Chapter-7 Stake Out

After the day passed and night fell, Daemon decided this was the perfect time to investigate the village further. His goal was to uncover more about the upcoming harvest and the Iron Chain Cartel. He believed that if he could find out what was happening, he could gain some fear points and find a way to make it to the nearest city more easily.

However before going on his investigation, he decided to use his fear points to boost his abilities.

"So, with attribute points, I get stronger... Five hundred fear points can be traded for ten attribute points, so fifty fear points can be traded in for one point," Daemon muttered, examining the system a little more. "Let's do it."

-For trading 500 fear points, you gained ten attribute points.-

-Daemon Corvus-

-Strength: 85/100-

-Agility: 90/100-

-Endurance: 80/100-

-Intelligence: 100/100-

-Charisma: 100/100-

-Death Manipulation: 60/100-

-Fear Points: 75-

-Attribute points: 10-

-Abilities: Leech, Eternal Rebirth-

With a black and silver eerie template of all his stats and attributes appearing in his mind, Daemon considered his next move. 'Right now, I already have two abilities. I should focus on my strength, agility, and endurance,' he thought. "Five strength, three agility, and two endurance currently will be perfect," he muttered.

After confirming the points allocation, Daemon felt a surge of death energy flowing through his body. His muscles bulged slightly before returning to its normal state he noticed his vision sharpened, making time seem to slow down a little, but he knew he was still not at his full potential.

'With this new strength, it will be easier to take care of more cartel members alone,' Daemon thought before walking off.

He needed those fear points, ever since he had awakened to this twisted second life, the fear points had become his lifeline. Not only did they make him stronger, but they also brought him closer to understanding the extent of his death manipulation abilities.

Also the cartel's operations seemed like the perfect opportunity to stock up on fear points and gain valuable intel.

...

After a couple minutes of walking to another part of the village, he found the perfect place to gather information as it had villager wobbling as they helped each other it was a tavern bustling with activity. Villagers having finished their day's work, flocked there to relieve their stress.

As he entered the tavern, it was alive with the clinking of glasses and the low murmur of conversation. Daemon sat at the bar, his eyes sharp, scanned the room for anything suspicious.

He decided to order a drink to blend in.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a group of rough-looking men and a woman huddled together in a dimly lit corner. With his enhanced senses passed a normal human, he could hear them speaking in hushed tones despite the noisy environment.

Daemon decided to move closer to the group, choosing a table a few spots away. His eyes flickered toward the cartel members occasionally, while he sipped his drink slowly, blending into the background and listening intently to their conversation.

One of the men slammed his drink onto the table. "Can't believe we lost three guys already. That freak left them hanging like damn art pieces," he grumbled.

"Yeah that freak left them hanging like damn art pieces." a women in the group replied. "The boss ain't happy. He thinks someone in the village is trying to mess with our operations."

"We need to find out who did it," a second man said his voice filled with anger. "Before they strike again."

The woman nodded. "Yeah. it's bad for business. But we got new orders. We're grabbing a couple of fresh ones from here tonight. Boss wants a quick turnaround."

Daemon eye perked up. 'There is even a boss with them hear I thought there will be only low level members...this might be more complicated than I thought.' he thought.

How many cartel members are here already?

He continued to listen.

"This place is perfect. No one pays attention. We'll have them out before anyone notices," second man laughed.

Daemon's eyes narrowed slightly. He finished his drink and quietly stood, moving with a predator's grace. He edged closer, blending near their table, his presence unnoticed.

The first man leaned forward. "We'll take the back exit. Less chance of being seen. Make sure the gear is ready."

The second man nodded. "We move in fifteen. You grab the targets, and we'll cover you."

Daemon watched as the woman approached two men who were drunk and talking to each other like friends. She started seducing them, and they got up after a couple of moments, easily swayed by her beauty as she was more beautiful than most women from the village also their drunk state.

"Now I just have to follow them," Daemon muttered.

Daemon slipped out of the tavern quietly, his movements fluid and silent. Outside, he positioned himself strategically near the back exit, concealed by the shadows. He waited, his breathing steady to not make to much noise and his mind was focused.

The cartel members exited the tavern. A few moments later, the woman and the two drunk men also came out. Before they could react, the two cartel members knocked the drunk men out with a pistol to their head.

"Tie them up quickly before anyone else comes out," the first man ordered.

At that same moment, another drunk man walked out the door. What he saw shocked him, but before he could scream or run, the woman moved up to him and stabbed him in the gut while covering his mouth. The man struggled trying to push the woman away, but he grew weak quickly an his drunkenness also played a part and eventually he dropped down as the woman twisted the knife in his body to finish him off.

"Damn it! This will bring more attention to us," one man said, continuing to tie up the unconscious men.

"Maybe they'll think it's the freak who killed our members," the second man suggested.

The woman didn't answer but focused on tying up the men before lifting them onto their shoulders and walking into an alley.

Daemon's eyes narrowed, a cold gleam. 'They're willing to kill to kidnap... Fine,' he mused. 'If they want to blame me for that man's death, so be it. I won't lose any sleep over it.'

Daemon moved swiftly through the alleyways, his eyes fixed on their every move still keeping a safe distance as the men, still wary, rushed towards their base. He followed their trail closely, ensuring not to lose them. The men exited the village, entering a nondescript house whose facade blended seamlessly with the surrounding urban decay. Daemon slipped into the shadows across the street, watching as they disappeared inside.

'I never saw this house before... Did the detectives search it and find nothing?' Daemon thought.

He waited a moment, ensuring they were settled before making his move. With the silence of a predator, Daemon crossed the street and approached the building. He checked the perimeter for cameras or other cartel members, calculating the best approach. He chose a side entrance through an old window.

Inside was a open ground hatch when he went down the building was like a labyrinth of corridors and rooms. Daemon moved through them like a ghost, following the faint sounds of the men, tracking them deeper into the house.

'Why didn't the detectives find this?' he wondered.

As he turned a corner, he found himself in a dimly lit hallway with multiple branching paths. The sounds he had been following suddenly dissipated, leaving him momentarily disoriented. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had lost the trail.

"Damn it. They must have taken a hidden route," Daemon muttered to himself. 'The best thing to do right now is find some information about the base and if there are any kidnapped people here,' he thought.

As Daemon moved on forward he spotted a captive villager in a room her eyes wide with fear their gaze meets, and Daemon for some reason he saw his own reflection staring back at him, haunted, hollow during the only night of his capture being bound to a chair.

The villager eyes looked like it pleaded for mercy, begging for escape.

Daemon hesitates. 'She doesn't deserve this...but if she escape then it will be know that someone found there base' he though for a moment torn between compassion and self-preservation after a few moment his eye darken and he walked forward out the room.

After a minute Daemon found a room that appeared to be an office. Inside, a computer terminal glowed softly. 'They even brought tech here,' he thought.

He moved quickly to the computer, checking for any useful information. He downloaded files and emails, anything that might provide a lead on the cartel's activities and their next moves. As he worked, he noticed the year displayed on the computer: 2253.

"It's 2253 I died in 2251... I've been dead for two years. I thought..." Daemon spoke aloud, his voice barely a whisper.

A sudden noise from the hallway alerted him. Footsteps, growing louder and closer. Daemon finished the download and slipped out of the room, melting back into the shadows just as a group of armed men passed by. He watched them go.

'I've overstayed my welcome,' he thought.

Deciding to retreat for now, Daemon exited the building the way he had come. He moved swiftly and silently, retracing his steps through the alleyways and back towards the village. The information he had gathered could be crucial in uncovering the full extent of the cartel's operations and finding the kidnapped villagers. For now, he needed to regroup and plan his next move.