Heavy Metal

"Hey! Where do you think you are touching? Stop that. Do you even have enough money to pay?"

"Hehe, what do I need money for? I'm with the Black Hounds. They'll pick up the tab later."

A drunken man placed his hand on a woman's hip as he stood before a red light district establishment. He was not alone. Another similarly intoxicated customer was trying to enter the same building, but the guards stationed at the entrance were having none of it.

"Dear customer, if you wish to partake in our ladies, you will have to sober up first. Please come back tomorrow with the correct amount of money and…"

A large bald man spoke calmly while four other men stood behind him, their weapons ready to be drawn. Before he could finish his short speech, the drunk hurled his nearly empty beer mug at him.

"Why are you talking back? Do you know who you are talking to? We are part of the Black Hounds. We own these streets!"

"Yeah, move it baldy!"

Soon, the other man joined, and they started shouting at the establishment guards. The shouting drew the attention of nearby onlookers and even a pair of city guards who began to approach.

"What are you doing? Just move along."

The city guard barked the order at the mercenary. Even in his drunken state, the man knew that provoking soldiers owned by the nobles was a bad idea.

"Please visit our establishment again, good sirs."

The large man said, smiling as the two troublemakers began to retreat. Some of the crowd chuckled, which caused the two to turn around and shout.

"Screw you! You'll all be sorry!"

"Yeah, you better watch yourself from now on. People go missing in these streets every day!"

The two mercenaries moved on. The bald man's perfect smile twisted into a menacing frown the moment they were out of sight. His fist slammed into a brick wall, which cracked under the impact.

"Fuckers…"

"Boss, was that really alright?"

Asked one of the guards standing behind the large man.

"Two of our girls have already gone missing. I won't let it happen to another one."

The other men frowned. They all knew it was true. Every one of them clenched their fists, wishing they could chase after the two mercenaries and beat them to death, but they were powerless.

"It's fine. Get back to work. The night is still young, and there is money to be made."

The bald man trailed off as his gaze drifted down the street. For a brief moment, he saw a strange, robed figure. He could not make out much, but moonlight reflected off something shiny beneath the hood before the figure disappeared in the same direction the mercenaries had gone.

"Back to your positions. If I catch any of you sleeping, I'll break your bones."

"Yes, sir!"

The men shouted, and everything returned to normal. With the trouble gone, customers began filing back in, and laughter once again filled the place of debauchery. Meanwhile, the two mercenaries headed alone toward the slums, shouting profanities as they went.

"Those fucks."

"Calm down. You'll get us in trouble. The captain helped us get rid of that mess last time, but he said he would kill us if he caught us doing it again."

"So? We just don't get caught."

"That's true."

Both men laughed as they continued forward. Once they entered this part of town, the lights faded, leaving only the pale glow of moonlight. There were no guards, no one who would interfere. Soon enough, to their surprise, they heard something interesting.

"You boys want to have some fun? I'll give you a good price."

A sultry voice echoed from one of the nearby alleyways. The two had not expected to find anything worthwhile, and they could barely make out the speaker due to the lack of light, but her voice was undeniably enticing.

"So… you boys want to have some fun or not?"

The voice came again, clearer this time, soft, breathy, and sensual. It drifted from the narrow alley to their right, where the moonlight failed to reach, and shadows pooled thick and deep. The two mercenaries stopped and looked at each other, gulping hard.

"Hah?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah…"

They turned, squinting into the darkness. At the far end of the alley stood a slender silhouette, half hidden behind a stack of broken crates. The figure looked inviting, but the moment the two men focused on her, she slipped away deeper into the alley.

"…"

"…"

They exchanged glances, then slow, devilish grins spread across their faces. This was the slums, a place without guards or even the protection of hired muscle from the red light district. To them, she looked like an easy target. They had only a few copper coins left, but they did not care. In their eyes, they could simply take what they wanted.

"Hey, wait up, sweetheart!"

The taller mercenary called out, his voice thick with lust and ale.

"Don't go running off now. We've got plenty of appreciation to show you."

They stumbled into the alley, boots splashing through puddles of stagnant water and filth. The air grew heavy, reeking of damp stone and rot. With every step, the light from the street faded until it was nothing more than a thin sliver behind them.

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"Where'd she go?"

One of them scratched his head as they reached the end of the alley, only to find a dead end waiting for them.

"I saw her slip behind those barrels. Maybe there's a door she went through?"

"I don't see anything. Did she figure it out and run away?"

"But where?"

The two men were dumbfounded. They could not see any way out. The walls were steep and far too slippery for a woman to climb, especially if she were trying to escape trained mercenaries. However, just as the two men turned away from each other, something happened.

"ARGH!"

One man screamed, prompting the other to spin around. To his horror, he saw his companion's head gripped by large, strange metallic hands. They were not normal hands. They looked demonic, sharp like the talons of a beast, and made of gleaming metal that reflected his own terrified expression.

"Help m…"

Before the man could finish the word, his whole body was yanked into the darkness above. His friend grabbed his ankle in a desperate attempt to pull him back to the ground. The drunk mercenary's weight shifted instantly, his boots tearing free of the muddy earth as he was hauled upward along with him. A sharp crack echoed from above, as if something had snapped.

"W-who dares attack the Black Hounds!"

He shouted the name of his mercenaries as his grip slipped from the other man's ankle. His body crashed back onto the damp ground, yet his gaze remained fixed on the dark unknown overhead. From within the shadows came more sickening crunches, followed by the sound of something falling.

"Ahhh!?"

He screamed again as the other mercenary's body tumbled out of the darkness. His head was twisted backward, clearly broken. The rest of him was no better, marked by deep claw gashes and shattered joints and bones. It was obvious that whatever had done this possessed overwhelming strength, enough to mangle even a battle-class holder.

"S-shit."

As strength returned to his legs, he quickly turned and ran. He was no stranger to death and violence, so the sight did not disturb him as much as it should have. In his mind, he knew that if he could escape this alleyway and make it back to one of the other districts, they could find whoever had done this.

"Whoever you are, you're going to regret… this?"

Suddenly, his body slammed into something solid. Confused, he staggered back. Nothing had been there before, yet now an invisible force blocked his way. His hands went to the sword strapped at his side, and he struck forward, but the blade bounced off a magical barrier that had appeared out of nowhere.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to have some fun?"

Goosebumps rose along his arms as he realized he could not break the magic. A sultry voice echoed from behind him. He turned, gripping his sword with both hands as it began to tremble.

"W-who are you? Get back!"

"Oh, don't you remember? Why don't I help you remember then…"

A figure emerged from the shadows, no longer hidden beneath a robe but fully exposed. Moonlight reflected off its metallic form, sleek and tall. Its arms and legs were unnaturally long, and while its hands ended in sharpened claws, its feet appeared much the same.

"W-what are you… monster!?"

The figure crawled along the wall, clinging to it like glue as it crept forward, a predator stalking its prey. Its head was metal, yet within it was a woman's face. Her cheeks were scratched down to the bone, her flesh torn and decayed.

"You had your fun with her, didn't you? You might have forgotten, but her memories of that day still remain… who is the real monster here?"

For a brief moment, something was recalled in the man's mind, a memory tried to surface, but he was given no time to grasp it. The creature lunged at him with terrifying speed, its form blurring like an insect in flight. He raised his sword and slashed forward, trying to intercept the oncoming monstrosity.

Claws collided with steel, and the outcome was immediate. The longsword shattered under the immense force, and the claws tore into his flesh. His body was thrown back against the invisible barrier that had blocked his escape.

"Ugh…"

He could not even scream. Multiple claws, each as large as a knife, pierced his lungs. Blood pooled beneath his feet as the creature leaned closer. His vision blurred, but he could still clearly see the half-decayed face of the woman he once knew, the woman he had killed.

*****

"It would be best if we don't do this too often, or they will eventually realise."

A black wisp of light floated out of the metallic figure that had once been Rusty, now housed in his improved Wraith frame. The head of the woman within his current shell had belonged to a lady of the night, someone who had worked in the city not long ago.

"Good job with the barrier, Gleam."

Rusty spoke as his ant companion popped her head out from the alleyway entrance.

"( •̀ - •́ )"

"I know. Both of them deserved it. Even Alexander agrees, don't you?"

"..."

Alexander's white light emerged from Rusty, drifting forward to examine the two dead mercenaries.

"Scum like this can't be saved…"

The woman's body was something Gleam had discovered while keeping watch over the movements of the Black Hounds. At first, the plan had only been to observe and eliminate their sub-leaders so the organisation could not easily recover after Varkas was dead. However, once she began following the trail left by some of the group's members, she uncovered hidden truths.

By tracking a trail they had left behind, they found a dumping ground filled with bodies, some buried and others simply thrown aside for monsters to clean up. The head Rusty now wore had belonged to one of those victims, killed by the very man lying dead before them. Her memories revealed a horrific encounter with drunken men that ended with her being drugged and eventually murdered.

It quickly became clear that this organisation was far more foul than they had anticipated, and dealing with it would probably require much more work. From within the pile of corpses, Rusty decided to remove a few heads. With his possession skill, he could read old memories and use them to identify his next targets.

"These two were just the beginning. Let's go to the next spot. This night is far from over."

The head within his helmet vanished from his frame, and soon the same happened to the two men he had just killed. Once their lives were fully extinguished, he placed the bodies into his storage system. While he could not get rid of the blood, removing the bodies bought him more time to act and less time for his enemies to realize he was responsible.

Soon, his form was climbing the walls, claws gripping stone with ease as he leapt several meters into the air. This body, capable of moving on all fours, was perfect for a nightly crawl. He had paired it with various enchantments that kept it silent and deadly. With the help of his weight control skill, he moved through the night like a shadowy prowler, and even if he were discovered, he could slip into the darkness and remain undetected.

His next targets were mercenaries who frequently gathered at a particular gambling den hidden within the slums. Thanks to the head he was currently using, he knew exactly where it was concealed.

The city did not yet truly have a thieves guild, but certain places served a similar role. The victim whose face he now wore had been a thief, not a good person, but no worse than the people he dealt with. While there were gambling establishments elsewhere in the city, some were tucked away in the slums, hidden and untaxed by the lord. They were run with the quiet assistance of the Hounds, without the Hounds themselves realizing it.

'The perfect place to strike, they won't be able to report this to the lord.'

Rusty knew how humanoids operated and how crooked some of them were. Even if he destroyed the hidden gambling establishment, the hounds wouldn't be able to get help from the guards, opening up new avenues for future hunts, something he had also planned for.

He perched atop a sagging rooftop across from the den, crouched low as rain began to patter against rusted rooftiles. Below him, the gambling house pretended to be nothing more than an abandoned storehouse. Boards nailed crooked over windows, a single lantern burning dim and yellow. Yet the flow of men slipping inside and out told the truth.

"Busy night… good. Gleam, can you do it?"

"( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و"

Gleam hopped off his shoulder and skittered through the shadows toward the building. While she had not yet reached the next D-rank, she had gained enough levels to learn several useful spells. One of them was a barrier that, with some preparation, could be woven around a wide area and keep all sound contained within it, along with not allowing anyone to escape.

He waited as she worked, circling several points to form a pattern around the seemingly abandoned structure. The lone drunk guard was dragged aside by his metallic claws and quickly dealt with. Inside this den waited one of the sub-leaders, a proper D-rank combatant. This fight would not be as easy as the last, but he felt no fear. These mercenaries had gone too far, and now their lives would soon end.