1% Lifesteal

The destruction was so thorough and horrible that none of what had been destroyed had been recovered or even cleaned; barely intact corpses littered the premises of what had once been the residential area of the camp. Mark felt his stomach drop as he witnessed the destruction; this was where Freddy had been?

Again, he had no idea precisely what Madame was basing the presumption that he was still alive on, but no more thinking about that. All he knew was that she was confident, and they were on a mission to find him.

According to the report, a few survivors had managed to hide away in the surrounding caves, but Freddy Stern hadn't been among them. Madame claimed that he was still alive, and the most likely scenario was that he was hiding in the caverns somewhere. With his talent, surviving even in such conditions wasn't an unbelievable possibility. Thus, they began their search.

For the most part, Nahar and Mark weren't here to help look for him; Madame could handle that part just fine, and she sure didn't need any bodyguards.

But they had made a deal with her; Nahar had promised to represent the Kraven in compensating Freddy for the injustice he had suffered from their faction, while Mark, on the other hand, was only there to admit guilt for his betrayal and apologize. They would first sit him down and explain the situation from every perspective as soon as they found him.

Mark had no idea why she was going this far out of her way for Freddy. It wasn't like he was against it, but it was unusual that somebody of her station would be going this far out of her way for someone who seemed so far below her. Her motives and intentions weren't his to judge. His part had been getting the poor man into the situation to begin with, and whatever she intended to do to him wasn't something he really had a right to speak about.

"Stay close to me, boys," she said. "If we come near him, I'll know." That was all the instruction Nahar and Mark received.

For the first few hours of the search, all they had come across were just a few loose monsters and a couple of animals. Eventually, they finally came across the zone they had been looking for. It was a barren area utterly void of life. The only thing of note there was what had once been the dueling arena.

The Kravens still had a copy of every report made before the immediate destruction of Camp Violet. Regarding reports mentioning Freddy, they found one mentioning him running away deep into the Wastes, where a group of scouts was sent after him. If he had indeed done so and was still hiding in this area, it would make sense how he managed to survive.

It was quite unlikely for him to still be in the actual Wastes; this area truly lived up to its namesake. The walls appeared to be nothing but plain dirt and barren stone.

The most likely possibility was that he had temporarily hidden away in the Wastes and then returned to the caverns. However, there was no actual confirmation that this was the case, and judging by the circumstances of why he ran away in the first place, the most likely scenario was that he would have just continued running, either leaving through the other side or, in the most likely scenario, by locating a passage somewhere within.

As they continued their search, however, something immediately stood out.

"There seem to be no passages in this area," Mark commented.

"Indeed," Madame confirmed.

This area was incredibly unnerving. It was quiet, calm. There was a bizarre sensation flickering at the edge of their perception.

Eventually, it seemed that even Madame herself was beginning to share this sentiment. "This area is truly unnatural."

Suddenly, she stopped; her eyes squinted, her gaze sharpening. She closed her eyes, and once she opened them again, she appeared distressed and concerned. Both Nahar and Mark reacted immediately. If she was acting like this, then there was definitely danger ahead. Mark made his giant sword appear, and Nahar conjured bladed blood whips. She didn't tell them to put their weapons away.

As they made their way forward, a distinctly chilling sensation could be sensed in the air around them. Eventually, they spotted it. A small opening was close to the top of one of the caverns.

There, they spotted a circular passage embedded into the ceiling, emitting a cold light.

***

It took quite a while for Freddy to get into the club. The line he was waiting in was one of a few. It was also the longest one. He stood there for around forty minutes and eventually reached the entrance.

Once he approached, the bouncer asked for his ID. He pulled it out and handed it to the man, who immediately reacted by raising his eyebrows. The man pulled a device out of his pocket and pressed it against the ID.

The device beeped, glowing green, and the man met his eyes. "Uh, sir," the bouncer started. "The waiting line for two-stars is over there," he said, pointing at the far shorter waiting line Freddy had believed to be for VIPs.

He winced at that. "Nah, man." He laughed awkwardly, dismissing the bouncer. "I'm the humble type. I prefer waiting in line." He cringed at his own words.

"Well…" The man hesitated. "If that's what you want, it's certainly well within your rights," he stated, moving aside to let him through.

"Yeah," he confirmed awkwardly, stepping past the man and walking into the club.

The bouncer stopped him again, grabbed his hand, and pressed a small cube against the back two times. When he lifted it, there were two small logos of the club left behind, marking his skin.

Freddy had no clue exactly what that was, but it was probably a confirmation that he entered legitimately.

Once again, he was assaulted by blaring lights and music so loud that it was blasting his eardrums open. He had no idea where to go or what to do, so he just strolled forward, pushing his way through the mass of people as he looked for a seat or a spot or anywhere he could settle.

A series of lounges lined the side of the crowded club. Most were empty, even though the club was highly crowded. So he made his way toward them and sat down at one.

"Sir, are you here for a reservation?" one of the waiters asked almost immediately as he sat down.

Freddy froze, wanting to bite himself at his stupidity. "No," he said. "I was wondering if I could buy one of these lounges."

"Buy? You want to reserve a lounge?" the man asked.

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

"Sorry, sir, but all of these are already taken for the night," the man said apologetically, glancing at the logos pressed to the back of his hand. As soon as he spotted them, his gaze changed slightly. "But we do have one of the VIP lounges still open…"

"How much would that cost?" he asked the man.

"The lounge? Nothing. But you have to buy at least a premium ten-man bottle service."

"And how much would that cost?" he asked him again.

"It's 35,000 dollars," the man answered.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "You know what; could you just show me to a table or something?"

The man smiled. "Sure thing, sir," he said. "Please follow me."

The man guided him through the mass of people, moving through the area and reaching one of the abandoned corners, where he pointed him to a few round tables with nobody standing at them.

He thanked the man, taking his place at the table as the waiter asked him what he wanted to order. Although he had no idea how he wanted others to join him, he didn't intend to stand there alone.

As the waiter patiently waited for him to make his order, he tried thinking back to his previous outing into a club. What did the people drink there? He remembered an assortment of miscellaneous drinks made of all sorts of fancy ether ingredients, and as for the regular drinks…

"I'll have one bottle of vodka, one bottle of whiskey, and a bottle of cocktail," he said.

"We don't sell cocktails in bottles," the man said, seeming amused at the request.

"Give me like ten glasses, then," he said instead.

"Do you have any preferences? If you don't, I could just bring you ten random drinks," the man added helpfully, already catching on to the fact that Freddy was a fucking moron.

"Sure thing."

The man nodded at him with an amused smile, winked, raised a thumbs up, and mouthed, "Good luck."

"Thank you," he mouthed back. As soon as the man walked out of sight, he buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Just relax," he told himself. "Take a moment to think before you speak. Breathe. And relax. Just relax. Chill. It's all good; it's cool; you're the man. You're the man for tonight. Yeah, that's right; you're a man. Now act like one!"

Thankfully, nobody overheard him.

It took a surprisingly short time for the man to fetch him the drinks. Not even ten minutes later, he was no longer standing there like an idiot; now, he was standing there like an idiot with a table full of drinks that nobody was drinking, not even himself.

A few people walked around and passed him, and he glared at them expectantly. He glared a bit too hard, it seemed, as most people interpreted his gaze as one of a warning, not an invitation. Minutes passed, and the bucket of ice slowly turned into a bucket of slush. Eventually, he finally caved in and grabbed one of the cocktails. "Mmm, sweet," he hummed.

As he put his drink down, he turned around and spotted two familiar figures walking around. The first was Robert, the lanky, pale-skinned, long-haired archer with a scruffy beard, and the second was Lance, the tall, bald Black brawler.

"Hey!" he yelled, waving at them.

The two men glared at him with a frown and then at each other, seemingly utterly oblivious as to who he was. It was no surprise, either, since not a single time while dealing with them had he taken off his helmet. After waving at them a few times and calling enthusiastically enough, the two men finally caved in and made their way forward.

"Hey… man," Robert greeted him cautiously as he gave him a handshake. "Do we know you?"

"I'm Fre—" he started but interrupted himself. "I'm Liam," he said instead.

"Liam?" the man yelled, clearly bewildered. "Oh, you mean that Liam!?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "That's me!"

"Yo, what the fuck is up, my man?" Lance greeted him enthusiastically, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "What?" the man asked as he laughed and clenched his hand harder. This wasn't how the man usually behaved. At all.

"What happened with the whole mask thing?" Robert asked. "I thought you were hiding your identity?"

"Well, it was never really about my identity," he said, scratching his head. "I don't really care if people see my face; I just… Well, if I'm being honest, I just didn't feel like getting close to anyone at work."

"Ah, I see, okay," the man said. "I get that." Then he seemed hesitant for a moment before asking, "Then, uh… Is it cool for us to join you?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, sure," he said enthusiastically. "You guys have been, uh… upgraded from colleagues to acquaintances!" he joked. "I'm a lot more chill with that."

"Makes sense. By the way, you're so much cuter than I thought you'd be," the archer added jokingly, elbowing him slightly. "I thought you'd be one ugly motherfucker."

"Yeah," Lance concurred with a chuckle. "Same."

"Sorry to disappoint?" he stated in a questioning tone, shooting them a cheeky grin. "Okay, so," he said while trying to think of what else to say. "Feel free to take anything you want. I'm treating tonight."

"Sure thing, my man," Lance said as he reached for the whiskey. "God knows we need a drink."

"Did something happen?"

"Yeah," Robert said. "Actually, our party disbanded today."

"What!?" he shouted. "How the hell did that happen? I was with you guys just this morning!"

"Theo and Beatrice are getting a divorce," the brawler said.

"Well, that came out of nowhere," he said, taken aback.

"For you, maybe," Robert commented sarcastically. "Not for us. They weren't really acting like themselves around somebody who's, well, kind of an outsider. But yeah, they fought a lot. I think you even saw them do that a few times. Theo is kind of a manipulative asshole, and Beatrice is a control freak, so those two never meshed particularly well."

"Wow," he breathed out, genuinely bewildered. "I'm shocked to hear that."

"Yeah," Lance confirmed. "Those two are major pieces of work."

"So wait," he started. "Your party is breaking up because of a divorce?"

"It's simple, really," Robert said. "If we had to pick between Theodore or Beatrice, or any party did for that matter, everybody would pick Theo because he's just so much more useful. For me and Lance, he is the obvious choice, but Beatrice and Petra are best friends, and Kyle and Petra are engaged. I'm sure you can put two and two together."

"Ah, yeah. So are you guys just… Is it just the two of you and Theo now?"

"No," the man denied. "Just me and Lance. Theo took an indefinite break from delving because he isn't really in the right mind space right now."

He blew some air through pursed lips. "Makes sense. That really sucks, though; I'm sorry that happened."

"Nah, it's cool," Robert said. "Our party has been a little dysfunctional for a while already. In fact, this is the perfect time for us to break up. I'm gonna be honest—since you've been working with us for the last month, we've literally doubled our income. I have so much more money now than I've ever had in my entire life. Thanks for that."

"I should be the one thanking you guys for doing all the work," he joked.

"By the way," Lance interrupted. "Did you really bring back fifty-seven motherfuckin' gorels by yourself today?"

"Yep," he confirmed, smiling.

"You fucking beast!" Lance said with a grin, offering him a fist pump. "We always knew you were something, but man…"

"Okay, okay, enough delving talk," he said, taking a glass and pouring himself some whiskey. Frankly, he wanted another fruity cocktail, but this seemed like the manlier thing to do. "I'll be honest with you guys. I haven't really gone out like this before, and I have no clue what to do," he said with a hint of shame hidden behind laughter. "I mean, I've been at a party before, but it was a private setting. So yeah, this whole thing is a bit tough. I already embarrassed myself like ten times since I entered here, so, you know… got any advice?"

"Actually, you seem pretty damn young," Robert said. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-two," he said.

"Twenty-two!?" Lance yelled. "No way, man. I'm like forty, and this motherfucker is thirty-five. How are you already so strong? Do you come from a rich family? Come on, you can tell us."

"Look, I don't really care about keeping my identity private, but I do have some shit I'd like to keep for myself, so I'd be grateful if you could respect that."

"Aight, no problem," Lance said. "Sorry for asking."

"Don't sweat it. So"—he returned back to the topic—"about that advice…"

The two men grinned as they briefly looked at each other.

Robert grinned. "Just relax, man," he said, nudging him with an elbow. "You already have the most important part covered."

"And what's that?"

The archer's grin widened. "You're paying for the drinks."

***

Freddy woke up the following day with a searing headache and a notable gap in his memory. "What the fuck happened, man?" he asked himself but suddenly froze as he heard breathing next to him.

There, he spotted a person. A naked person. A naked female person, to be exact. For a moment, a mix of anxiety and elation bubbled in his gut. Then he felt his stomach rapidly sink as he recognized who it was.

He knew her relatively well, given the previous month of working with her.

Because it was Beatrice, Theodore's ex-wife.