Chapter twelve

"There!" Saying this, Joan jumps off a six-story building and lands on the sidewalk. "Dammit! Forgot to surveil before jumping." She takes a quick glance around her. "Whew...! No one is..."

"Hey lady!" An old voice echoes. She speedily turns to the voice. "I... I just saw y-you f-fall...fom th-that building. You aight?"

"Huh? What's this geezer..." She takes in a sip of air. "Oh, he is a drunkard. Tsk! Then I shouldn't waste my time here. Not like anyone is going to believe a drunkard anyway. Hey, you! Quit drinking will ya? It will help." She walks off.

A few moments later, after a few straights and turns, Joan arrives at a bar.

"PP's Bar? Why is he at a PP's Bar? There are dozens of bars, why is that worm at the PP's? I think I had a nose mask on me somewhere..." She searches herself. From her pocket, she brings out a black nose mask and she wears it. "Before I forget..." She takes out a small black brick-shaped wood. She breaks it in two and it instantly turns into ash. She applies it on her body but it leaves no trace of ashes on her skin, almost as if it disappeared immediately when it made contact. "Okay. That should also mask my scent. Now let's head in." Saying this she goes into the bar.

Most of the bar is filled with thug-looking people. Wearing their leather attire and their mohawk and others, with tattoos and piercings all over their bodies, they more or less look like bikers, but outside the bar, no bikes were parked. A tattoo they all have in common is a tattoo of a half moon and the other half replaced with half of a wolf's head. They have this tattoo on their necks, wrists, ankles, and other places.

Joan on the other hand jut out like a sore thumb. Alone in the crowd, she follows Cyril's scent while ignoring all the unfriendly piercing stares. "That boy! He is so dead when I get him! Of all the places in town why one of Pythius' bars." She murmurs to herself as she heads towards a door where Cyril's scent emanates.

"Hey, stop!" A deep masculine voice commands. She turns to the voice and sees two brawny black men. They look the same in their black suits and black glasses. One point with the thumb at the door.

"Oh sorry." Joan apologizes. "Wasn't aware that was the VIP lounge." This draws her attention then she thinks, 'The VIPs, what is a boy like Cyril doing there? If he is involved with Pythius it can't be anything good. Dammit! His parents will flip if they hear of this. For now, let me get out of here before...' Her thoughts get interrupted as the two men move closer to her. She leaps back immediately as she senses the danger. "What-what is the meaning of this!?" She asks.

One of the security men having his hand on the ear like listening to commands answers, "The boss asks for you."

"Huh? Well I am in a bit of a hurry so kindly tell your boss to..." Before she could finish they advance towards her and hold her arms, then with force drags her through the door. As if the people present are blind, they just continue with their activities.

"Let go of me! I said let go..." Joan keep demanding till chills run down her spine upon entering and made her silent.

"Hello, there dear. Your scent is just too strong the Scent Mask couldn't veil it so I just had to call you in." A male voice says. She turns to her right and on a luxurious-looking leather sofa, a man with a long grey hair tied into a ponytail and a grey beard sits with his legs crossed. He is in an ash suit, with an eye patch on the left eye and his whole outfit shines with luxury. Apart from him, other people are present in the room and they all have shady looks and auras.

"Tsk! Funny running into you here, Pythius. Last time I saw you, you were begging for your life and now here you are acting all high and mighty."

"I would appreciate it if you spoke to Master Pythius with respect." She scrolls to the direction of the voice only to see Cyril sitting behind a desk with his elbows on the desk, fingers interlocked and his head resting on.

"You little pervert!" This statement compels smirks and tiny laughter to pop up. Cyril gets vexed but remains relaxed.

"Miss White, for as long as I can remember, you have been calling me that but I fail to see how I am that."

"What? A pervert? Well, let me give you a little bit of history. When..."

"Can you stop ignoring me!" Pythius speaks.

"Attention-hungry as always, huh?"

"This woman. Can you at least show some respect to the man who made you what you are. Everyone here is delighted and appreciative of what I made them you know. Are my right, Armageddon?"

"YES, LORD PYTHIUS!" The present people respond.

"Oh I do appreciate what I am now. What I don't and regret is what you made me do. Seeing you, it is evident you haven't changed one bit. You are still a power-hungry beast."

"Well what do you expect? I am a Fenrir. An apex born once a century at the peak of Mount Afjahrah under the grace of the eclipse of the century. That day I was given the power of a god, I was given the power to create Howlers and you think I was just going to sit around for the world to end? No, I will live my life as the apex (the mass present stamp their feet), the conqueror (they stamp), the devourer (they stamp), the..."

"Alright, I get it!"

"Damn you lady! How dare you interrupt our master!" A guy says moving on Joan.

"Rex, don't bother. All twenty-seven of you present wouldn't even succeed in plucking a strand of hair from her head should you attack together."

"Aww... Aincha giving me too much credit for that missing eye of yours?"

"Tsk! I can heal this anytime I want and you know that. I just keep it in memory of you. After all, I took you as a daughter and you stabbed me right in the eye."

"Only because you deserved it. Anyway, let's cut this long chat. Seeing as your claws are not in my heart still, you aren't going to kill me so let me get to the point. I came for the boy, so if you can find it in your rotten heart to hand him over, I will be on my merry way."