Chương 95: 8 – HEAD HUNTER

German led T'balt down a series of long corridors. The bedrooms were on the second floor of the mansion, all lined up side by side like military barracks. Their room was on the far end, so it was a long walk from there to the elevator. On the way, German's voice filled the air.

"When you see him, do not let your eyes wander. Keep focused on him unless he tells you otherwise. Do not joke. Do not speak in metaphors or sarcasm. Speak when asked and stay on topic." He was counting on his fingers like the words from a list in his mind.

"Jeez, we have to remember all that, just to have a conversation with the guy?" Cannon said. He, Ellie, and Acelin naturally followed behind when T'balt was led out of the room, but they were all struggling to keep up with the pace of German's steps.

"No." German stopped at the elevator.

"Only T'balt. Corlander has granted only him an audience. The rest of you will have to wait here." Of course, that led to a wave of objections from everyone.

"You can't be serious. We all came here together, and we all are asking for his help," said Ellie. Cannon crossed his arms.

"Yeah, that don't feel right, T. He's got no reason to single you out." German stepped between T'balt and the others.

"If I've come to understand things correctly, you all want to leave here quickly and of sound mind, correct?" He didn't wait for a response.

"Then I suggest doing what he asks. Your time here has been pleasant because he's allowed it to be. I bid you not to waste his hospitality. He is a very powerful man."

"No one cares about his money," Ellie spat.

"That kind of power doesn't mean anything here." German stared at her.

"That kind of power… is the least of what I mean." he glanced at Acelin, who had suddenly struck shy, hiding behind Ellie.

"In my experience, when powerful people speak, it's best to be quiet and listen." Ellie took a step back, her face showing a strange sense of discomfort. The elevator door dinged, opening behind them.

"It'll be alright. I'll be right back." T'balt said, stepping inside. But before he and German could leave them, Acelin grabbed him by the arm.

"What is it?"

"Just…" the boy glanced up at German's eye and the black diamond underneath it.

"Never mind. Be careful." He stepped away from the elevator, allowing it to shut them out.

"That was weird," T'balt said.

"What?" asked German.

"He looked scared. I hadn't seen him look scared like that in a while. Not even a demon horde will spook that kid these days. What exactly am I dealing with here?"

"As I've told you, a businessman. But this is the new world, not the old. Remain cautious of that." They arrived on the fifth floor of the mansion. As soon as the door opened, they were greeted with an influx of armed guards, these ones more serious than the ones at the gate. They didn't ask questions. They just started searching, patting down the two of them like they were entering a prison. Though T'balt was smart enough this time to leave his loot back in his room, as little as it was. But there was a problem.

One of them suddenly snatched his choker, causing him to gag. T'balt pulled away.

"The hell is wrong with you?"

"Checking your loot. There's one hidden underneath your choker." These guys were thorough. He'd grant them that, but he typically had it covered for a reason. It was the Redeemer. He instinctively put a hand to cover it. But he made eye contact with German.

"Remember what I said." T'balt let his hand fall, figuring that if this was some kind of trap, he was already caught in it. He didn't have anything to defend himself against these hired guns. They checked under his choker.

"I have no idea what this one is," one said to the other, who was flipping through a small booklet.

"I can't find it."

"That's because it isn't in there," German answered for them, manually closing the book for the guard.

"But it's harmless. A survival loot. He's not capable of attacking anything." T'balt staggered. Did he know, or was that just an educated guess? German had been observing them since they met, but there was no reason he should've known what the Redeemer loot was. Not unless one of the other's told him. But maybe he was overthinking it; the man probably just concluded that since T'balt never used it, it was harmless. The man caught him in his stare and simply raised an eyebrow.

He gestured for T'balt to continue walking. They came upon a large door. The intercom sounded, and the door opened on its own. The first thing T'balt noticed was that the room was dark. Even more dim than the rest of the mansion with its ambient light. It was like entering a theatre when the movie's already started. From what he could see, the place was a library, mahogany shelves of books on all four walls. He could feel a thick, fluffy rug making his steps feel like clouds.

A fireplace was lit on the far side of the room, granting them what little light the room had. And it was cold, near to the point of having frosted breath. T'balt was left to stand in the middle of the room as German took a post near one of the covered windows, hands held behind his back. It felt like ages waiting for Corlander to show up, waiting in silence. But when T'balt looked around the room, he noticed a man sitting in front of the fireplace. He was silent and nearly undetectable, like he was only a shadow.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. T'balt was drawn towards him until a deep, gravelly voice said, "Have a seat." T'balt did so, first taken in the man, as he was lit by firelight. He was aged, likely middle 60s, based on the white in his hair, but his posture didn't show it. It was stiff and yet comfortable in its stiffness, like if the chair under him were moved, he wouldn't budge. He had a fine, chiseled jaw with tanned skin.

There was a scar on the left side of his face, right under the eyebrow. He was casually dressed for a businessman, which meant a fitted turtleneck and something of a cape draped across his chest, fine jewelry near every joint. T'balt sat and looked at the same fire he did. He didn't speak for a while, leaving T'balt to wonder if this was that time tactic he had mentioned before. But the man just looked like he enjoyed breathing in the air around, as if it were some grand event.

When he did speak, he didn't change his expression.

"I hear you're searching for a way inside the Looter's Paradise." T'balt made sure to keep focused on the man's face, per German's instructions.

"Yes, sir." The man nodded.

"A strange undertaking, considering what little information you seem to have had on the place." He paused, gesturing for a response.

"It was a far cry. Honestly, considering what I was working with, it was lucky that we happened to run into German."

"Luck?" Corlander scoffed, shifting in his chair to look at T'balt.

"I don't think it is… From everything that my employee has told me about you, I think I know what kind of person you are. You… are like me."

"Like you?" T'balt mirrored.

"Yes. Back in the old world, I prided myself on being the most prepared person in the room. Everything I did, if it wasn't expressly deliberate, I made it seem like it was. That's how I got as successful as I did. My cars were sold in international markets, and politicians were hoping to make friends with me and not the other way around. My company employed almost a million people. Because I made sure that every time a problem appeared, I was prepared for it. Preparation. It's a wonderful word."

T'balt straightened. He felt his body becoming uncomfortably hot despite the cold of the room. Why was he so nervous? He couldn't place it.

"None of those things I have anymore," Corlander continued.

"They perished when the old world did. All those people… because they weren't prepared to survive it. But I imagine you were. Were you prepared for 'Zero Day', as you called it?" T'balt glanced back at German. The man leaned against a wall, resting his eyes in the dark. T'balt couldn't help but feel offended that so much of their conversations had been reported back to his boss in excruciating detail. He didn't know how much the man knew and what he could afford to hide. So he decided his only choice was the truth.

"At first, not at all. It took me a while to get used to things. But there were people around me who pushed me to get to the point where I can survive easily now." That amused the old man, based on his outward smirk.

"Well, there is more than one kind of preparation. There's the physical." He held out his hand, palm up, which was covered in a white glove.

"Knowledge, tools, people." Then he put his other hand next to it.

"There's also the mental. A conditioning in the brain. This conditioning ensures that when presented with extraordinary circumstances, one doesn't falter. To be prepared to do what it takes to get what we desire most. Now tell me, are you prepared now?" Corlander pointed his finger, almost telling T'balt to say yes.

"I suppose I am."

"See. I, too, am prepared… in both ways, physical and mental. That's why, I believe, God has granted me a certain gift." The man pulled up his sleeve, showing off his surprisingly muscular arm, but what alarmed T'balt was the loot. It was covering it on all sides, with so many that he couldn't process. His eyes could've popped out of his head in disbelief at what he was seeing.

"What is all this? Is that all loot?" he asked. Corlander flexed his fingers, letting the veins bulge under the marks.

"One of these loot stamps is the mark of the Collector. See, where other men are limited to just three before the deterioration comes for them, I have no such limits. My body will never decompose, no matter what I put in it." T'balt stared at the arm.

"A loot that… that…"

"Collects more loot," Corlander finished.

"So you can really use any loot you want with no side effects?" The old man cupped his hand, each one of his fingers being devoured by a different element: fire, water, earth, ice, lightning. He closed his fist for them all to implode in his hand and watched T'balt's jaw drop to the floor.

"That's incredible," T'balt said.

"You think so. To put it frankly, I think it makes me a god." He said the words without any pomp or concern. It was a fact in his mind, just as the sky was blue and rain fell from clouds.

"A demi-god since I was born a man."

"You're not a god." T'balt suddenly said, struck with annoyance.

"No one is. It's loot anyone can get." German took a step forward at the sudden change in tone, but Corlander waved him off.

"I understand your skepticism. But power like this, as far as I know, only one person can have it. And I do. And that puts me above others, whether I want it that way or not. A perilous place, it is. To have the power to shape the world. Everyone naturally becomes afraid of you." The man stood walking away from the fire and into the dark half of the room. T'balt stood.

"How did you get it?"

"The Collector?" he laughed.

"I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours." There wasn't much pretense around it anymore. He clearly knew about the Redeemer, but T'balt was so fixated on the collector loot that he just blurted out his answer anyway.

"I honestly don't know. I know it sounds strange, but I can't remember." Suddenly, T'balt couldn't see the man. He took a step forward and felt a strange presence at his neck. Corlander was behind him somehow, body leaking smoke. He looked to have been ogling the Redeemer loot stamp.

"That may be true. It may not be," he said.

"If it is, can this person inside Graceland remember for you?" He had never thought of that. He still had no clue how he actually became a Redeemer. Not even Monan could tell him, but that didn't mean the other Redeemers didn't know.

"They might be able to."

"So what are you prepared to do to see them?"

"What do you want?"

"A few things." The man started tracing the wood around the room, slowly pacing.

"I am a collector, searching to complete his collection. Until then, I will never feel whole. There are two that I believe you can help me with. The first, you will tell me of once you meet your friend in Graceland." T'balt was skeptical, but if it was a mistake, he didn't have to make it here. He could save it for when he actually got into the city.

"And the other."

"One of our bounties. That'll be your price for getting you inside. It's an S-Grade loot. Get it for me, and I'll give you the key to Graceland."

"What is it?"

"I'm sure you've seen it downstairs. We call it The Wanderer."

"A loot hunt. That should be easy. You've got a deal." German scoffed in the corner.

"Great," Corlander held his hand out to shake. T'balt took it, noticing how light it felt.

"German will go with you."

"You can't be serious!" The man's outburst even caught T'balt by surprise.

"No one returns from that hunt alive. Surely I have more value to you than sending me on—""They'll need your tracking loot and knowledge if they ever hope to find the beast." German chewed his tongue despite there being plenty more he obviously wished to say. Instead, all he said was, "Is this truly your wish?" Corlander nodded, and German left the room.