the room thickened. The bodyguards exchanged nervous glances.

The crossbow fired, but I had already ducked. The bolt slammed into the wall behind me as I closed the distance. My dagger found his throat, and he dropped with a gurgle.

[Enemy Defeated x11.]

The swordsman hesitated. I couldn’t believe he even skimped on his last line of defense. Typical Garrett. I grabbed the swordsman’s wrist, twisted it, and sent his own blade into his gut. He gasped, eyes wide, before slumping forward.

[Enemy Defeated x12.]

Garrett didn’t move. He had expected this. Maybe he had even accepted it.

I stepped around his desk, grabbed him by the back of the neck, and slammed his face into his desk before shifting my grip to the front of his throat and lifting him off the ground with a single hand before pinning him against the wall behind him. His chair toppled over, wine spilled on the floor, and I thought I heard a crack of his skull.

I tightened my grip just enough to make him struggle. Just enough to remind him exactly how helpless he was.

"I’ll say this once," I growled. "You’re done expanding like this. No more slaves. No more petty deals with the bottom-feeders of this city. If you want real power, you do it the right way."

Garrett’s hands clawed at my wrist. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He reached for a dagger at his side and I began to crush his windpipe and cut off the circulation to his brain. His eyes began to roll into the back of his head as the dagger clambered to the floor. He was either nodding or convulsing, so I lightened my grip and let him speak.

"Yes," he wheezed.

"Yes, you will do as I command from this moment forward?"

"Yes!" he choked.

I leaned in. "I don’t believe you."

I dropped him to the floor and let him gasp for air as I kicked his dagger away. I took his chair and sat down near him, watching the man try to recover. We spent a fair bit of time chatting, or rather, I spent a fair bit of time explaining how he had to behave from now, and how slaves were a useless venture, only serving to bind parasites to malnourished and weak hosts. I hadn’t planned for this part, but it was good to get my thoughts out. I needed a bit of time to restore my mana, having cast shadow dance too many times and no longer using the ability that would ensure his cooperation.

Minutes ticked by and Garrett sat silently in a puddle of his own mess, nodding every time I finished a sentence, whether or not what I said warranted a confirmation. When the time finally came, I double-checked my mana.

[Mana: 50/100]

Perfect.

"So, I take it you agree to all of the conditions?"

"Yes." he rasped, his throat still sore and bruised. His face etched with rage but softened with the swift defeat I had dealt him.

"I still don’t believe you," I sighed, "But that’s fine." I rose from my chair and picked him up by his collar before using my other hand to caress his cheek. "You will learn in time."

[Echoed Will Activated – 50 Mana.]

He twitched. His pupils dilated, his breath hitching. I could feel it, the moment my influence took root inside him. It would have worked from across the city, but being here, watching him crumble under the weight of it—that was the lesson, and it was well worth the wait.

I loosened my grip. He didn’t collapse. He couldn’t. His own body refused to let him. My will was inside him now, wrapping around his thoughts, pressing down on every pathetic instinct that told him to resist.

"Say it," I commanded.

His lips trembled. "I’ll stop."

I tilted my head, considering him. "If I come back and see you’ve disobeyed, I won’t kill you." I let the words sink in before adding, "I’ll make you wish I did."

His whole body shuddered. He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. So I stepped back and gave him space. He wouldn’t fight back. He couldn’t.

I turned toward the door, stepping over the bodies. I could feel my control over him, and it was absolutely delightful. My work here was done, for now.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦