“We’ve checked every alleyway and corner here, so the only thing left to do is…”


    “Interrogate the people.”


    Azrael flashed me a smile as I completed his sentence.


    Maybe I could finally have some fun. These people had already been getting on my nerves, and now we had a perfect excuse to remind them who they were dealing with.


    We made our move toward the nearest pedestrian—a scruffy, battle-worn man who had been watching us just moments ago. The instant we approached, his body stiffened, startled by the sudden shift in roles.


    I had to give them some credit.


    They were tenacious.


    The wounds covering their bodies told me everything—these people had fought, bled, and survived.


    That alone was worthy of respect.


    But that was it.


    Their arrogance? Their delusion that they were somehow better than us?


    Laughable.


    Azrael took the lead.


    “Hello,” he said smoothly, his tone almost casual. “My name is Azrael. I just wanted to ask a question, if you have time.”


    The man scoffed, arms crossed.


    “I don’t have time for upper-level weaklings. Get lost.”


    I almost laughed out loud.


    Weaklings?


    Just because they had defeated a few mortals, they thought they were unstoppable?


    How moronic.


    Azrael sighed before grabbing the man''s right shoulder, squeezing—just enough to hurt.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Not enough to cripple.


    Not yet.


    Azrael’s voice was calm. Deceptively calm.


    “Let me ask again.” His fingers tightened. “Have you seen a tall girl with crimson eyes and obsidian-black hair? She’s from the upper levels. You’d remember if you saw her.”


    The man flinched, trying to wrench himself free, but it was futile.


    Azrael’s grip only tightened.


    I considered stepping in—just to mess around—but before I could, the man gave in.


    “I—I haven’t seen anyone like that! The only upper-level people I’ve seen are you two!”


    Azrael squeezed harder.


    I heard a faint crack.


    He had just broken the man’s shoulder.


    Well, isn’t he ruthless.


    The man let out a strangled, pain-filled scream—before Azrael’s hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him instantly.


    Then, his voice dropped to a low warning.


    “If you’re going to lie,” Azrael murmured, his grip like iron, “at least lie skillfully. Because right now? I can read your face like a book.”


    Damn.


    The man’s eyes darted to me, pleading, hoping I would stop this.


    Hah.


    The despair in his gaze was… delicious.


    “Okay… Okay… Please don’t hurt me…!” He gulped. “I swear—I really haven’t seen her! But my friend has.”


    Azrael raised a brow. “Your friend?”


    The man nodded rapidly.


    “But I… I can’t take you to him. He’s in an isolated place. I don’t have permission to go there.”


    Bingo.


    Two birds. One stone.


    Azrael didn’t even need to push further. The fool had already told us everything.


    “Do you know where this ‘isolated’ place is?” Azrael asked. “Just tell us the location. We’ll handle the rest.”


    The man hesitated.


    He wanted to protest.


    Then he looked into Azrael’s eyes again.


    And choked on his own saliva.


    “Fine!” He swallowed hard. “I—I’ll take you there. Just… just don’t tell anyone it was me.”


    Azrael let out a dark chuckle.


    “You’re in no position to demand anything.” His voice was ice. “If you had just answered properly the first time, I might have let you go. But now?”


    The man clenched his jaw, teeth gritting in frustration.


    That was the only resistance he could muster.


    I leaned toward Azrael, smirking.


    “Hey, hush, listen,” I whispered playfully. “Next time, let me do the interrogation. It’s not fun watching you have all the fun.”


    Azrael gave me a flat look.


    “Fun?” He scoffed. “I wasn’t having fun.”


    I raised a brow.


    Sure, Azrael. Sure.


    ……


    We followed the man through a narrow alleyway until he stopped at a small hut.


    He glanced around, nervous, then moved toward a pile of barrels stacked in the corner.


    With some effort, he pushed them aside—revealing a trapdoor.


    Well, well.


    No wonder we hadn’t found anything.


    They were hiding underground.


    I sighed.


    “This is kind of anti-climactic.”


    The man looked at us one last time, his eyes pleading for permission to leave.


    Azrael gave him a dismissive wave.


    Surprising. I had half-expected him to kill the guy.


    Without a second glance, the man limped away, his broken shoulder dangling uselessly.


    I turned to Azrael, smirking.


    “After you.”


    He swatted my arm away.


    I barely held back a laugh.


    Damn.


    He knew I was about to say ‘ladies first.’


    Better luck next time, Kaltain.


    ……


    The underground cellar was straight out of a horror movie.


    Chains hung from the ceiling, their metal links clinking softly in the stale air.


    The stench was even worse than in the slums—rotting flesh, filth, and something else.


    Something familiar.


    Blood.


    Wall-mounted torches flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows as we moved deeper.


    The silence was oppressive.


    Finally, we reached a room.


    Its floors were stained red, its walls covered in scribbles—random symbols and markings, written in a language I didn’t recognize.


    Connected to it were more doors, leading into more rooms.


    A maze.


    This place wasn’t just a hideout.


    It was a puzzle.


    And whoever had built it…


    Had done so intentionally.


    We weren’t hiding our presence.


    We weren’t sneaking around.


    We walked through the hallways like we owned the place.


    And then—


    We found it.


    A room filled to the brim with cradles.


    Cradles?


    Seriously?