Capítulo 48: Dicunt enim me odisse-XXXXVIII
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DATE:29th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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Apparently SuperiorWoman delayed the mission to the next Saturday. Makes sense, me and Alice are just recovering from two days ago.
I didn't inform the changeling about what we will do. I figured it didn't matter. Also, if she really did infiltrate the HQ she already knew.
I am still surprised the Professor agreed to install the cameras on my Hao suit. He really hates competition.
I started practicing with Emily. I didn't need to test the drug release. The professor provided me with ten vials to replace the one inside me.
No, we needed to coordinate with the cameras. Emily could see through all of them, ten on my body and four on my mask at the same time, but her precision was still lacking. She wasn't made for this.____
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DATE:30th of June, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I was going for a walk to get some fresh tea when Emily informs me about that investigation on Blazer. I wonder where she got the idea that I actually cared about these news.
Anyway, she said the court decreed his arrest, something very usual considering his status and wealth. Not surprising, he dissapeared right after that.
Damos the Comedian also made his first appearance in a while.
For the past few days there have been protest about the Quartz Security agency, one of the large civil militia doing the part of policemen. I think the ones I met were part of it. There have been news reports about them assaulting without reason people who they suspect as criminals. Their "defense strategy" is to arrest and ask questions later. I wouldn't say it's wrong considering how many people are armed these days, but I suppose it doesn't earn them a good reputation.
On the other hand, their profits are through the roof. The recent attacks done by Secundo Manus showed the lack of security Even in the factory is owned by Matthew and Silvian Morris. I personally don't think their presents would have changed anything but whatever. Anyway, they got a bunch of contracts to please their shareholders.
Right where I was getting?
They have police stations, or better Milita stations? Bases of operation.
People have been protesting in front of some of them in the past few days. I didn't think much of it as there are many protests in Concord, but yesterday at about 12 pm A few of the largest ones just exploded. They literally got destroyed, only debris remained.
The only villain who can do that is Damos. At least that is what Emily told me, but I trust her. I'm surprised the comedian didn't try to show up on TV to brag about what he has done. That was a common occurrence in the past, in fact it is the way I heard of him.
Something must have happened in the prison, something that grizzled even this pathetic criminal. I usually don't bother but I have a person I think against Damos. He is one of those self titled "psychopaths". I saw it in a book he wrote himself.
I don't really agree with his "title", because these powers are something you stumble on at random, and I doubt he was this narcissist this so was to think humans were below him before he got the ability. But who knows. Maybe he is one of the first awakeners. He does say that in a book but I don't trust it.
One would normally think it is a show of confidence to not even take into account that threat others pose, but I only see it as foolishness. Even the comedian got imprisoned. Hell, UltraMan could have killed him at any time. This question about him not doing so out of some moral obligation is also false. It is not officially stated but I am sure that Kevin killed some of his villains. Him not doing so to Damos to meant that either there were cameras present or he took pity on him.
Neither of those are admirable._____
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DATE:1st of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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The TV buzzed softly in the background, its anchor's voice cutting through the monotonous rhythm of my day.
"In today's news, authorities are still struggling to locate the infamous Blazer," the reporter stated, her tone professional but laced with frustration. Behind her, grainy footage of the masked speedster leaving a burning warehouse played on loop. "The former superhero, known for his devastating speed and fiery attacks, remains at large. Despite extensive search efforts, Royal Investigators have yet to determine his current whereabouts." If we have to depend on the Royal investigators then it is already kind of over. In the first place I'm not sure that BubbleTV is aware of the fact that Royal investigators are only Concord thing. The rest of the unified Kingdom has actual police. I suppose this could just be a confusion and they are working with the police, but I have a feeling that is not the case. The Royal Governor doesn't seem like the kinds to work with others. At the same time there is no confirmation that he even controls the Royal investigators or anything for that matter so it is a real mystery.
The scene shifted to a map displaying Ventia and Aberon, highlighting areas marked with red circles.
"Unconfirmed reports suggest Blazer may have fled to Ventia," the reporter continued, her voice rising slightly with intrigue. "However, others speculate he might be hiding in Aberon, where his powers would allow him to evade detection more easily. Both regions have increased surveillance, but Blazer's unmatched speed makes pinpointing him a daunting task."
The screen cut to a frustrated police chief addressing the media. "Blazer is a dangerous individual, and we urge the public to remain vigilant. If you see anything unusual, report it immediately."
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a low sigh. "Of course they can't catch him," I muttered to myself. I didn't care much about Blazer or his antics. But with nothing else to occupy my time, I found myself half-listening, the noise filling the silence of the room.
Alice walked in and gave me a quick salute, her usual playful gesture. Without a word, she headed to the bedroom to change, leaving me to my thoughts. I stayed glued to the couch, watching the news. It was strange—this aimlessness. I wasn't used to it. Even during my mercenary days, there was a rhythm to the chaos: job, blood, then a feeble attempt at vacation to pretend the horrors didn't exist.
The news anchor's voice drew me back to the screen.
"Blazer's financial empire continues to crumble," she reported, her expression neutral but with a faint undertone of satisfaction. "Authorities have confirmed that his funds remain frozen, though sources indicate he's actively attempting to smuggle what remains out of the city. These include assets tied to his four luxury mansions, a personal helicopter, seven high-end supercars, and extensive bank deposits."
The screen displayed footage of a convoy being raided—officers hauling briefcases full of cash.
"Approximately ninety percent of his wealth has already been seized by the Royal Governor," the anchor continued, "and redirected to a public improvement fund."
A graphic popped up showing a vague outline of "City Development Projects," but there was no elaboration.
"However," she added, her tone turning slightly critical, "the exact details of how these funds will be used remain unclear. The public has demanded transparency, but so far, no formal plans have been disclosed."
I scoffed. Of course. Classic government move—use a villain as a scapegoat while quietly pocketing the rest. Alice walked back into the room, now in more comfortable clothes, drying her hair with a towel.
"Anything interesting?" she asked, nodding toward the TV.
"Just the usual," I replied, gesturing lazily at the screen. "They stole from a thief and are keeping it all vague."
She chuckled softly. "Sounds like a good deal for them."
"Yeah," I muttered, sinking deeper into the couch. "For them."
As she was holding on to my arm I felt something strange. It felt like Alice, but.... Her skin was cold.
No, it was at a normal temperature, but when I held her hand, if I squeezed it I could feel something cold underneath.
I looked at her face while my face turned to stone. It couldn't be.
I raised from the couch, moving her hand away and went to my backpack, taking out the tazer. I haven't used it in a while.
While Alice was still looking at the TV, I activated the device and pressed it against her neck.
The moment I pressed the taser against her, it was like unleashing a storm. The device discharged with a sharp, violent crackle, sending a jolt far more potent than any commercial taser could deliver. Her body convulsed instantly, as though every muscle locked in rebellion. Her scream was cut short by the sheer force of it, replaced by a strained, guttural sound.
She tried to stand, but instead collapsed to the floor, her limbs twitching uncontrollably as the surge overwhelmed her nervous system. The intensity left her gasping, her chest heaving as though she were fighting for control of her own body. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to focus, and I could see the pain etched on her face. The high-powered taser had done its job, but it had done so with brutal efficiency.
For a moment, she lay there, her body shuddering in residual spasms. Her breaths were shallow and ragged, her movements weak and uncoordinated. She tried to push herself up but couldn't; the power of the device had drained every ounce of strength from her.
"What the fuck you bitch?" I was quite cold. I didn't think it affected me so much.
Not much later her transformation began to unfold. At first, I thought it was just the residual spasms from the taser, but then her skin started to ripple unnaturally. It wasn't just twitching—it was *changing.*
Her flesh seemed to bubble, shifting and stretching like molten wax. The color drained from her face, replaced by an unsettling translucent sheen. I stared, unbothered by the grotesque transformation unraveling before my eyes. Her hands clawed at the ground, and as they did, her fingernails elongated and snapped off, replaced by shorter, finer ones. Her hair, long and dark, began to shrink and brighten, the strands transforming into a vibrant pink.
Her skin, once smooth, became speckled with freckles, scattering across her nose and cheeks like a painter's splatter. Her eyes opened wide, their color bleeding away until only a vivid pink remained, glowing faintly in the dim light. The woman on the floor was no longer the person I'd known—or thought I'd known.
I take a step back, not giving her any chance to make me stumble. She—or rather, *it*—finally stopped writhing, her body now eerily still. The new face stared up at me, her pink eyes piercing into mine with a mixture of fury and something almost... amused.
"Well," she said, her voice completely different—lighter, more mocking—"guess the game's up, huh?"
"Should I just kill you? This was seriously messed up Sophie."
She got on her knees with a wide smile.
"Shouldn't I kill you? When were you going to tell me about going to take down the Donn?" Riiight. I didn't expect her to act.
"It's still a week left, I don't get why you are so worked up about it."
"It's not about the time. You would have never told me. Don't try to lie." She raised on her feet and tried to approach me, but I flickered on the tazer just to warn her. She kept her false confidence, but I could feel she... He? Was scared of my device. She was scared of violence, or better said pain.
" Look, I know how you think."
" You do?" No, that was amusing.
" Yeah." She crossed her arms and gave me a smug look.
" I in fact know you better than your girlfriend."
" Get to the point."
" Right, so this was another one of your tests! You wanted to see if I would betray you, but It was useless from the start. I already told you I infiltrated the HQ so I could have told him anytime if that was true."
" Sure, but you are in fact wrong about it."
" Hmm." She raised her arm, holding her small, elf like chin.
" You're overthinking it. If you really did infiltrate the HQ then there was no point in me telling you anything. You would just go there yourself.
You were never a team player, don't pretend to be one now."
" Ouch! That actually hurt hubby." I flickered the taser again.
" Clean this mess and leave. I'm not dealing with you right now."
" What else do you have to do? I-" My glare didn't let her continue. After asking for a broom she started pulling her fallen nails and hair in a pile. I found it disgusting, how this... Thing acted like a pig.
I was called a walking corpse, by Alice's mother a " toy", but I at least had my dignity. The way she bent her ass just to spite me spoke more of her messed up way of life than anything.
I should tell Alice the Changeling probably put a microphone in her bed. Naah, I should find it myself. No need for a misunderstanding.
Wait... Why even bother going so far?
Still bent on the floor, I pressed the taser against her and fired it up, making her recoil in shock.
" What the fuck!?"
" No fucking." I don't think she appreciated my banter.
" Take your microphone out of the bedroom."
".... What?" Is she trying to play naive?
" You heard me."
"....there is no microphone."
" You said you know me, but I also know you. I know how much pain you can endure."
"Ahn, you know my pain~?" I zapped her again, pressing her down with the taser.
Eventually, under my direct eye she removed the small microphone she inserted in the drawer. I have no way to really make sure if she put any more, unless....
I zapped her again without any warning.
I did so until she removed two more microphones and a small camera.
By that point she was crying. Not some pitty fitt of howling. She was sobbing actual tears while I was eyeing her devices. My disgust was clear.
Who the hell does he think he is? The changeling believe "it" knows me, or it is just some false statement. But I don't think so.
She acts too confident for it to be a lie. She knows what I am capable of and yet she tries to do this nonsense?
She was shaking, actually shaking. Not to impress me, she actually looked in pain. I am sure the Changeling was abused at some point. This is certainly the reason for not using it's real body. She does pretend to know me, but she isn't the first victim of sexual assault I interracted with.
I had this mission at an orphanage, it was to protect a certain gangster's daughter who was hiding there from their rivals and I had to go undercover as a caretaker, but... I won't go into detail.
There was one girl similar to what the changeling went through. I'll just leave it at that. I remember her face and she shaked the same way as this thing before me. One would then say they are related, but that isn't the case. I saw her die before me and for once it wasn't me who did it. I cared about her. I never got to take revenge on her killer, he was also part of Balmundi. Screw those people.
I it all felt so meaningless, looking at her wincing in pain. I couldn't relate to her.
I had so much torture inside my mind I couldn't believe having trauma flashback from just a little shock.
I have been "killed" by electrocution multiple times.
I have been hurt in those nightmares by everything that is possible. Only since I met Emily did they get somewhat original. Not even then.
'You really think you know me?' was a sentence I didn't say, but could be obviously read from my eyes. I am sure she put it out herself.
What the hell was she thinking about putting a camera and microphones in this room? In the best case circumstance sh wanted to masturbate to it. In the worst case... I don't need to spell it.
That was when I heard a click at the door, The real Alice stumbling to put her keys in the lock.
A real bummer. I looked at the changeling, serious.
"I won't mention the microphones to Alice, but don't you dare create a misunderstanding-" I don't let her get any ideas.
"Alice will kill you. I am not kidding." Seems like she got what I meant. For once Sophie had a serious expression, but that could also be the scare from earlier.
This is an out of place situation no matter how you put it and giving a convincing excuse would be hard. My usual lies only work because Alice chooses to look past them. This is probably the same technique that led to her only now finding out about her father's crimes. More likely that she just didn't want to accept the reality. She is smart enough to look right past me.
And strangely it worked.
It was better that she didn't see me with Sophie back at the casino like Sarah did.
I presented Sophie as a partner I used to have back when I was a freelancer photographer. I knew she would eventually find out if Sophie went with us to Ventia so I also informed her she has the ability to disguise as someone else. I explained how she was hurt by the Donn, how he killed her family and wanted to get revenge.
Alice was skeptical until I bluffed that the woman on the floor, having visibly cried was a lesbian. After that she brightened up and beamed about how we will work together. So childish. I don't get why she chooses to believe me so easily. Does she actually think I am related to her former mentor? Is that the why she trusts me?
In any case, it worked and Sophie finally left, leaving me to throw away her pile of nails and dispose of the surveillance devices. I unmuted Emily's earpiece and she also started asking me about my history with that woman. She had been curious ever since the casino but I didn't want to deal with it right now so I muted her again.
Sophie isn't interesting.____
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DATE:5th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Taurinorum, Piemontis
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Friday morning came, and Alice and I boarded our plane to Ventia. The mission was simple: go undercover, spend a night at the hotel, and strike at Don Vincenzio's compound the next day. We would stay in the regional capital of Piemontis, Taurinorum. I've been to the city before, although for a short while.
This is one of the few disputed regions between the mafia. Probably due to its adjacency to Concord. I suppose this is exactly why The Donn chose it. It was both close and would take away prying eyes. No one would expect such a balant choice.
At least, that was the plan. Alice seemed to see things differently.
While I was focused on logistics—studying maps of the area and double-checking the gear—she treated it more like a vacation. She was practically giddy as we landed, gushing about how much she loved the charm of Piemontis. She marveled at the picturesque streets, the weather, and the centuries-old architecture.
I didn't get it.
Ventia was my home once, a lifetime ago. To me, the beauty she saw was just a façade—a thin veneer over a country steeped in rot. The narrow cobblestone alleys weren't charming; they were where deals went down in the dark. The grand palazzos weren't impressive; they were monuments to corruption, built on the backs of the desperate.
As we walked through the city streets toward the hotel, her excitement only grew. "Look at this!" she exclaimed, pointing at a café with an elaborate vine-covered terrace. "It's like stepping into another time."
I glanced at it, unimpressed. "Yeah, another time where you could buy someone's loyalty for a few coins." That was an exhageration. Ventians had a system of tribal allegiance for the villages that they are born from, something that precedes even gang loyalty.
She frowned at me. "You're so cynical."
"Just realistic," I replied, shrugging. "I've been here before. They aren't nice people."
She sighed but didn't press the issue. Maybe she thought I'd warm up to the place, but I knew better. Ventia hadn't changed. Its heart was still as putrid as I remembered.
I took her hand, leading her away from the bustling streets to a more secluded spot I knew well. Years of experience taught me how to pick places like this—a quiet, high-quality gem that wouldn't draw too much attention.
The restaurant was essentially a terrace attached to someone's house, modest yet welcoming. The atmosphere was intimate, with ivy climbing the walls and soft lantern light spilling onto the cobblestones. It was the kind of place locals kept to themselves, far removed from the tourist traps Alice might have otherwise stumbled into.
We ordered Agnolotti del Plin, a dish I knew she'd appreciate.
"These are incredible," Alice said, delicately cutting into the pasta.
"Small, delicate, and perfect," I remarked, watching her as she took her first bite.
She smiled between bites. "What does 'plin' mean?"
"'Pinch.' It's how they seal the pasta shut," I explained. "Traditionally, they're filled with roasted meat or vegetables. This one is in a butter and sage sauce. Simple, but it doesn't need to be anything more."
Alice tilted her head, looking at me with a curious smile. "You're oddly poetic about food."
I shrugged, stabbing a piece with my fork. "When you've had years of eating trash in the field, you learn to appreciate real cooking when you find it."
She chuckled, sipping her wine. "You're full of surprises."
I let her think that. Better she focused on the charm of the moment than the reality beneath the surface—the memories this place dredged up for me, or the reason we were here.
The streets were already shifting into their nocturnal rhythm as I led Alice back to the hotel. Ventia didn't change—it never would. As much as its beauty charmed outsiders, its underbelly was as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Thieves posing as police officers conducting "inspections" at night? That was just another Tuesday here. I wasn't going to risk us running into any trouble, especially not while trying to keep a low profile.
Back in the hotel, the room was quiet and cool, a stark contrast to the restless city outside. Alice tossed her bag on the chair and stretched, her movements unguarded, as if the tension of the day melted away with the door's lock clicking shut.
We spent a long night together, one of those rare moments where time seemed to stretch endlessly. Maybe it was the wine or the quiet intimacy of being in a place far from home, but she was softer tonight, less guarded.
For a few hours, it was as if nothing else mattered. No missions, no targets, no past. Just us, in the fleeting illusion of peace.
Tomorrow I would write off another of my worries. The Donn had to die.-*-*-*-*
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