There had been layer after layer of proximity wards spread all throughout the town of Duland, and when Vesdel and the elder voleur d'ame
had set them off, a slew of secondary wards, more fine tuned and reliable than the initial, primary ones, also became active. These new wards were of a more subtle nature, and although they carried a smaller effective range, their precision was by far greater. Indeed, if the primary wards had been a net, a web which could alert its creator(s) to the use of harmful or offensive Qi
techniques, then the secondary wards were active sentries, a detection system that scanned for, and homed in on, whoever had set off the original alarm.
Bojan Myaskovsky felt the beginnings of a headache forming when he arrived to where the sentries had last felt the voleur d’ame
’s presence. He sighed and looked around with irritation. He was standing in front of a concert hall, or maybe the place where the local politicians convened to jerk one another off, or maybe it was a place for both to occur. How should he know? He hated this country.
It could only be the vagrant, Vesdel Vivisan. Many, many
spirit eaters were of an eccentric nature, but Vesdel appeared to also lack the common instinct of self-perseveration. That was not entirely uncommon either, but . . . A concert hall
“Class?” He sighed.
[Basic, as expected. It isn‘t hiding itself, but from how it‘s behaved so far I don‘t believe it‘s a trap.]
“Agreed, it’s a baby. Any word on Rin?”
It was Noemi’s turn to sigh, and she made sure it transmitted over so that he could hear it. He was being blocked by the powers that be.
[Agent Kurohara is in the field, in Igoras. She will be busy on routine soul assignment for the next two weeks. You‘re on your own, Myaskovsky; you‘ll have to find your guy without her dogs.]
Bojan wanted to laugh, but he instead removed a cigar from a wooden case he kept in his pocket, put its head into a mechanical device, pulled on either end, and watched as two guillotine blades separated it into two pieces, the smaller of them falling to the ground carelessly.
“One thing at a time, I guess. I’ll go and pay Mr. Vivisan a visit, maybe see if he knows where our friend has wandered off to before it’s too late.”
He closed his eyes and breathed, counting from one to ten in his head, and then he started walking toward the concert hall, placing the cigar in his mouth and lighting it with a flick of his hand as he did.Vesdel Vivisan
, he thought to himself, his anger growing until it was a thin, hot line that made his steps steadier, his stride stronger. The spirit eater had coerced and compromised one of his fellow agents, a member of his
family, as far as he was concerned. He would take great, great
pleasure in ripping Vesdel apart, in pulling bits and pieces from the thing until it was a quivering, sobbing mess on the ground. He would torture and abuse it, and then he would scatter it, erase
it from the very plane of existence. There would be no heaven, no hell, and especially no purgatory for this thing.
Bojan released a plume of smoke from his mouth and spat the cigar out, entering the concert hall with a singular purpose: Elminate Vesdel Vivisan.