Tracksuit Man’s words were interesting. Something about meeting Mark? Sounded important.

  But I couldn’t focus because the predator inside me was raring to attack the gas-spewing rat bastard. The old me would’ve immediately charged, but I was more in control now though there was the bubbling rage and gnawing hunger. I gritted my teeth to calm myself.

  I swaggered forward. They all stiffened except for Tracksuit Man. I pointed with a claw at Gas Pipe… Rat—I couldn’t concentrate on giving him a nickname.

  Tracksuit Man looked behind him. “Do you want to kill him for injuring you with his corrosive gas?”

  Gas Pipe Rat immediately stopped and retracted all his pipes into his body. “Wha-what?” he stammered, taking a step back. His companions blocked him.

  “We apologize for our rudeness,” Tracksuit Man said to me, bowing. “We shall rectify it immediately.”

  “The hell are you saying? You ordered me to—urk!” Gas Pipe Rat clawed at his neck. Was he choking?

  He started to float, thrashing wildly in the air. The woman beside him waved her hands as if conducting a choir. From the tips of her fingers flowed strings, too thin for a human eye to see, thinner than a spider’s silk. They may be energy strands than actual solid objects. Of course, I could see them with my enhanced senses as Blanchette. The strings not only wrapped Gas Pipe Rat’s neck but connected all over his body, lifting him. I kept watch if some of them tried to sneak up on me.

  “No! Don’t kill—” The strings around Gas Pipe Rat’s neck tightened into a knot in one pull. His head came right off and he stopped struggling.

  Strings Woman gently set the lifeless body and severed head of her comrade on the ground. My rage subsided with the loss of my target. Another Adumbrae coated the corpse with a yellowish liquid that started to harden. He stood the crystallized corpse upright next to Frizzy Detective.

  Disappointment set in with my target gone.

  “Is this sufficient, Madame Red Hood?” Tracksuit Man gestured at the dead Gas Pipe Rat.

  I snorted out my large nostrils and slumped my shoulders. They didn’t understand that they were supposed to give Gas Pipe Rat to me to eat so I’d spare them. But they didn’t want to fight me. What did Tracksuit Man say again? Mark wanted to talk to me. Now that my mind became clear, I realized that it might not be such a bad idea.

  I had a lot of questions and might not have any other opportunity to get them answered. Killing and destruction would come later. Mark would surely agree.

  Tracksuit Man smiled. “I’m no mind reader, but I assume you’re of the thought this is a trap?”

  I swayed my head from side to side. Very possible this was a trap. However, they wouldn’t spring it too soon. Yes, Mark was my enemy, and he probably wanted revenge for all the damage I caused him. But wasn’t that the same with Big Marcy? So long as I had value, I was safe… sort of.

  For Big Marcy, my value was an ally he could use to destroy Mark. In terms of firepower, Big Marcy sucked big time compared to his younger brother—he needed me.

  What was my value to Mark? Yes, I was strong. But he had strong minions under his disposal. Thought it wouldn’t hurt to have more firepower. Another thing, I was a true Adumbrae—now that held more value. Not so easy to find a coherent Adumbrae, especially one he could convince to work for him. Unless he wanted a true Adumbrae for experiments—that was a danger.

  “If your destruction was our goal,” said Tracksuit Man, “we would’ve attacked you in Las Vegas. We know where you live. That’s not a threat, mind you. I’m merely illustrating that though we have an… unsavory past, killing you is not our goal. Boss Mark is grateful you’ve gotten rid of the Tea Party for us—he wants to personally extend his thanks.”

  I recalled that the Tea Party and the 2M’s group were rivals. But that didn’t mean Mark would just forget what I did to his organization, even though they were the ones that bothered me first. I growled, giving Tracksuit Man a sidelong glance.

  “I’m not well versed in this method of communication,” he said, still all smiles. “If it isn’t too presumptuous to ask. Can you could revert to your original body?”

  Original body? Did he mean Blanchette or—?

  “Can we talk to you as Erind Hartwell, please?”

  So, they did know. It wasn’t just Big Marcy. I hadn’t been exactly subtle about my business. At this point, it’d be surprising for anyone not to know my true identity.

  I shook my head and gestured for them to lead the way. I was starting to shrink because the fight was over before it started; my instincts couldn’t even pick up any killing intent from any of them. It didn’t mean it was safe. The trap could be when I’d meet Mark. I’d stay in my Blanchette body.

  “Ah, yes. It is too insolent a demand.” Tracksuit Man ordered his subordinates to move ahead while he walked by my side. “My apologies. We have no ulterior motives to weaken you for an ambush. It’s simply for ease of conversation. Thank you for, at the least, reducing your size. We take it as a show of goodwill.”

  Goodwill? Sure, let’s go with that. I couldn’t stop myself from deflating. I raised my arm and observed the fur recede into my skin. I was still a formidable force in my base Blanchette body. So long as I wouldn’t get killed in one go, I could power up and become a giant werewolf again.

  “Expecting that communication might be a problem,” said Tracksuit Man, “I brought this with me.”

  One of his subordinates gave him a canister. I smelled hints of something foul inside. Something alive. The canister hissed open, and Tracksuit Man pulled out a fat wriggling worm the size of his arm. It looked like the parasite slugs that caused humans to mutate but much bigger.

  I let out a low snarl, stretching the claws of my right hand by my side.

  “There is no danger.” Tracksuit Man turned over the worm to reveal something that didn’t look dangerous but disturbing. Human ears lined the underside of the worm like little flapping feet. And at the end of the worm, where one would expect the mouth to be was a… mouth.

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  A human mouth, complete with lips, teeth, and tongue.

  “Groargh…” I commented.

  The worm coughed before speaking in a child’s voice, “O-okay, tha-that’s weird.”

  “Hgroaa?”

  “Wha-what the he-hell?” squeaked the worm.

  “Give it some time before it can fluently speak,” said Tracksuit Man, cradling the worm like a baby. “This is the latest of Mister’s works, specifically made to communicate with you. Boss Mark commissioned it. This is proof of his intent to talk to you. I also reiterate that we have not attacked you though we know where you were.”

  “It’s too costly for you to attack me,” I grumbled, translated by Wormy Two. “Plus, there’s the risk of the BID or the Corebrings knowing more about your organization.”

  But things are different now, I thought. I was in the heart of their base; they could bring their entire forces to fight me.

  One of the cards up my proverbial sleeves was being uneconomical to kill. Mark, the Supplier, whoever the fuck ran this place, had stuff to do not connected to me. I could mess up their operations really badly, and what do they get for killing me? A hairy corpse. Mark was quite shrewd thinking of a way to stop me from starting shit the moment he knew I was here.

  Another card I had was divulging Big Marcy’s planned rebellion against his brother. Mark probably suspected something like that was going on anyway.

  “What you say is true,” Tracksuit Man said, chuckling with so much fakeness that I wanted to puke. “We’ll expend too many resources attempting to eliminate you. And so, our boss offers you to work for him.”

  “What can he offer then?”

  “I can only speculate because I’m not privy to his plans. But foremost in my mind is the possibility of suppressing the Adumbrae in your mind.”

  That was something Big Marcy couldn’t offer. “I’ll just have to hear it from him.”

  We hiked about fifteen minutes to the nearest box jail building. I couldn’t smell or hear anyone inside. But the trap wouldn’t be here. This was a teleportation zone. It was how I got here on Blue Island. Where were we going next? What was waiting for me on the other side?

  “We’ll be warping to Green Island,” explained Tracksuit Man, “where the accommodations and amenities for our clients are located. Mark will be waiting for us there.”

  I was last to enter the small building. It was cramped inside with four other Adumbrae and two large crystal cocoons. Cobwebs lined the corners of the ceiling, rust consumed the metal doors, and a blanket of dust covered the floor. It looked like this place hadn’t been used for some time. I wanted to ask why this was so, but Tracksuit Man was fiddling with a device. I primed myself, ready to strike the nearest threat that’d show up.

  After I blinked, we were no longer in dim lighting but out under the bright sun.

  I looked around to see that we were transported to the middle of a green field. No enemies waiting to attack me. The grass was neatly trimmed, trees arranged in rows in the distance, and beyond them were buildings. Fancy buildings with many rooms and many balconies. This might be a park outside the accommodations of Red Island guests. I could even spot some people on the rooftop pool, looking our way, curious about what was going on.

  And it was really curious because up ahead was a man sitting on a lawn chair under a bright yellow parasol. In front of him was an empty chair, probably for me to sit on.

  “Our boss decided to meet you in this open area to assuage suspicions of an ambush,” Tracksuit Man explained, walking forward. The rest of his group veered right, off stage. This was the next scene.

  That’s Mark? He was the opposite of his brother, just a regular-sized guy with only ten percent of the intimidation factor. Mark was at the stern teacher level of threatening, or maybe a strict dad. He looked the part, wearing a shirt of a team I wasn’t familiar with and shorts. Was this a deliberate fashion choice?

  Looking beyond him, near the trees bordering the buildings, there were large objects covered with cloth, machines maybe, and people next to them. They weren’t actively hiding to ambush me. More like waiting for Mark to tell them to come.

  None of them were Adumbrae or even augmented.

  He truly wants to talk, huh?

  Tracksuit Man stood behind Mark, still carrying Wormy Two.

  “Erind Hartwell…” Mark gestured at the empty seat.

  I considered remaining standing but it seemed petty. I sat down, crossing my legs as I leaned back. I waited for him to open the topic.

  “Before we discuss important matters,” Mark said, “we have to get something out of the way. Childishness and irrational plot in my eyes, that of my brother planning to overthrow me.” I didn’t react. This wasn’t unexpected. Mark continued, “I know you have met with him. I don’t know what you’ve talked about, but I can guess it’s related to his goal of supposedly taking back what was his.”

  “Rraogh… groaarr…” I said, finding no point in playing dumb.

  “Pretty much, that’s it,” translated Wormy Two.

  Mark leaned forward. He was completely human, as far as my damn good senses could pick up. “I assume Teruna here—” Mark nudged his head back at Tracksuit Man “—has told you that I want you on our side.”

  “He did.”

  “Perhaps you’re wondering why we want a true Adumbrae on our side? Powerful, true. But dangerous too. We’ll be putting our head in between your fangs, figuratively and, sometimes, literally. We work to maintain the human mind despite gaining otherworldly powers. You’re a true Adumbrae, the antithesis of our goal.”

  “Are you seriously quizzing me on this after telling me you want me to join you?” I asked, or rather I growled, and Wormy Two perfectly repeated the long sentence with no stutter. “You know, or at least suspect, that I’m a true Adumbrae who kept her head. Why? Because you approached me only now. A true Adumbrae wouldn’t bother coming here to kick your ass for what you did to me. They probably wouldn’t even consider the concept of revenge.”

  Mark laughed, looking at Tracksuit Man and pointing at me. “What did I tell you, Teruna? She has a good head on her shoulders.” Mark turned to me and said, “That is so, Erind Hartwell. Your arrival changed our assessment of you.”

  “There are other Adumbrae who have retained their minds like me. I’m sure you can find them if you want to.”

  “Ah, you’re aware of their existence,” said Mark. “But you might not be aware they’re working for the Corebrings.”

  I allowed myself to look surprised, and I was. That didn’t make sense. I could think of some reasons why Adumbrae would follow Corebrings, like maybe they were threatened with getting killed. But why would Corebrings need the help of Adumbrae?

  “It is the truth, Erind Hartwell.”

  “What about me then?”

  “You’re on your side. Now, I’m inviting you to join mine.”

  “Your side, Big Marcy’s side, whatever other side is out there.” I shrugged my shoulders, twirling my hands to gesture at the sky. “What’s the point? I’m quite fine on my own. Joining your side sounds like a bother.”

  “The side I’m on is working for our survival, that’s why you should join me. Perhaps you’re thinking that our aim is inconsequential, fighting other criminal organizations and the like. But, no. Our battle is for something far greater. We are working to save the world.”

  I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling. “Is this ‘saving’ the world—” I made air quotes with my claws “—along the lines of turning everyone into an Adumbrae? That’s the twisted logic I expect from villains.”

  Mark tutted as he shook his head. “You got it all wrong, Erind Hartwell. It’s the Corebrings who want to turn everyone into them.”

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