Night in the Backstreets

Swirling clouds filled the sky.

Streets of lifeless buildings, boarded windows, and shattered glass.

These aspects of ruin and decay were all illuminated below.

A night in the Backstreets.

The lamp-like moon shone between the cracks of all-encompassing smoke, casting grey, ominous shadows onto the earth below.

Silence.

It was on this night when Little Red took her first breaths in the City.

She sat on the corner of a rooftop, almost thirty miles away from Mei's apartment.

Such a distance nearly took half an hour of sprinting.

Her breath blew white mist into the frigid night air.

Suddenly, she slammed her palm onto her temple.

"Give me control! Set me free!" The unexpected scream rang through the street. Awoken, some residents peered through the windows, removing their window's boards to see the commotion.

The smarter ones didn't.

Currently, Asher and Red were fiercely clashing with each other, in both mind and voice.

"No." The other voice was firm and unrelenting. "If I give you full control, I'll never complete your synchronization. Just bear with me for a few weeks."

Little Red gnashed her teeth-

Her eye twitched as a sudden movement in her peripheral vision put her on guard.

Asher's hand shot forward with a mind of its own, intercepting a glowing chunk of metal with his palm.

*Hiss*

His flesh sizzled as the searing blade sliced through his skin like butter. His wound came from a knife-like object, flung from ground level with deadly precision.

Asher looked down to where the knife was thrown from.

His gaze was met by the reddish glow of a full-face gas mask. A figure clad with inky black armor.

It was a Sweeper.

"Let's talk later." He tore out the object lodged in his hand, tossing it to the ground with a clang. The belts wrapped around his wrist tightened, and the bleeding trickled to a stop.

"..." Little Red gave Asher control over her body, if only for now. She knew better to distract him in a fight.

After all, their lives were connected now.

Asher pushed off the roof, his eye curving into a fierce grin.

With a burst of strength, he disappeared.

",?>)?" The Sweeper felt a hand grip his neck. As the hand clenched into a fist, it rotated its head to face him.

"Can you talk?"

The holes of its gas mask stared blankly into Asher's eye.

Asher tutted, blocking the meat hook that attempted to sneak an attack to his stomach with his rusty scythe-blade.

Flakes of brown rust fluttered to the floor as the clash filled the street with sparks.

"Damn, guess I'll upgrade this first. And," Asher leaned forward, almost touching the Sweeper, "you're weak now~"

A smug whisper wormed into the creature's mask.

It gave no sign of understanding.

Asher's left hand blurred forward, snatching the Sweeper's wrist. With a roar, he pulled the arm up.

The glowing meat hook pierced the Sweeper's gas mask, lodging itself in the creature's skull.

The Sweeper spasmed as Asher churned the meat hook inside its brain, scrambling its insides. The stench of burnt flesh quickly filled his nose.

It fell to the ground, motionless.

Asher took a step back, fairly satisfied with his handiwork. He greedily noticed the tank of blood attached to the creature's back.

"Ehehe... Oh right, Little Red! How did I do?"

"Hm."

There was nothing to complain about. Objectively, Asher had used her body well.

But a bad taste was left in the Abnormality's soul. She felt trapped, unable to move at all.

She remembered what happened in the Punishment mission. It was that same feeling, that feeling of utter uselessness.

Utter... uselessness.

"Give me-" Her voice cracked with emotion, "Give me my voice. Give me that, at least."

The sheer misery that tinged her voice gave Asher a pause.

"U-Um, sure. Honestly, this should only take about two weeks, at worst. I'll set you free in no time."

With that, Asher let Little Red take joint control of his vocal cords.

Each of them could speak freely through one voice, as one entity.

"...Thanks." A hint of gratitude touched her voice, one that Asher pretended to not notice.

"No prob. Now about this blood tank." Asher crouched next to the Sweeper, brushing his hand along the blood vessel's glowing glass surface.

"It seems fragile. Break it."

Asher nodded, but upon taking his rusty weapon out it was clear he wouldn't be able to do it without help.

In a moment of inspiration, he tore the meat hook out from the Sweeper's skull. However, even the hook was unable to pierce the plexiglass tank, now that it had cooled down.

'A glowing hook should do the trick.'

Luckily for Asher, another Sweeper roamed into the open, the sizzle of water vapor notifying him of its presence behind him.

"Just in time!" Asher whirled around, dashing toward it. Now that his Fortitude had more than doubled, he was fearless.

The Sweeper raised its hooks, slashing forward methodically. Its movement was maddeningly slow in Asher's perspective.

If he was even able to fend off a Sweeper when he only had fifteen Fortitude, how could he possibly be threatened now?

Sidestepping the hooks' reach, Asher pulled out his gun, placing the barrel on the creature's temple.

"Don't test the gun; it might break." Little Red warned.

[The gun will not break.]

"...Fuck it, do whatever you want then." Little Red sighed, and Asher resisted the urge to laugh.

*BOOM*

An explosion unbefitting of a flintlock pistol sounded from the firing chamber. Instantly, the street was covering in a plume of greyish smog.

Asher coughed as the unpenetrable smokescreen forced him back into cleaner air.

When the smoke cleared, Asher found himself chuckling unbeknownst to himself.

"Did... Did the thing even fire?" Contrary to what he expected from the explosive noise, the Sweeper in the middle of the street was completely unharmed.

[A malfunction occurred! The Old Flintlock gains quality 'Jammed'!]

[Jammed: Cannot be used for ten minutes.]

No wonder. The System said the gun wouldn't break... In a sense, it was completely correct.

"Well, back to the old-fashioned method."

Asher flickered behind the Sweeper. Before the creature could react, it too had its brain destroyed by force.

He used the fresh, still glowing hooks to slash open the blood tank on the creature's back.

As murky blood gushed out, a hint of confusion flashed past Asher's face.

"So... do I just put my weapon in there?"

[Yes.]

"Okay."

Without another word, he plunged his rusty blade into the tank. Almost instantly, an unearthly glow burst from the weapon as it absorbed the brackish fluid.

[A Rusty Blade is absorbing blood! Progress: 10%... 20%... 35%... 50%!]

[All available blood has been absorbed. Current progress until next upgrade: 50%]

None of the blood was left, all sucked into the rusty chunk of metal.

Fifty percent?

"Well, well, how perfect." With a hum, Asher slashed through the other Sweeper's tank. Blood splashed onto the ground as he dropped his weapon inside.

Now the waiting game. Asher watched through the glass as the liquid level quickly lowered.

[60%... 75%... 85%... 100%!]

[A Rusty Blade has absorbed enough blood! Upgrade in progress...]

Only a second passed before another prompt filled Asher's vision.

[Upgrade complete! 'A Rusty Blade' has transformed into 'Blood Function'!]

[Blood Function: A killer's weapon, soaked in blood. Its hinges are oiled; its blade is well kept. A useful tool for drawing blood. Sometimes, its silver blade flashes with the red of its previous victims. This weapon may change after being soaked in blood. Progress: 0% until next upgrade.]

Like a child opening a present, Asher peered into the container that held his gift.

Blood Function... what a strange name.

Asher admired his new blade. Now that the rust was gone, its hinges could actually work as intended.

He swung his arm through the air, and the blade rotated around the joint, like a switchblade, to extend to a very respectable length. Though, instead of a straight blade, this weapon was more curved and scythe-like.

The handle was a bit rough, a rod of wood as long as and slightly thinner than his arm, but the bits of leather that served as the grip made it sufficient for use.

Asher retracted the blade.

"Phew. I could stay here and upgrade my other stuff, but..."

He didn't like how the Sweepers were so easy to beat.

Asher didn't want life-threatening opponents, but a challenge would have been nice. Sweepers were just too simple for him.

"Does the quality of blood have any impact on absorption?"

[Yes. Stronger opponents lead to faster progression.]

There, another excuse.

Killing Sweepers was a useless endeavor because of one extra thing: they couldn't speak. Thus, there was no opportunity to [Mark] them.

Yet another excuse.

Asher braced his legs, leaping to the rooftops in a single push.

He looked down to the two corpses below him. In the alleyways, he could already see the red glows of the corpses' backup.

Soon, the streets would be covered by those silent, emotionless Sweepers.

He took a deep breath, releasing the leftover tension in his muscles. The wound on his hand throbbed, yet it did not bleed.

Time to go somewhere else.

"Asher, careful." Little Red growled, alerting him to a new presence.

Another figure was on the roof, three buildings away from them.

Despite the distance, Asher could tell that it was over a head taller than him.

'Even with Little Red's height...' So the mysterious figure was nearly two meters tall.

Its clothes were entirely pale white. A tight-laced corset bound the waist, followed by a puffy, stiff dress.

White latex gloves covered each of its arms up to the shoulders.

In its left hand rested a white umbrella. The umbrella's edge was lined with draping, opaque silk, covering any facial visibility with a gaunt veil.

Even with the veil, the unknown figure gave Asher an uncanny feeling.

It was staring directly at him.

"You, over there. Staring at me?" Little Red growled, calling out to the motionless statue.

At the same time, Little Red communicated mentally with Asher.

Soon, they reached an agreement.

Asher raised his weapon, matching Little Red's aggressive tone.

A new identity would need to be memorable. This was one way to do it.

The ghostly figure began to float silently towards them. Its voluminous dress allowed it to hide its steps with ease.

Soon, they stood face to face. With a closer look, the woman's hair was also pure white. Her hair extended well beyond her torso. It was combed meticulously, without any braids or accessories.

Asher sighed, flicking his blade shut. He couldn't feel any malicious intent from the woman.

Thirty miles out, and he was already meeting new faces.

This was another reason why he left.

"The silence's killing me. Who are you?"

The figure did not respond.

Instead, she extended her hand, inviting for a handshake.