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144 - Lost Sun Killer Myth: Tracking Down the Suspect's Residence [Cherno]
🕑 Added 2023-10-13 14:10:40 +0000 UTCFor the next few days, Krahe dedicated a portion of her time to stalking Sorayah. Barzai made it a trivial matter, as she could be quite far removed from her target for limited periods of time… And Sorayah became somewhat careless when Krahe stopped coming to the Society after the attack.
It didn’t take long to track down where she lived, and somewhat to Krahe’s disappointment in her quarry, there seemed to be no third or fourth locations. On the third day, at a time when she knew Sorayah was out, she tried skimming into the basement through the locked outside door, but found herself ejected.
Frustrated at her own carelessness, Krahe let out a heavy sigh.
“She probably conducts human charcoal experiments in there, of course it’s warded. Just hope my skimming attempt didn’t leave a mark.”
Rather than try again, she hit the door with a simple appraisal attempt. The Prospector’s Eyes detected magic from the door, but, being what they were, they didn’t give her much info beyond that. Upon examination, there were the remnants of an inbuilt lock and turning handle core, but it was now held shut by an external padlock with a familiar stamp; the same stamp as a Dregsteamer belt. She squatted down, looking into the keyhole, and though it was sealed on the other side, she still managed to shove her pinkie into it. A grin took hold on her face when she felt it; Isotope. The tiniest bit, like a draft going into a door hidden behind a bookcase, but undeniably there.
Before she left, Krahe took another moment to get a close look at the lock. Thick, heavy, sturdy, but seemingly mundane, with a wide keyway. The Prospector's Eyes detected no magic coming off of it. There was a good chance something on the other side would prevent her from opening the door, but there was no harm in picking the lock and trying to get in this way either.
This plan to pick the lock went out the window when she returned to the safehouse and, finding that Casus was sleeping there, brought it up with him once he woke up. A curious, respirator-like mask sat on the coffee table alongside an empty coffee cup and some pill bottles. Krahe only recognized the Purge Pills. The banisher’s pallid countenance betrayed the fact he had made heavy use of the Silberblut Coupler recently.
"Sounds like a Kristoffen lock. Their locks are notorious for being some of the best you can find for a reasonable price. If you need to get into a building with one, perhaps consider skimming inside instead. Assuming it's not warded against such intrusion, of course."
"That's my problem, it is warded. I don't know to what degree, but I couldn't just skim inside. Not through that door, at least."
"Hrm... Why exactly do you require entry into this building? Assuming, that is, you are willing to share that information."
Given the fact this was a secondary investigation, and the fact the church would inevitably be involved when she resolved it, she saw no reason to keep it from Casus: "I'm fairly sure someone at the Lost Sun Society is practicing the arts detailed in the Human Charcoal Letters; manipulating people into undergoing Adustocorpus, then using their bodies as fuel for artifacts that allow them to use anathema without risk to themselves. Not certain of the motive. Could be power, eliminating competition, simple curiosity."
"...The Human Charcoal Letters?" the Banisher asked with a serious tone. "I see, they are why you required elevated access. Is this matter related to Hashem and his Benefactors?"
"No. I just happened to come across a lead while I was trying to get in contact with Yao," Krahe said, summoning a cigarette and flicking it into the corner of her mouth. She lit it with just a touch of her thumb.
"I could-" Casus started.
"Don't even think about it," Krahe interrupted. Exhaling a long puff of smoke, she gave him a chiding look over the top of her glasses: "Yesterday was the third day in a row I found you slumped down by the door with your coupler still on. I ought to report you to Firminus for doing the same shit he told you to stop, bet you haven't even been properly oiling your arm. Besides, you would be overkill. I need to break into an apartment building, not demolish it."
Casus shrank back somewhat, furrowing his eyebrows in a look of befuddled surprise.
With an amused grin, Krahe took another puff of her cigarette and asked: "What? Did you think I wouldn't take graft maintenance seriously? Forget that I used to be more graft than original flesh? I bet you haven't even realized why your arm is getting slower. The A-Three Tricep Bundle is fucked."
At that, Casus raised his arm, twisting it well beyond a normal range of motion.
"How did you..."
"Come on, I'm not an all-knowing genius. Firminus guessed that would be the issue when I last visited him," Krahe said. "When I went for my final post-graft checkup, he wouldn't stop bitching about how you ran out on him before he could even start with the maintenance."
"I could not help it, an urgent alert came in from the Central Temple. I will take care to visit him tomorrow."
"An urgent alert, huh? What was it?"
Casus smiled, leaning forward: "I know where Semzar Hashem will be not too long from now. The alert was a trustworthy source from his inner circle asking for a secure evacuation into Seven Spokes custody, and thanks to requesting priority on any matters pertaining to the Hashem heir, I was alerted first. The man wanted protection until Hashem was dealt with, erasure of his bounty record, permission to legally operate his gambling business, and to have his grafts looked at by a sanctioned grafter. This, in exchange for giving his testimony and leading us to Semzar. He even offered to have us bring in an Inquisitor to prove he was telling the truth.”
“How does our man know where to find the brat?”
“I will get to that part soon…” he said, standing up and stretching to the sound of popping joints. “…Once my throat is not dry as a desert.”
A few minutes later, two cups of coffee steaming on the table, Casus began recounting the incident.
