[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 197 - Disobedience

When she turned twelve, that was the first time Emily participated in her family’s main business. She had heard that they killed people. Known it for as long as she could crawl. Seen it. Heard it. Lived her role as a future assassin. 

But it was a different thing to be sent out and tasked with taking a life.

Even so young, she had no trouble completing her task. Her training was thorough, and even as her hidden blade slit the throat of the rogue serial killer, she felt nothing but relief at having succeeded at her task. 

And still, she hadn’t slept that night. Nor the night after. And when she did, she dreamt her guilt, the same that had been pushed so far into the depths of her mind. 

A month and four completed missions later, she found herself sparring with her father. 

He was a wiry man, with lithe muscles packed with unfathomable power. His night black hair draped down his broad back and his red eyes bore a hole right through Emily, a playful smile on his lips. His legs were tied together. His arms were held behind his back. His body was shackled with chains weighing tons. 

Emily rushed him, swinging a dagger at his head. Despite the numerous restrictions, he moved out of the way with absolute ease, swinging and bouncing around her attacks as if he were a feather carried by the wind. 

From anyone’s perspective, Emily’s form was impeccable, her swings precise and measures, aiming exactly where they needed to go. But her father’s playful smile rotted away, turning into a disgruntled frown. “I’ve seen enough,” he said as he bit the hem of her shirt, swinging her body around and slamming her into the ground, where he moved his left foot to clamp her wrist down. 

She growled and tried fighting her way out, but her father wasn’t holding back. He had aborted their spar, and she groaned. “What did I mess up now?”

“Your mind is cluttered,” he said. “Your predatory instinct is dull. I don’t feel even a shadow of fear at your hunt.” His gaze intensified, making her shrivel and look away. “What is on your mind?”

She held her tongue, biting her lips and remaining silent, but her father’s gaze never moved off her for a second. She withered under it, and before long, the question that had been gnawing away at her escaped her lips unprompted. “Why do we kill people?” she whispered. 

Emily knew her father well. He didn’t tolerate weakness. Especially mental weakness. As the question left her mouth, she tensed, fearing what kind of punishment she’d receive. Would he send her on more missions? Lock her away in a dungeon? Double, or triple her training? 

To her surprise, however, the playful smile returned to his lips instead. “I was getting worried you’d never ask.” Releasing her wrist, he tensed, breaking out of the numerous layers of chains. They cluttered to the ground with an ear-piercing crash, shattering the stone floor on contact. He flexed his upper body, loosening his shoulders and stretching them above his head. 

Emily was paralyzed, her mind reeling in confusion.

Her father suddenly stopped as he turned around and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to follow me or not?”

“Y-yes, Father,” she said as she got to her feet and ran up to him. 

They slowly made their way out of their headquarters, and before long, they were walking out on the city streets, mingling with the pedestrians. It was late afternoon—but to the two of them, it was basically morning, as Emily had woken up about an hour prior. 

They stood out like a sore thumb in their black training clothes, but her father didn’t mind it one bit. In fact, he often encouraged their members to show their faces in public as much as humanly possible. It was no good for their group to act as a bunch of recluses. It was better for the common folk to be used to their existence.

They walked on and on, eventually finding themselves in a suburban neighborhood. 

There, her father instructed her to leap into a tree, where they hid high up among the branches, seamlessly blending into the shade of the canopy. 

It was a boisterous part of the neighborhood, the place they were hiding. Children were running along a nearby playground, couples were walking their dogs in the park behind them. The street below was bursting with humanity, as many commuted home from a long day of work, mainly by foot. 

Rather than say anything, her father was seemingly content to just sit there in silence. Was he waiting for her to ask some kind of question? She doubted it. He was the kind of person who let people know what they needed to know; otherwise, he kept his mouth shut. 

A bit confused and more than a little impatient, she took a deep breath to calm herself as she focused on her surroundings. Her father had brought her here for a reason. 

And she guessed it was her job to figure it out.

The tree itself was plain and unassuming, with nothing unusual about it. She looked over every leaf, speculating a message might be written on one—her father was no stranger to giving out small puzzles like that—but she found nothing. 

So it had to be something about the settlement around them. She eyed the buildings, finding every window on every house and apartment, analyzing, observing, looking for a clue. She pursued her task relentlessly, only stopping when her eyes stumbled upon a careless couple who didn’t bother to close the window before getting… intimate. 

Her cheeks blushed and she gritted her teeth. It had to be the people then. She committed every face she saw to memory; every passerby and their dog were carefully logged in a meticulously constructed memory palace in her mind. 

Were they hunting a specific target? If so, who would they be looking for? Would they be catching someone in the act?

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked over to the playground. 

Don’t tell me… a pervert!? 

But alas, she spotted no weirdos stalking the children on the playground. 

After scouring her surroundings to the point where she got a headache, she finally felt herself slowly giving up. Her attention shifted to a different kind of observation. Rather than the details, she allowed her mind to pull back, and she gazed upon the gestalt slice of society around her.

It was an ordinary sight to the average civilian, and a strange, foreign world to her. People were relaxing and taking it easy, spending time with family, friends, lovers, and by themselves. Seated on a bench, there was an old man reading a newspaper, right beside two teenagers in school uniforms, chatting away about how their professor embarrassed himself earlier that day. 

Walking past them were a man and a woman pushing a stroller with twins, a leashed old dog slowly following along. The father held the hand of a young son, who was about eight years old, as they approached the playground, where the kid was allowed to run free and play. 

Eventually, the world around her grew duller as her mind gradually locked on the playground. She didn’t even notice how focused she was on it compared to everywhere else, and if her father did, he didn’t comment on it. 

It was a bitter sight to her. Perhaps deep down, she had an urge to be among those kids, but those thoughts were pushed aside by a lifetime of conditioning. Instead, all she acknowledged was the disgust and powerful sense of superiority she felt. Those kids and their parents were akin to parasites in her mind. Carelessly living along without a worry in the world, oblivious to the dirty responsibility of their superiors.

Perhaps she was just trying to cope, but she couldn’t help but also feel a hint of pride at the sight. She had participated in the work of keeping this city safe from dangerous people. Her doing was part of why the peace below was possible. 

Slowly, she stumbled upon what she thought was the message her father was trying to send. Proud of herself, she smiled and waited for the chance to demonstrate her work.

The hours passed by. Soon, the sun was setting, and the children were bidding their goodbyes. There was a scuffle about who owned a ball they found in the bush circa three hours ago, and in the end, the father of one of the kids tore the ball out of the grip of his fat son and handed it to the crying child his son had pushed to the ground.

Not long after, most of the kids were being taken away by their parents. As the night fell, a group of older teenagers took over, loitering around the playground. Between them bloomed friendships, rivalries, and romance. Another world entirely foreign to her. 

Eventually, the teenagers scattered as well. 

There were only a few adults passing by on the street at that hour. It was mostly people coming back from working late, and even then, slowly, their numbers died down. The lights on the building windows shut off, the curtains closed, and the streets were finally quiet.

There was nobody there. 

Her father finally spoke. “Where did everyone go?” he asked. 

Baffled, Emily pondered her answer. Her father hated stupid questions, and he despised stupid answers. There had to be some kind of deeper meaning to—

“It should be obvious, no?” he egged with a sly grin.

Still frowning, she tentatively said, “Home?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

She gave him a flat look. “Home. They went home.”

He slowly nodded. “And why did they go home?”

Sensing the pattern, she answered, “Because it’s late.”

“And why does that make people go home?” he asked. 

Because it’s dark outside, she thought, but as she opened her mouth, she caught those words and swallowed them. That wasn’t a real answer, and she knew it. “Because people get tired at night, and they head somewhere safe so they can sleep. It is an evolutionary trait.”

“Good answer,” he said, and then pointed at a random man who was walking a bit away from the tree. “And what about that man? Why isn’t he home and asleep?”

She took a moment to think about the answer. “Humans aren’t animals. Just because we have certain instincts, it doesn’t mean we will always obey them.” She turned to look at her father. “He is up for the same reason we are up. Because he chose not to go to sleep.”

“Or maybe he just works a night shift?” her father suggested teasingly, making her scoff and look away. Smiling at her, he tapped her shoulder. “Why do we kill people…?” he echoed her question from earlier that day. “Many think the answer is obvious. They think some people simply deserve to die. The bad guys dying makes the world a better place. Is it our duty, it is our calling, blah, blah, blah…” 

The look in his eye grew distant. “I am glad you dare question it. I’m relieved, actually.” He chuckled. “Too many of our people accept what they’re told and move on like it doesn’t even matter. But it does. Killing people is bad, you know? Even if we do it for a good reason.” 

“And what is that reason?” she asked, her hands trembling at the memory of the lives she had taken.

“You’ve already stumbled upon the answer yourself,” he told her. “It’s because we aren’t animals, Emily. People have free will, and some use it to do bad things. To say all we do is kill people is a bit inaccurate. To be more precise, we follow those who step out of order, so that they aren’t alone and free to do as they wish. We stay awake so that the predators aren’t the only ones up at night.”

He looked up at the sky and went quiet for a few moments. “Our targets aren’t always bad people, you know?” he said wistfully. “There are times when the empire wants us to do the wrong thing for the right people.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “And what do we do then?”

He grinned at her. “What else? We disobey.” He looked at her for a long moment. “There will come a day where you’ll have to disobey to do the right thing. Do you think you’d be able to do that?”

Emily froze. “But… the only person I listen to… is you.”

His grin widened as he chuckled. “Indeed.”

***

Emily followed her entourage of geezers out of the tower, looking as uninterested as ever, digging dirt behind her black thumbnail as they yapped on about their petty drivel. 

“The people here…” the man on the left shook his head and chuckled. “Really, uncivilized doesn’t even begin to cut it.”

“Don’t be like that,” the man in the middle said as he jabbed the other man with his elbow. “It sounds like you’re saying they deserve what’s coming for them.”

“Well… I’m not not saying that.”

“That’s a new low, even for you, Jackson,” the old woman on the right said, scoffing and shaking her head. “These are still people of the empire. And they’re people, for hell’s sake, don’t let me hear you talking like that again.” Then, she suddenly turned around, glancing at Emily. “Young Mistress… is everything alright?” 

Emily clicked her tongue. “No.”

The woman’s gaze narrowed. “Are you mad at the empire for refusing to help?”

She scoffed. “Please. I expected no less from them. Really, I’m just frustrated at how much time I wasted here for nothing.”

The man on the left—Jackson—raised an eyebrow. “Did you not get some good combat experience? I’ve seen you struggle quite a bit against a few of those monsters.”

Rolling her eyes, she groaned and looked away. “Really, I should have my father send me off with someone who knows how to keep their mouth shut.”

Jackson’s expression soured as he looked away.

They continued walking in silence, and before long, they made it into the city. There, not far from the central tower was a large walled platform—within it, an assortment of flight-capable vehicles, their ride home included. The black carriage was waiting inside a reinforced lock garage, and before long, they boarded it. 

It was quite a bit larger on the inside compared to its exterior form. Within, it had a small house worth of space, and a bulk—nearly half—was taken up by Emily’s private room. 

As she approached the door, she paused before entering, shifting a little with her hand on the knob. With a slight turn of her head, she shouted. “I’ll be meditating so I’d prefer some privacy. Unless we’re about to die or land home, I don’t want any of you geezers to bother me.” She squinted at them. “Open the door and I’ll have my father crucify you.”

With all the angst she could muster, she marched inside and slammed the door shut. She walked on over to the meditation chamber and closed the door from the outside. Then, using her hair, she slid into the cracks, turning the key on the other side. 

Taking a deep breath, she immediately headed for the window. With the space dilation, the garage outside appeared huge. Opening the window, she leaped outside, feeling a bit ill at the sudden readjustment of space going from compressed to decompressed. Landing at a roll, she slithered to the nearest shadow, and then blended right into it, becoming little more than an unnotable patch of dark in the corner. 

There, she watched the carriage leave. Without her. 

Once they were gone, she chuckled. “Oh, man… I’m so dead when dad finds out.” For a moment, she remembered those words he had told her a long time ago. 

Just because her dad suggested she do this didn’t mean he wouldn’t kick her ass for trying it, anyway. He was a bit of a hypocrite like that. 

Putting those thoughts aside, she slithered back out, making her way onto the wall, disguised as just another mercenary. 

***

“The mercenary groups you hired are getting ready to leave,” the adjudicator said, and Freddy felt his heart clench. 

“Well then,” Matt Canstone said with a nod. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it.” He walked out the room, leaving them to their privacy. 

Freddy chuckled darkly. “That’s a violation of the contract,” he stated the obvious. “But I’m guessing they’re relying on some kind of loophole?”

“Kind of,” the adjudicator confirmed, groaning in displeasure. “Technically, a bulk of their mercenaries are the ones who are breaking their contracts with their companies.”

“A bulk?” Freddy noticed. “So some are staying?” 

“Some, yes. The three-stars can’t leave because I am directly responsible for enforcing their compliance. And other than that, some others have decided to stay, too, no doubt to help with the plausible deniability.”

“Couldn’t I sue them for this? Actually, no, I think I figured it out.” Freddy’s chuckling suddenly turned into an angry growl. “I could sue them, but they’ve probably muddied the water enough to make it impossible to get anywhere on time.”

“Precisely,” the adjudicator said. 

Freddy sighed. “Thanks for the update, I guess. As if things weren’t bad enough already.”

“They’re more than bad enough, Mr. Stern,” he said, leaving the obvious unstated. 

For a long moment, Freddy felt the draw of the temptation to just leave. This had gone far outside the scope of what he should be responsible for a long time ago. “I’ll have to get back to the defense.”

The adjudicator’s expression saddened. “As you wish.” 

Freddy walked past the man, and entered the hallway. There, he found… nobody. It was empty. The numerous servants who had come with the young elites were already leaving, making the city feel that much more abandoned. 

The monochrome stone walls felt like they were strangling him as he moved through them. And then, he finally found himself stopping in his tracks, his feet refusing to move him forward, his body and mind numb. “Should I just give up here…?” he asked himself. 

There was no one to answer his question. 

He didn’t even know how much time had passed before he started moving again.

Once he made it out onto the wall, he spotted the group of mercenaries, with Drake standing by their side. 

“Freddy?” a small voice called from his side, and he turned to spot Lily. “About that offer you made… Could you send me to the empire?”