Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 6 part 8: The beast's underbelly

Having shed the frayed inconspicuous-looking mantle, a rock-like man started to assert his figure as he stood up from the corner. While his stature was on the short side for a grown man, his sturdily bulging muscles underneath the well-tanned skin more than compensated for that shortcoming, ensuring that only the most foolish of fools would be the ones who dared to mess with him. As he walked toward the black-clad foreigner, he stroked his bushy cream-colored beard contemplatively as if he was sizing up the black-clad outlander.

The air grew thicker and heavier with each resounding step. With bated breath, we could only silently whisper our prayers. Time halted to a stop as those two men calmly kept each other at slightly beyond arm’s length, carefully gauging each other’s intentions and whatnot.

“So, I take it that you’re the one I should escalate this matter toward,” the foreigner lazily broke the silence as he relaxed his grip on his prisoner, “I have high hopes that my requests will be met…”

“Hold on to your high horse there, mister,” the bearded man dismissively interjected, “if you think that you can get away with your antics, then I shall declare that you’re dead wrong for thinking so. And especially regarding those rusty junks, we don’t accept such things here.”

An amused chuckle soon leaked from the black-clad man’s mouth, and shortly after, he left us stumped as he doubled over and cackled out loud. As I stole a glance at the cream-bearded man’s face, he sported an irritated frown as he lightly scratched his balding head, betraying his confusion at the unexpected sight.

“Rusty junk… Kuhahaha… To think that… Hahahaha… Such words can… Pour out of your damn mouth… When you talk about these,” the outlander gradually regained his composure as he wiped the tears that had accumulated in his eyes.

Then what came next left us utterly stumped.

A rambling made in a harsh, almost bestial-like language poured from the man’s mouth. Hard-to-pronounce consonants assaulted the ears of the unfortunate, bringing to mind the image of some dastard spitting into our ears as they gleefully hammered a pointy blade into them. The vowels felt not unlike the pained squeals of slaughtered livestock, stoking a sense of excruciating dread into the listeners’ core. The tone sounded so bizarrely and inhumanly low that even the [Ogres’] infamous roar sounded softer and higher in comparison.

While I desperately blocked my ears from the onslaught of such hideous sounds, I spared a glance toward the poor captive brown robe agent. Because their hands were being restrained by that damn bastard, it was clear that they were wincing in utter agony the longer the black-clad continued his insanity-filled tangents. For a brief moment, I even imagined that tears were shed on their face as they endured the incessant blabbering.

After what we thought was an eternity had passed, the damn outlander stopped his ravings.

After we massaged our sore ears, we exchanged perplexed gazes with each other, unable to comprehend the content and meaning of his utterings.

“Then… Release all the surviving people here and we will talk about your demand.”

A wave of bewildered emotions blanketed us. Confused whispers rustled amongst our ranks at the bearded man’s words of yielding over that damned outlander’s incomprehensible blabbering.

“But boss, that man just killed…”

“Are you trying to defy my words there, miss [Schoen]?”

The manager of this branch, a man named [Khulan Orujov], glared at poor [Anjuta] as she squeezed out her protest.

“Hiii, no boss, I’m not flouting your order, not at all,” the dirty blonde receptionist girl could only shake her head repeatedly as she shrunk away.

“So… What happens here, stays here,” the black-clad bastard then lightly waved his hand as he shooed away the spectators of the bloody spectacle, “anyway, please be careful on your way to your home. You never know what happens though.”

As if on cue, the damned blocked door behind suddenly opened, causing many of us to fall on our backs. The cascade of humans tumbling backward over and spilling onto the ground created a comically unsightly sight.

“Ouch!”

“Argh, get your heavy arse off me, damn it!”

“Stop complaining already, you bastard! Can’t your damn blind eyes see that I’m trying to get off you?”

“Just thinking about having you sitting below me sends chills to my spine! What if you have perverse desires?”

Groans, curses, and complaints streamed from the mouths of the ruffians and staff alike. Of course, I also contributed a chord in that amusing chorus as [Kathy] helped me to get out of the mess.

Soon the members of the [Guild] hurriedly scurried their way toward the other exit, while most of the staff of this facility were allowed to retire early for the night. Mystified questioning soon echoed from upstairs, accompanied by muddled replies that hastily brushed off the inquiries of the building’s guards.

As I looked back one last time before taking the remaining step to the outside world, the three lone figures of the black-clad foreigner, the hand-cuffed, brown-robed stranger, and the boss had a brief conversation before their backs disappeared behind the wooden door.