The silence hung in the air for a long time, the only sounds that permeated around us was the silent blazing of torches and disgruntled mumbles among the people of Clifton. One of the people lurking within the crowd—a pitchfork in hand—stepped forward. He had a broad forehead, no hair on his head, and had an almost solemn and refined appearance highly contrastant with the others around him.

  "You stole our livestock," He said in a low voice, clarifying the truth everyone around him knew already.

  Paxton, who stood in the front, ushered the children to stand behind him and nodded. "It was a necessity. We didn't intend to harm anyone in the process."

  "Tell that to the chickens over there." The bald man pointed to a house to his left. Beside the house was a small garden fenced off with wooden planks. In between each wooden plank was a thin string of sharp wire.

  In the garden, Paxton noticed the pure-white snow had been stained red. Countless feathers and small body parts had been scattered across the garden, giving the entire space a grizzly and morbid appearance. Only one hen remained; it was hustled inside the small hen-house, shaking as it 'bok-boked' to itself.

  Seeing this, Paxton stepped forward. He recalled the entire raid in palpable detail. Their operation had been simple at most. Intimidate the villagers of Clifton, steal their large livestock and leave. Among all of the preparations, analyses and pre-planning commenced within the village, none of the operations correlated to chickens in any way, shape, or form.

  Paxton looked back at the people gathered among the wagons, looking specifically to his company. "If you stole or mutilated any of the hens here, step forward."

  He waited for a few short moments, almost patiently as he scanned the crowd with furrowed brows. Among the people clustered together for warmth, none of them moved a muscle. At that moment, Paxton realized his tone and diction had been too intimidating.

  "I promise no harm shall come to you if you confess."

  Even as those words diffused into the chilly word, the people remained in their static positions. Though, some mumbling had begun to bubble up like gradually heating broth. After a few minutes, someone pushed aside a few people and stepped before Paxton. It was a girl, about twelve or thirteen years old. Her hair was light-colored, and freckles peppered her cheeks. Her eyes were wide and emerald in hue.

  The girl nervously reached into her pocket, taking out an object—a round object of a white color. The girl and Paxton both turned away from the crowd, sparking more mumblings and musings among them. Paxton's eyes widened upon seeing what the object was: an egg. This girl had stolen an egg, maybe even a chicken entirely!

  "Where did you get this?" Paxton snarled, snatching the egg from the girl's hands.

  "D-during the raid, we were instructed to steal livestock, right? I thought that'd have meant hens and eggs too!"

  Immediately after his explanation, he felt a cold, bitter slap grace her cheek. It stung her skin, leaving a puffy and red outline of Paxton's calloused palm. She fell silent, gaze drifting down to the snow below her as she took a deep breath. Moisture had already accumulated in the corners of her eyes; she was already close to tears.

  "Now, where's the chicken you talked about?"

  "I-I never stole a chicken!—" Another slap barraged her other cheek. Now, both halves of her face matched, exhibited by the identical slap-marks.

  "You know we don't like liars, right?" Paxton's lips twitched up a millimeter. He refused to show any emotions adjacent to enjoyment or amusement in this current situation, but it was something he could hide on the inside.

  "I swear!"

  Before Paxton could slap her again, his hand froze mid-air. A hand had grabbed his wrist behind—my hand. I gritted my teeth, trying my hardest to pull back Paxton's hand so no more harm would come to this girl. Paxton immediately turned around, eyes widening upon seeing me.

  "Let go of me, now!" He demanded.

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  As he spoke, my hand had already begun to rattle slightly. Every word that came out of his mouth, shook his arm more and more. He swiftly extended his other calloused hand, the cold skin latching on top of mine. Paxton immediately began to squeeze down hard, trying without a moment to waste to cut off my blood flow—maybe even break a few fingers.

  I gritted my teeth, looking past Paxton to the white-haired girl. "Get away from him, now!"

  "That's a dirty thief, a thief you're letting leave just like that?" Paxton unexpectedly lowered his head, his teeth sinking into the skin of palm. He dug deeper and deeper into the pale skin of my palm, digging in deep enough to bring up blood—blood that soaked his teeth and trailed down the corners of his lips. I continued to hold him back nonetheless.

  With a surge of effort and strength, I extended my foot, landing a precise hit right to Paxton's testicles. He let out a cry of pain at this, stepping back and gripping his jewels. I didn't slow my assault, punching Paxton in the lower chin, sending him back into the snow. He landed on his back, his hands still cupping his balls.

  "Y-you—you little shit!" He sputtered out, breathless as he writhed around.

  When he insulted me, I watched a few teeth fly from his mouth, landing in the snow; it seems my punch had actually done some damage.

  I looked down at my fists, noticing how my knuckles had darkened, bruising slightly at the tips where the joints began. The four identical lumps were dyed a dark purple. It also hurt like hell; my hands trembled uncontrollably. I looked back at Paxton, my expression remaining neutral.

  "I didn't want to do that, but you left me no choice. It's pretty obvious no one stole the chickens... but..."

  I looked back at the pen, my eyes moving among the spots of blood like a snake. There were scattered feet, feathers, and even a few beaks.

  "Something else happened to these chickens, something I... can't exactly describe."

  Kael emerged from the crowd, Elizabeth standing beside him cradling her infant son. "Well, Silas, how about we run an investigation tonight?"

  I nodded. "I'd like that."

  Kael suddenly turned to look at Paxton, who had begun to recover from the blow to his testicles. He stood up, trembling slightly as he spat dark-colored blood into the ground. "You're sayin' that girl didn't steal them?"

  "Indeed. Now, me and you have a little business to attend to."

  Paxton's eyes widened the moment ink-black tendrils emerged from Kael's fingertips, ensnaring him and lifting him into the air.

  "Cosette, Crylla, come."

  He didn't say my name. Why? Curious, I stepped forward and walked beside him. "What are you gonna do with him, and why aren't I coming?"

  Kael sighed under his breath. "These are matters for higher-ups. In the meantime, see if you can get our Seraphis rogues settled here."

  "Alright." Despite my hesitance and unease, I looked back at the crowd of people. They all remained motionless, yet they had begun to chat amongst each other.

  I took a few steps forward, parting through the people of Clifton and making my way to the front of the assembly. Raising both arms, I announced.

  "Those coming from Seraphis Kingdom, release the livestock you've held captive. Those from Clifton, I expect cooperation."

  I winced after completing my sentence. Initially, I expected a few people to question my identity and status, as they'd never take orders from a teenage boy. But unexpectedly, they all seemed to listen. The Seraphis rogues stepped to the shackled horses and cattle, loosening their bindings and handing them off to the people of Clifton.

  I watched as the old man was carried out of the wagon. He was carried by the people of Clifton to the nearest medical office, a comfortable-looking building, much like the others in this small town. After everyone got settled, I mused to myself.

  "That went better than expected."

  ...

  "Monsour departed in the late afternoon, and we're now making more arrangements." Perola, clad in casual attire, said with a smile.

  She stepped over to the counter of the rented room, carrying the tray of tea back to the table. Sitting opposite to her were Losalzo, Shinso, Francis, Fatima, and Felonious. Losalzo bore his usual stern look, while Felonious silently fiddled with the cuffs of his garments.

  "That's good to hear," Losalzo spoke up.

  "Now, our next order of business." Perola took a cup of tea, the blood-red liquid passing through her lips.

  Shinso slowly reached for a cup of tea, but Losalzo's hand swatted him away. The black vulpur looked down at him.

  "Radican tea is poison to regular humans."

  Hearing this, Shinso scoffed to himself. "It sounds like you didn't take the human in the room into account."

  Perola looked up from her cup, smiling softly. "No, we did."

  She extended one of her furry paws to the far end of the room. In the corner were a few items. One of them was a metallic chain, the end bolted into the wall with a metallic plate and hook. The chain was connected to a collar, the inside lined with bumps and ridges, ridges that would quickly prove uncomfortable to the touch.

  A few pieces of newspaper were also scattered across the ground beside the chain, and a plate of food had been prepared for him—mashed potatoes, peas, and hearty chicken. Shinso had no idea as to where they had gotten the food, but his focus wasn't on the food, but of the proposed living arrangements presented to him.

  His shoulders sagged as he grumbled. "Is that supposed to be... my bed?"

  Losalzo patted him on the back. "Yep. now go eat up while we talk about what to do next. If you behave, we'll make sure to give you a little treat."

  Shinso cursed to himself about the absurdity of his situation, but he didn't resist. Just as he approached his plate of food on the wooden floor, the door suddenly opened behind him. In walked Harry—his appearance was the same as the last time Shinso had seen him, but what took him aback were the stitches on his throat. The ginger-haired man adjusted his cravat and announced.

  "I apologize if I'm interrupting anything, but I'd like to report the research on the concoction those... twins made."

  He reached into his pocket, taking out what looked to be a pea. But this pea was differant—it was the size of an apple! Everyone in the room, including Shinso, seemed to marvel at this. A troth of drool escaped the corners of Losalzo's scarred lips, and Perola's eyes widened. Francis and Fatima chuckled to themselves, giving each other a celebratory high-five.

  "You mentioned you had one more with you?" Harry scanned the room.

  "Yes, Monsour. He's out handling business related to loans and whatnot. He'll be back soon, and we can all marvel at this... anomaly of genetic engineering"

  Perola looked at Francis and Fatima, nodding as she smiled. "You did well."

  The twins chuckled with a slight fluster, looking away from each other. "Great minds do think alike... or, wait, our minds are connected."

  Losalzo abruptly cleared his throat, turning to both of the navy-blue furred twins. "So, when one has a wet dream, the other experiences it too?"

  Francis's face turned red like a cherry as he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing in his chest. "That's not important, and none of your business!"