The Seeker | Volume 2

Ling and Palsy definitely felt a bitter rush of nostalgia as they breathed in the salty and bitter air of the Katshin ports.

Earlier, to much displeasure, they'd been ordered by the Emperor to get groceries for him.

"Not the guards? Doesn't he know we have families to attend to?" Palsy groaned as he stuffed a few melons into the bag.

"We don't have time for such trivial tasks, but he's the emperor, so blind obedience is titanic here." Ling replied solemnly. 

Suddenly, everyone in the market looked on in a daze, as they all caught sight of the snow that began to come down from the sky.

People began screaming and dropping their bags to the ground, hiding under the market stalls and pulling out their umbrellas.

Ling and Palsy knew that snow was, after all they'd been dispatched to numerous off-kingdom locations for numerous purposes.

"No need to fret; it's not painful." Ling said with a gentle smile as he reached his hand out, cupping a small amount of the chilly snow.

The people in the market remained silently, watching with wide eyes as the man held the foreign substance. 

Before anyone could consider this fact, a loud scream was heard from afar.

Ling and Palsy immediately dropped their items and ran to the source of it. When they caught sight of the scene, their eyes widened in shock.

In an alleyway, the corpse of a man was seen. He was curled up into a ball and his skin was gray like the snow that fell from the sky.

Palsy approached the corpse and rolled it over carefully. The man's face was sunken in, and his eyes appeared glazed over.

Behind his blue bangs, Palsy saw a familiar symbol, the Depravity sigil! 

"The mad king…the mad king…" A woman, the one who had screamed, began incessantly mumbling under her breath.

Ling turned around and raised his eyebrows. "That name…"

He walked over and held the woman's shoulders tightly. "Who's the mad king, do you know?" 

The woman, who appeared entranced with a strange fear, nodded slowly. 

"Angel…of…Depravity." She mumbled.

"Angel of Depravity?" Ling repeated the statement.

The woman couldn't say anything more, as her lips were suddenly sealed by some unknown force. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of rounded glasses.

She put them on her face as the ends of her lips began to curl up. Then, with a sudden gasp, she fell to the ground, twitching slightly.

…

At the police office, Ling and Palsy heaved the corpse onto a table in a dark room illuminated only by a gas lamp. 

"She collapsed, you said?" An officer with a lanky build, small wrinkles and black hair asked, studying the corpse.

"Yes, her heart also stopped beating. But there was something strange at the scene." Ling replied.

The officer looked up at the Chinese man and cocked an eyebrow. 

"Something strange?"

Ling reached his hand forward and grabbed the pair of rounded glasses off of the woman's face, showing them to the man.

"She put these on while smiling. I've never seen something like this."

The black haired man slowly took the glasses from Ling, holding them in his hand. 

He suddenly felt an abnormal buzzing feeling engulf his hand, as if it had just fallen asleep.

"These aren't normal glasses…" he mumbled.

Ling was intrigued by the statement. "Not normal?" 

He put the glasses on another table behind him, his gaze lingering on the foreign artifact for a few moments before returning to the two officers.

"I feel something within them. When I held them my hand began to buzz."

Just then, the door opened. And a man wearing a vest, a silk top mat and a monocle entered. He grasped a golden inlaid cane in his left hand. 

"Mr. Dominik, you're early." He said.

Mr. Dominik sighed as he put his cane on a rack beside the door.

The officer with black hair cleared his throat and turned back to Ling and Palsy.

"Mr. Ling, Mr. Palsy, this is Mr. Dominik from the Katshin Supernatural Analytical District. We've summoned him here to ask you a few questions in regards to the scene."

"How'd he know there was supernatural activity at play?" Palsy asked, his eyes narrowing slightly at the man.

"Everyone in the group is a Seeker, and we will be notified whenever anything supernatural is at play that we can tackle."

Upon hearing Dominik's explanation, Palsy closed his eyes and sighed. He looked towards the female corpse on the table and gestured towards it.

"We're here to talk about this I assume?" Dominik asked.

Palsy nodded as he grabbed a chair from the corner and placed it in front of Mr. Dominik.

The man in the top hat sat down and looked at the corpse on the table with curiosity.

After a few moments, he spoke up. "Since I was summoned, I could use mystical abilities to figure out why this is deemed such."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a needle from a hidden pocket. With a quick motion, he jabbed the small object into the woman's eye. Blood splattered and gushed from the wound as the man brought the bloodied object to his nose, sniffing it.

"She's witnessed something dark, something malevolent." 

…

"I had a dream, Cheyenne; it wasn't good." I said hoarsely as I leaned up, rubbing my eyes to eliminate the tiredness. 

"Mind explaining?" Cheyenne asked, his eyes softening with an almost fatherly concern. 

I looked towards the dark skinned man before sighing, feeling embarrassed to explain. "I think I was spiritually attacked."

Cheyenne's eyes widened slightly upon hearing my statement. "Mind elaborating?" he asked. 

"I was lucid dreaming when the scene changed, I was restrained and a person I knew entered the room, but I knew it wasn't them. He had snakes for hair and he didn't feel right…"

"Snakes for hair?" He continued.

"Is it familiar to you?" I asked, my curiosity peaking a little as I looked towards Cheyenne. 

Cheyenne looked towards the mountain from which the storm was continuing to rage and nodded.

"A demoness. They're ancient beings that only bring catastrophe and despair. In the time before I was born, there was a powerful Demoness who lived alongside another Demon: The Primordial Demon King. She was the Mother of Demonesses."

"She was a True God of the Demoness Routeway and attempted to merge with the Primordial Demon King to become a Great Ancient One. But the Demon King was only a Lord of Angels, and had two out of the four Order 1 Characteristics required for advancement."

"This resulted in the Mother of Demonesses's death, and every fiber of her being; every characteristic and ounce of divinity inside of her leaked outside. This resulted in the creation of the Demonesses that roam this world. If one drinks the Demon Routeway Order 9 potion they'll gain the abilities of a Demoness, but there's a chance that within the potion, she'll revive within the."

"I don't think it was the Mother of Demonesses, because I was able to break free. After the snake bit me, I would most likely have been trapped in the dream forever. It probably was a much weaker Demoness."

Cheyenne nodded as he heard my statement. "That's a possibility."

Just then, he grabbed a wooden bowl from out of his satchel and unloaded a series of ingredients along with it.

"While you were asleep I gathered the potion ingredients. Are you ready, Isaac?"

I was taken aback by how quickly Cheyenne gathered the Order 7 potion ingredients, but I was also relieved to a certain extent. 

With a nod I replied. "Yes."

Cheyenne smiled as he began to break apart the flaming leaves, the bark and the blood red water he harvested from the stream a few meters south. After about 5 minutes the concoction turned an illusory red color and began to glow. 

I felt a strange rush of cold engulf my body upon seeing the potion in its full form. The tribesman took my hand slowly and cupped it around the wooden bowl. With a slow, hesitant gulp, I drank the potion.

I immediately felt the side effects of the potion engulf my senses. Within my stomach, it felt extremely warm and vicious, and I felt a strange crawling sensation engulf my back. I closed my eyes slowly and took a deep breath, just then everything around me fell deathly silent. 

In my sudden confusion I opened my eyes, but this wasn't a familiar scene. 

I saw large buildings that stretched meters into the air, all looking rustic and victorian. The buildings were sleek and geometric. 

On the streets there were numerous people walking down the road, all carrying umbrellas to protect themselves from the ongoing rainfall. The people all appeared miserable, their faces contorted with an almost infectious frown. 

Their eyes were all sunken and they walked sluggishly. In the distance, I heard muffled music playing inside of a building. When I turned around I noticed text in an italic font in golden lettering: Jazz Club.

My eyes widened as I connected the dots in an instant. In the brief moments I would listen in history class I knew that Jazz Clubs were titanic during the period of the 1920's and the 1930's. 

And with the glares and frowns of the people and the architecture, I could quickly deduce this was near the Great Depression!

"Get back here!" I heard a young cry among the people. 

Suddenly, a woman fell into the street, having been pushed over by someone else. 

I watched as a blurry figure ran through the streets, chasing another person who appeared scared.

My head followed their direction as I began to follow the duo through the streets. I did so with little effort since I wasn't technically there. I phased through the seemingly endless amount of people and turned into a dark alleyway.

Just then, I could see the people clearly. One of them was a young boy with black hair with brown at its roots. His hair was short and wavy in length. In his right hand he carried a metal pipe, and in the left he had a clenched fist.

The other figure was another young boy, who carried a small amount of coins in his quivering, small hands. 

"You're gonna pay for stealing!" The boy with the pipe cried as he ran at the boy that looked about his age, swinging the metal weapon horizontally, striking the boy in the face, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

I watched in shock as the boy in a fit of anger began to slam in the other boy's face with the metal pipe, the sounds of flesh and bones cracking under the heavy strikes was an unsettling thing to hear.

After about 2 minutes he stopped his attacks. I carefully approached the mangled form of the boy, realizing that his face was deathly bruised and purple. Multiple teeth were shattered in his mouth. I didn't see the slightest bit of movement emanate from the boy; not even the inscrutable sensation of the rise and fall of his small chest.

"Owen!" A female voice cried from behind the boy who had dropped the metal pipe. The boy with black hair turned around as tears began to well in his eyes. Then, he began to bawl.