2 II - Meet the Madame

The Madame glared down at James who was currently sprawled on the ground with an empty bottle of booze in his hand. Her eye twitched as she noticed the bottle before her gaze settled back onto James' own.

"Jameson. I should've known this was your fault. For the love of Ara could you not cause a disaster every other day!" At her frenzied yell, lightning cracked across the dark sky, highlighting her figure and making her look less like a human and more like an enraged beast. Not that he would say that to her face though.

"To be fair, that would've exploded even without me there. If anything you should be thanking me for getting everyone out. Saves you from the hassle of all that extra paperwork if any of these people got caught in that." James motioned with his free hand to the crowd of people around them, all of them staying far away from the Madame. They had narrowly escaped death once, they weren't about to tempt it again.

The Madame gave James a pointed look before gesturing at the rubble, "You are aware that the janitor was in the basement, right?"

James looked at the rubble and back at the furious woman, a sheepish expression adorning his face. "Correction then. You should be thanking me for getting 'almost' everyone out." Her menacing growl in response to that made his trap shut faster than a bullet could leave his gun.

James was saved from being strangled to death by a loud whoosh sound and surprised yelps from the crowd coming from behind the Madame, a telltale sign of someone using mass teleportation.

The Madame turned her head and buried her face in her hands upon seeing the new arrivals. "The authorities are here. Great, just great." She gave James one last pointed glare before stalking off towards the officers. He didn't know if he should feel relieved for himself or sorry for the hell the officers were about to encounter. Either way, he muttered a quick prayer of thanks to the gods before getting back up on his feet.

"Now... where in Deus' name are my boots?"

----------*line break*----------

Rebecca huffed as she smoothed her hair and straightened her dress, reaching up to fix the dainty hat sitting atop her head. She had bought it from a well-known milliner, frequented by nobles and other high-ranking officials. Lots of rumors circulated that hats crafted by said milliner brought good luck and fortune to the wearer, but as she took another scathing look back at the burning wreckage of her tavern, Rebecca couldn't help inwardly cursing both the milliner and Jameson.

Speaking of the troublesome young man, she noticed him out of the corner of her eye getting up and walking around the wreckage. While she wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, she knew he was up to no good again. She would've strangled him already, but the arrival of the Magus Brigade was more important.

Trying her best to stem her anger and put on a welcoming demeanor, Rebecca approached the squad of officers with a fake smile plastered onto her face.

All of the officers wore their combatant uniforms; a tough navy blue combat jacket over a t-shirt, with matching black trousers and freshly polished black combat boots. Each of them also had a belt for their wand holster, as all Magus Brigade officers are required to have a high affinity with magus and magus-related dealings.

You could be the best damn fighter the world has ever seen, but if you don't have even a shred of magus within you, you would have a snowflake's chance in hell to be accepted into the Magus Brigade's forces.

The leader of the squadron stepped forward, easily identifiable by the glowing golden insignia of a lion pinned on the left breast of his jacket. Not many people knew, but the insignia also served as a small emergency reserve of magus to be used in the direst of situations. His brown crew-cut hair and no-nonsense expression completed the military look perfectly.

The squadron leader outstretched his hand, Rebecca taking it firmly in her grip as they shook hands and he introduced himself. "Evening, ma'am. The name's Boris Hoffman, captain of the 35th squadron." Boris took his hand back and gave her a short yet sharp salute, before gesturing to the flaming rubble behind her.

"We need to run an investigation regarding this whole incident, and we would appreciate any information you could give us regarding the matter."

Rebecca sighed and shrugged in response, "I wasn't even inside my establishment at the time of the 'incident'. When I got here, the crowd was already outside and my building was blown to pieces. If there's anyone around here you should be interrogating, it's that man over there." She pointed at the figure of James, hunched over what looked to be a misshapen and burned piece of the wreckage, his forehead furrowed as he stared at it.

Boris shifted his gaze to James before his mouth set in a hard line, the squareness of his jaw being highlighted by his stony expression. "Him again? This is the third time this week already." He mumbled a few less-than-kind words under his breath as he walked over to the oblivious man.

James didn't notice the approaching officer, focused on the burning remains of his boots. Apparently, they had gotten caught up in the explosion and was now little more than a charred and muddy husk of what they once were. A vein popped out on his forehead as he recalled just how expensive the boots were. Leave it to the gods for his one extravagant purchase to be destroyed in less than a day.

Standing behind him, Boris cleared his throat in a not-so-subtle way of getting the annoyed man's attention. James pivoted on his heel, which proved to be very painful for his wounded feet, brushing dust off his clothes as he did so. Upon facing the man, James let out an exasperated groan that spoke volumes about the two men's relationship.

"Alright let's just get this over with. Ask me your questions, I'll answer them, and then I'll be out of your hair faster than you can cast a teleportation spell." James crossed his arms as he looked at Boris, the latter just shaking his head as he took out a pen and paper.

"Okay then. First things first, I need a rundown on what happened in there," he said, pointing his chin at the wreckage, "and what you had to do with all this."

James paused for a bit to collect his thoughts, trying to remember the cover story he had prepared. "Basically, I had a really rough night. So I came over here to relax and unwind. You know the drill, a couple drinks a few laughs then heading back home to pass out in my room."

Boris lifted an eyebrow but remained stoic, jotting notes down periodically as he listened to James.

"So I came in, sat down, and ordered a glass of booze for myself. I look over at this creepy dude sitting next to me, I look down at his lap, and what do I see? Man had an honest-to-Fhor magus bomb sitting in his lap." James formed a cube shape with his hands to try and show Boris what the bomb looked like, the captain just looking at him with a disbelieving expression.

"A magus bomb? I find that hard to believe. Only a handful of artificers can craft such a complicated mechanism, and the Magus Brigade keeps a watching eye over all of them. Not to mention the fact that such things are extremely expensive."

James just wrung his singed hair with his hands, frustrated at Boris' response. "Look, you don't have to believe me, but I'm telling you the truth. There was a ghoul in there with a bomb-"

A pair of hands appeared in front of James' face, stopping him from continuing his sentence. Boris' previous look of disbelief was now more akin to amusement.

"I'm sorry, but did you just say a ghoul tried to blow up a building with a magus bomb? Gods above this story is getting better and better," Boris snickered, his eyes twinkling as he imagined such an unbelievable sight.

"Oh fuck you, Boris. Fuck you," James grumbled miserably.

After a few more seconds of chuckling and snickering, Boris finally reined in his laughter and gave the miffed man a serious look. "Look, James. Even if I did believe you, which I really don't right now, not many others would either. I mean... a ghoul walking into a tavern to blow it up with a magus bomb? More than just one thing doesn't add up here."

Sadly, James had to agree. It was one thing that the tavern was destroyed by a magus bomb, it was another that it had been caused by a ghoul. Ghouls are known as notoriously selfish creatures, doing only what they see as the best for them. Blowing yourself up in a room full of people instead of sucking their souls out was quite the deviation from a ghoul's usual behavior.

And it wasn't like James was expecting this either. He knew that the tavern would be destroyed by a ghoul at this exact date and time thanks to the information he obtained from his previous life. But he had just assumed that the ghoul attacked a few people, ate their souls, then the building got destroyed by someone acting like a hero and using a destructive magus spell to kill it.

Boris rubbed his chin thoughtfully, conflicted at the confusing situation as he stared at his notes. He was broken out of his contemplation as he heard the click-clacking of heels behind him.

"As the owner of this establishment, I would also like to receive a copy of the report. I deserve to know why my establishment was blown up like fireworks on a noble's birthday," Rebecca announced with a huff as she glared at James, her eyes still burning with fury.

Boris just nodded at that before turning to face James, "Of course, ma'am. We're almost done here as well, I just have a few more questions I need to clear up. James, what happened to the 'ghoul'?"

James gulped as he realized the mistake in his earlier actions. "I shot it..." The captain's eyes bugged out as the Madame just stared at him agape.

"You fired a gun in the middle of the city?! Are you crazy?" Boris said the last part in a hushed whisper, yet still adding a condescending tone that grated on James' nerves.

James held his hands up in a placating gesture as he defended his actions, "In my defense, it was either breaking a law or getting my soul sucked out and eaten. And I don't know about you but I'd like to live another day thank you very much."

"Well, none of those days will be lived around here in Ashiel. At least not once the council hears that you broke a cardinal rule of the city," Boris said as he gave James a sorry look.

James just shrugged in response to that. His plans had already been messed up when he failed to stop the explosion, so now he had to do damage control to keep it from getting any worse. Therefore he had no reason to stay in the city any longer.

"Fine by me. I'll be out of your hair before the crack of dawn."

A cold hand gripped James' shoulder, the force behind it threatening to crack his shoulder blade. He could feel a dangerous aura from behind him and nervously turned his head to face what was surely the last face he would see before his death.

With a cold and icy voice that sent shivers down his spine, Rebecca leaned close to James and whispered into his ear, "You're not getting away that easily Jameson. This might have been caused by some sort of terrorist attack, but I'll still be holding your scrawny ass accountable for all this."

With a choked gulp, James prayed to the gods that he would be able to leave the city come morning with all of his body parts intact.