With a flick of his wrist, Porter crushed the magic pearl in his hand.
Benji immediately crinkled his nose and tried to kill off the urge to gag. The sharp stink barely lasted half a second... but it made him think of a wild animal's guts being charred in a flame.
Tyco narrowed his yellow eyes... but they grew out of focus, as if he were staring a thousand-yalms away. The magic was designed to be subtle, so there weren't any other noticeable effects... but Benji had no reason to believe it didn't work.
It was impossible for a normal human being to resist a Third-Circle spell-- assuming the black-armored adventurer was human. And even if he wasn't... it's not like the black-armored adventurer was a Caster Class.
"What's that?" The big woman asked.
"That... is a Power Pearl," Tyco answered in a flat, measured tone... "It can be charged with a single spell... to be released upon a trigger determined at its creation."
"Ah, Master Tyco," Porter chuckled in relief before nodding with a grin. "I see you are a gentleman of culture and great intelligence. I'd like to invite you to accompany me and my men for... further discussion?"
Tyco shook his head, as if trying to shake off the effects... but dispelling actual Mind-Control can't have been anything that simple.
"I shall... consider it," He muttered.
Benji raised his eyebrows. That... didn't sound like a 'yes'. But... that might have just been how the green-haired guy talked? He didn't talk like a normal guy-- that was for sure.
"Nice armor, Master Tyco," Elle smirked. "Very handsome."
"You think so?" Tyco's voice was soft... almost weak. "Princess Ophelia has offered to cover the commissioning of a set of Arcanite armor for your personal use. From here, I'll be taking you to choose a design... after I get my take-out, of course."
Coraline raised her hand, "I still have to go to the library... and I should probably stay behind and ask Mister Porter some questions."
Elle put a hand on her hip and shifted her weight, "Don't you want some new armor too, Coraline?"
It... looked more intimidating than it should have.
"Serious?" Coraline frowned. "Armor's expensive. And what am I gonna do with it? I'm an Arcanist."
"We'll make an appointment for her in the morning," Tyco sighed. "Come along, my love. We've only two bells before the armorer closes for the night."
Porter coughed into his closed fist, "Ahem... Uh... Are you... certain? Master Tyco? That you wouldn't rather..."
"--a moment, Mister Porter," Tyco held a hand out to stop him, "Coraline."
The elf girl's ears perked up immediately, "Yessir?"
"How long would it take you to find the location of Mister Porter's family?"
"Two bells, tops," Coraline shrugged. "Though when I checked his file, I'm pretty sure he only cares about his mother-- she lives in the east district."
...So Mama Bird's location has been compromised. Benji had seen enough... and he didn't want to watch Porter lose any more face.
For whatever reason, the Power Pearl wasn't working-- didn't work. The how or why wasn't important. What was important was withdrawing back to the hideout as fast as possible.
pαndα noνɐ1,сoМ The mission was a failure.
"Let's get back to Doan, boys... Nothin' left for us, here."
...
Too strong.
Too damn strong.
Benji descended deeper into the alleyway, deep in thought.
If the Gold-Rank came looking for the Bone-Rat Gang, then they were all as good as dead.
The smartest thing to do... would be to leave the city immediately. However... none of the others would be keen on escaping. Whitehearth was all they knew.
And anyroad, the idiots would want to put up some kind of fight. It was up to the brains of the gang-- him and/or Porter, to figure out not just how to keep them alive... but how to win.
"Seven f*ckin' hells," Benji cursed underneath his breath.
He considered running off on his own... but that was a shite idea, too.
Benji was fifteen years old... and he'd earned his place as Porter's second over weeks and moons of proving that he was more than his age. In no other city would he be able to have the kind of respect he had in the Bone Rat Gang-- not unless he started from zero all over again.
Staying and fighting...
It wasn't impossible to make it work.
Immortals and gods didn't exist.
Benji could enlist the help of one of the other Dark Guilds... ones that Porter and the Bone Rats had worked with in the past...
If he got all the gang leaders and their Lieutenants together... that'd make up about six Iron-Ranks. Maybe they could hire a Second-Circle Mage on top of that for extra insurance.
...It was shite to think that Boss Porter was the strongest Iron-Ranked gangster in the city... because he might as well have been an impotent cripple if he were to fight Tyco by himself.
Benji figured he could try one of the weapon smugglers... The Rats could stand a hance if they were all armed with Orkish Sugar weapons-- more than just Soren and his second-rate flintlock.
Maybe... the Rats could even take the offensive. It could save a lot of coin if they could blackmail a whore to poison Tyco's food or drink.
If he was f*cking elves and giants, then he'd probably be interested in other exotics...
Different flavored whores were easy enough to find... but the price tag and risk of crossing their handlers upped accordingly.
Benji massaged the bridge of his nose-- he was feeling an oncoming headache. He wasn't confident in pulling off any of those ideas.
Any feasible plan of action would require coin... some kind of security deposit... some kind of promise. The Bone Rats had reputation... but not nearly enough for their allies to be willing to throw down against a Gold-Rank.
It was better to let every Rat die as they deserved. Then the other gangs would scramble to pick up the pieces that got left behind.
"Oy," One of the Bone Rats hurried to his side, "Hey, kid. How f*cked are we?"
"Against a Gold-Rank? Ergh..." Benji growled. "On a scale o' one to ten-- we're f*cked."
"Sheeee-itttt. So what do we do from here?"
"I think you already know the answer..." Benji pursed his lips.
"...We make peace with our gods," The Rat scowled.
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