“That’s twice now. You’re better than my employer led me to believe.”
He raised his hand to his neck and wiped the blood away. There on his hand were markings. It was a tattoo. A black depiction of a rose with thorns rising off the petals. It blended into his skin so well that I hadn’t noticed it.
“Lesser heal,” he said.
There was a burst of light from his fingers, motes of light drifted down around his hand, and when he pulled back, his wound was gone. Healed.
“Magic,” I cursed.
“Useful and helps me turn the tables when the game’s stacked against me.”
Not good. I wasn’t expecting to encounter magic. I haven’t stumbled on anyone else who could use it, and I haven’t prepared countermeasures against it.
I didn’t know the extent of magic he could use, or even what types there were. It’d been exceedingly difficult trying to locate anything about magic in Vohra. But at that moment, I really wished I’d tried harder.
The assassin surged toward me with renewed speed. He lunged at me with his knife. I slipped the thrust. As the blade swept past my ribs, the assassin twisted, bringing his leg up. Another feint.
His boot arced toward me, and I stepped back, my foot sliding on a loose roof tile. His feint missed once again. He stepped into his kick and brought his back leg around in a spin kick.
I wasn’t in a good position to dodge it, and my footing was haphazard. When I tried to move, the tile underneath me shifted, and I nearly went sprawling. I righted myself but didn’t have enough time to deflect his kick.
Pain flared to life as his heel connected with my chest and sent me backwards. I was against an incline and on unstable roofing, so I tumbled back and slipped on the tile. I fell back and tried to right myself. I threw myself into a back roll and tried to come to my feet before I fell off the roof.
I rolled and came up as a stiff breeze blew at my back. Wind ruffled my clothing under my leather, and I didn’t even want to think about how close I’d come to falling off another roof.
My knife had come loose from my hands during the roll, and I didn’t have time to search for it. I reached down and drew my short sword.
The assassin stepped up the vaulted roof and slid down the tile to come meet me. He peered around me to the street below and whistled.
“Nearly slipped off. That’d been a waste.”
I levied my sword at the assassin. “If you’re going to keep talking, at least tell me the name of the man I’m about to kill.”
He shrugged and nodded. “Only fair. Elias, was it? I’m known as Rhys. Not my real name, of course, but just as good.”
“You’re the man who came up next to me at the bar. You’ve been waiting for me.”
He chuckled. “Figured you’d pegged me.” Rhys took off his mask and confirmed my suspicions. “Since there’s no use hiding, might as well take this damn thing off.”
Rhys wiggled his knife at me. “While I have you here, I’ve got to know. Why do you not wear a mask to hide your face?”
“Because only cowards hide behind a mask. I’m not afraid of people seeing my face.”
He whistled and shook his head before chuckling.
“You must have some kinda death wish. Guess it’s only fair I oblige you.”
Rhys slashed at me with his knife, aiming low. He tried to catch my femoral artery. I danced back as his blade cut the air in front of my thigh.
As his knife passed by, I stepped forward and sliced a groove down his tricep. The steel bit deep into his flesh, carving a vicious gash as I stepped through. As I cut him, I leaned into my step and brought my knee up. It crashed into his solar plexus with a heavy thud.
He doubled over as he gasped in pain. The air exploded from his lungs, and he tried to stay upright.
I turned and brought my sword down across his back. Blood flashed across my steel, cherry red in the sunlight. Rhys cried out in pain and stumbled to his knees.
Crimson ran in a heavy stream down his back and dripped over the rooftop. The wound was savage, deep, and I’d probably nicked his spine.
He was beaten.
Rhys dropped his knife. Blood coated the handle as it landed in a puddle and slid over the edge. It crashed to the street below with a clang a second later.
He reached a trembling finger back to touch the wound across his back.
“Should’ve brought more men with me.” He laughed, letting his hand drop.
“Wouldn’t have made a difference,” I said and thrust my blade toward his heart.
“Shade’s Rest,” Rhys said.
The air around him stuttered, and his form flickered before he dissolved into shadow and vanished into thin air. One second he was there. The next, he was gone.
What?
My senses on high alert, I turned, keeping my eyes open for any sign of movement or trail he could’ve left.
After a few seconds of nothing, when it was clear I wasn’t going to find anything, I stood.
Rhys was gone.
“Dammit,” I cursed, scanning the streets and other rooftops to see if I could catch a glimpse of the man. But there was no sign.
I don’t like leaving loose ends. But I won’t find him. He’s already disappeared into the streets. And with his magic, he can heal his wounds, so I won’t be able to track him. If I even could with that spell of his.
He’s likely already on his way back to whomever hired him to try and kill me.
Sending assassins after an assassin. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t reminded me of nearly dying at the hands of Marcel and Elizabeth. However, Rhys didn’t hold a candle to them. He was skilled, but not even in the same league as those two.
Rhys may have been gone, but he’d left me with a few very important questions.
I wanted to know who’d hired him and what outfit he was working with. There hadn’t been any news of a group of killers working in the city, so I didn’t have a clue about who he could be working with.
I’ll have to ask Aless and see if she knows anything.
She was smart and knew more about the city than I did by far. If anyone knew anything, it’d be her.
She should be back tonight or tomorrow.
I brushed my hair out of my face and sat down at the edge of the roof.
And I just wanted to get out of the house for a few hours.
I started laughing at the absurd thought and didn’t stop for a good minute or two.
After I stopped laughing, I climbed down off the roof and went to check on Christoff.
He was fine, but he rightfully closed the bar early. I paid him a few more vahn for causing trouble and then left.
I really wanted to go home, but I still had to stop by the shop Angela mentioned and grab my crossbow. That and I would have to take a roundabout way back home when I was finished there.
Rhys was staking out the bar. That much is obvious. Which meant he didn’t know where I lived. He’d have attacked me there instead of such a public place otherwise. I’ll have to make sure I’m not tailed back home.
Following the directions on the parchment, I soon found myself uptown in the Market District, at a rather extravagant looking workshop. Freshly stained wood and dark tinted windows gave the place a very clean appearance. The sign above the door was of an anvil with a hammer and tongs resting on top of it. The name of the shop was labeled simply Jin’s.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside. A stark contrast to Angela’s storefront, this place was spotless. Wood paneled flooring with plush green rugs lined the rows of walkways. The place was a weapons shop, but they were the highest quality weapons I’d seen since coming to this world. And far more ostentatious than I’d ever use.
Silver and gold swords inlaid with precious gems selling for thousands of vahn. There was even a war hammer that was made of solid gold for twenty thousand vahn.
I shuddered at the thought of even touching something that sparkly and made my way around to the U-shaped counter in th
e far corner of the room.
A rather boorish looking man leaned against the counter, reading a book. He looked up when I approached, pushing his glasses further up on his nose.
“May I help you?” he asked.
“Yes, Angie sent me,” I said.
His eyebrows raised for a second before his eyes widened by a fraction. “Yes. He told me to expect you.” He came around the corner and motioned for me to follow. “Please come with me.”
I didn’t like the shop, it made my skin crawl, but I had to get the crossbow, and if Angela trusted this Jin, then I would too. Up to a point.
The man led me to a far corner of the shop and stood in front of a wall. It was a plain, unassuming section of wall, but what stood out was that it was the only open section in the store, the rest of the wall space was dominated by elegant weaponry.
A secret room. Interesting.
As I looked closer, I found the seams where the door was. The man who was, or was not Jin, pulled a small, golden key from the pocket of his well-tailored vest and slid it into a slot that just looked like a mark on the wall. If I hadn’t known what to look for, I’d have never noticed it.
The secret door slid open without a sound, and the man who I now suspected wasn’t the owner of the shop beckoned me forward.
“Jin is waiting for you downstairs,” he said tersely.
Well, that answers my question.
The man was brusque, but I didn’t get any nefarious vibes from him. From the glances he kept stealing at the counter, I honestly suspected him of nothing more than wanting to get back to his book.
I nodded my thanks and stepped down into the basement. My hands were poised over my throwing knives, ready to slaughter everyone if this turned into a trap.
Though whether from my keenly honed senses from years of this line of work or because of the boost the status magic was giving my intuition, I didn’t get any bad vibes from this place. The telltale shiver that usually crawled up my spine when things were about to go south was absent.
With that in mind, I marched down the wooden steps and entered a lavish workshop.
If the storefront upstairs had been ostentatious, it paled next to the ridiculous level of extravagance in the basement. The floor was dark mahogany wood, as were the walls. Intricate gold and silver candelabras hung on the walls and from the rather high ceiling, but instead of flames, there were crystals that lit up the room in soft golden light.
Arrayed in neat and precise fashion were a number of workstations, lathes, and all manner of tools. All in their proper place around the room.
A neat freak. Just like me, it seems.
The man who had to be Jin stood against the far wall, his back to me. He had a shaggy mane of thick, black hair that stuck up at odd angles, and he wore fine, black silk clothing under an apron and belt with an array of tools on it. He hummed as he worked, but it was lower, guttural, almost like a cat’s purr.
I waited for half a minute for the man to turn around, and when he failed to do so, I cleared my throat.
“Just a second, please be patient. I know you’re there,” he said in a rich voice that held a haughty tone to the end of his words.
With nothing else to do but wait, I leaned against one of the wooden support beams and waited. It took Jin around fifteen minutes before he let out a sigh of relief, rolling his shoulders back and forth before turning around.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, but I don’t like to interrupt my work,” Jin said as he turned around.
As soon as I saw his face, I knew he wasn’t human.
He had a thin, pointed face, shallow cheekbones and wide, inhuman eyes. They burned bright orange and were nictitating, slitted pupils like a cat’s eyes. I also realized that his hair wasn’t messy. He had two triangular cat ears sticking up that blended into his dark mane.
He noticed my surprise and chuckled. “I’m guessing you’ve never seen a nekojin before, have you?”
I shook my head, trying to compose myself. “You’d be the first.” I paused. “Nekojin? I thought the only other race besides humans were the Beastkin?”
He nodded. “That’s technically correct, but there are vast subspecies within the Beastkin race. My kind are one such race—the nekojin, or if you’re rude, cat-people.
“My name is Jin. Nice to meet you.”
I chuckled. “Jin the nekojin? That’s not your real name, is it?”
His fiery eyes lit up with humor. “Afraid it is. My parents are not the most creative people, which is ironic given my current profession.”
“Right, Angela said you were a master craftsman.”
He waved me off. “Angie, always the flatterer, love that woman, but we’re not here to talk about her, are we?
“You’re here for your crossbow.”
Jin’s eyes lit up wide as he spoke and turned to me, and I could’ve sworn his eyes were literally alight with flames.
“Your design was truly spectacular. I’ve never seen its like before.”
Well, that’s because it’s a design from Earth. I imagine you wouldn’t have. But I couldn’t tell him that, so I stayed silent.
He glanced at me with a sheepish look on his face, almost admonished. “I hope you don’t mind, but after I saw the design, I was inspired and made a few adjustments.” He held his hands up quickly. “I’ve made it better, also using much lighter materials. Trust me. You’re going to love it.”
Jin walked over to a workbench in the far corner where a small tarp concealed what could only be my crossbow. He beckoned me over and removed the tarp, revealing my weapon.
It wasn’t what I was expecting.
The small hand crossbow was rather ostentatious, like the rest of the pieces I’d seen so far. It was mostly metal, though a kind I’d never seen before. The handle was of a polished cherry while the foregrip and limbs were forged of a silver white metal. The foregrip, the crossbow's main body, was bowed, shortening the entire weapon so that it wasn’t much longer than the flintlocks I’d used back home.
“It’s rather pretty for a weapon, isn’t it?”
Jin looked at me and back at the weapon. “Ah, yes, I can see how it doesn’t exactly suit your current…aesthetic. But have no fear, I can swiftly remedy that. But first, let me explain how it works and the changes I’ve made to it.”
“Please, it’s not exactly what I was expecting when I placed the order.”
In fact, it barely looked like the crossbows I was used to at all. It was sleek and elegant, but there was still a deadliness to it.
“Ah yes, instead of wood for the base, I used manasteel, a rare and rather expensive alloy, but I think it’s worth it. It’s created by a mage pouring their mana into the steel itself, hence the name. The metal is lighter and far more flexible than wood or normal steel.
“I also tweaked the cocking stirrup and added my own design to it, using more mana steel.”
He pointed at a spot just above the handle where a T-shaped contraption sat. Jin wrapped two fingers around it and pulled. As he did, the crossbow's silver strings pulled back and latched, waiting for a quarrel to be loaded.
But he loaded it in a couple of seconds. Far faster than any crossbow I’d ever wielded.
“All you have to do is pull back on the charging handle to prime the crossbow and load a bolt.” He picked one up. It was silver, made of the same material as the hand crossbow itself. Jin turned, loaded the bolt, and aimed at a wooden target on the opposite wall and fired.
The crossbow barked a heavy cough, and the metal quarrel slammed into the center of the target and punched through it completely, burying itself in the wall behind it.
“As you can see, I’ve improved the weapon in nearly every function. The bolts can pierce all but the thickest of armor with ease.”
I was impressed, beyond impressed. Amazed would have been a more apt word.
He smiled at me and held the bow up once more. “And it even folds up.” He ran his fingers along the foregrip until he rea
ched a small lever by the limbs of the crossbow. He flicked it, and the limbs folded in on themselves, laying nearly flush with the foregrip. Only the wooden handle stuck out.
In the closed position, it looked even more like a pistol from my world.
Though this just might be on par with a flintlock. It may not have the same range, but I’m betting it’s far more accurate and a hell of a lot quieter too.
Jin took the folded crossbow and stored it in a leather holster, which was obviously designed for it. “You can unfold it with a flick of the wrist and just flick the lever to lock it in place.
“If you’ll give me an hour, I can whip up a dark paint that will conceal the shiny bits.”
“Thanks, Jin,” I said. “How much do I owe you?”
He laughed. “Oh, I’m not going to charge you. You’d owe me at least five thousand vahn for this and the bolts, probably more.
“Since I took the initiative and did all this myself, it’d be wrong to charge you, but instead, how about you let me sell this design to some of my clients. I know they’d be highly interested.”
I scratched my chin. “Honestly, I’d rather pay you the coin and keep the design for myself. Something like that in the wrong hands would probably change a lot of things for the worse around here. You can’t tell me it wouldn’t.”
I really don’t want to change the world with items like this, and I’d really rather not have my enemies armed with better weaponry. Just thinking about the assassin who attacked me earlier armed with a weapon like this sent shivers down my spine.
Jin paused at that, looking away in contemplation. After a time, he sighed and nodded. “You’re probably right, and my clients aren’t exactly upstanding paragons of morality. They’re, well, people much like yourself, Mr. McKinley.
“So, as much as I hate keeping something like this locked away, I can agree to your request, though it pains me to do so.”
“Thank you, though. I don’t exactly have the vahn to pay you right now. Would you accept payments?”
“Of course. Angie vouched for you, and she doesn’t do that often.” He shook my hand and turned back to his workbench. “Now, I’m going to get to work painting my masterpiece. You can wait upstairs. I shouldn’t be long.”
Isekai Assassin: Volume 1 Page 27