Chapter 100: I Infiltrated a Bloodline Trafficking Station

Transfer Station Four didn’t look like a transfer station.

That was the first problem.

The second was that it was far too well defended for a place that officially didn’t exist.

Raven observed the compound from a rise covered in low pines, his back against a rock and the stolen map spread between his hands. The station sat inside a natural depression in the terrain, surrounded by a dark wooden palisade reinforced with metal plates. Two towers. One main gate. A central stone building. Three smaller warehouses.

Nothing extraordinary at first glance.

Until you started counting.

Twelve guards visible.

Four more changing shifts.

Two archers in each tower.

Patrols too regular for ordinary mercenaries.

Runes beneath the gate.

And, according to the prisoner, at least twenty more men inside.

Valeria crouched beside him.

"That isn’t a clandestine warehouse."

"No."

"It’s too permanent."

"Yes."

"And too expensive."

Raven looked at her. "You’re saying the same thing three different ways."

"I’m waiting for you to admit something doesn’t fit."

"I admitted that when I said it wasn’t a clandestine warehouse."

Valeria narrowed her eyes. "Sometimes talking to you feels like interrogating an armed wall."

A few yards away, Nyxara sat on a rock with one leg crossed over the other, studying the fortification with considerably less interest than it deserved.

Roland, on the other hand, was watching every tower.

"I can take out all four archers before they raise the alarm."

Raven shook his head. "We don’t need bodies yet."

Nyxara tilted her head. "That still sounds unnecessarily complicated."

Raven looked back at the map.

"The station receives merchandise, sorts it, and redistributes it. The caravan documents referenced buyers, routes, and lot numbers. If we go in killing everyone, the first person with a functioning brain burns the records."

"I can stop them from escaping."

"You can’t stop a man on the other side of the building from destroying a document you don’t know exists."

Nyxara smiled. "So you want to tell me what to do."

Raven looked up. "I want you not to ruin my investigation."

Her smile widened.

Valeria sighed. "I don’t know why she liked that sentence."

"Because most people ask my permission using too many words."

Raven folded the map.

"Then enjoy the novelty. You’re staying outside."

Nyxara blinked. "That sounded like an order."

"It’s a recommendation supported by logic."

"Much worse."

Valeria smiled. "Welcome to my experience."

Raven ignored both of them and pointed toward the service road entering from the west.

"Two supply wagons arrive every afternoon. The next should pass within an hour. Valeria goes in with them."

She raised an eyebrow. "With them?"

"Your surname is useful for more than getting better rooms."

"How romantic."

"You can present yourself as a representative from a House interested in inspecting restricted merchandise. You don’t need to say which one."

Valeria studied the station. "That could work."

"I need you to draw out the administrative supervisor and anyone with authority over the records."

"And you?"

"I go through the drainage channel."

Roland frowned. "The prisoner said it’s covered by grates."

"The first one is."

"And the second?"

"He couldn’t see it from inside."

"That doesn’t mean there isn’t one."

Raven put away the map. "That’s why I’m checking."

Nyxara rested her chin on one hand. "I still prefer my plan."

"Your plan is walking through the front gate."

"It works with surprising frequency."

"And destroys exactly the information we came for."

"Only if I give someone time to destroy it."

Raven looked at her.

"There are thirty people inside and three separate buildings. You don’t know where the documents are. You don’t know who can activate emergency seals. You don’t know whether there’s an underground section. Being able to kill everyone doesn’t mean you can be everywhere at once."

Nyxara went quiet.

That was enough for Raven to know he had landed the point.

Valeria smiled. "I should enjoy this more."

Nyxara looked at her. "Watching him explain my limitations?"

"Watching you accept that you have some."

Nyxara returned her attention to Raven. "Fine. I’ll do what you want."

Valeria stopped smiling. "Don’t say that in that tone."

Raven stood. "Good. Then you stay outside until I signal."

"And what will the signal be?"

Raven considered it.

"If you hear an explosion that shouldn’t be happening."

"That is disappointingly vague."

"It’ll work."

The supply wagon arrived forty-three minutes later.

Valeria stopped it without using a single Skill.

That impressed Raven more than several of her Blood Magic demonstrations.

She stepped into the middle of the road wearing her dark coat, her hair perfectly arranged.

The driver stopped before he even understood why.

Five minutes later, Valeria was riding inside the wagon.

She hadn’t seduced anyone.

She hadn’t bribed anyone.

She had simply displayed a family seal, used the names of three nobles important enough to matter, and behaved as though explaining herself any further would be a waste of time.

Raven watched the wagon disappear through the main gate.

Nyxara stood beside him.

"That was efficient."

"Yes."

"I could have done something similar."

"Your version would have involved corpses."

"Only if they were rude."

Raven started down toward the drainage channel.

"Stay here."

"I already agreed."

"That doesn’t mean I trust you."

"I like that less."

Roland remained on the ridge with his bow ready.

Raven reached the dry channel behind the station and found the first grate almost exactly where the prisoner had described it.

Iron.

Weak runes.

No Black Mithril.

Stonehide covered his hands.

It took him four minutes to remove two bolts without damaging the frame.

The second grate was twenty yards inside.

It did exist.

Thicker.

But old.

Raven found corrosion around the lower edge.

Kinetic Acceleration.

Precise pressure.

The metal gave without excessive noise.

He slipped through.

The tunnel smelled of damp stone, alchemy, and blood.

Too much blood.

Raven moved forward in a crouch until he found a secondary exit beneath a wooden structure.

Predator’s Instinct detected two people above him.

He waited.

They passed.

Raven climbed out.

He was inside a warehouse.

Crates.

Jars.

Chains.

Empty cages.

Raven examined one.

Too small for an adult to sit comfortably.

Too large for an ordinary animal.

Scratches covered the inside.

Predation detected residue.

[Bloodborn Biological Trace Detected.]

[Residual Blood Age: Approximately 3–5 Days.]

[Mana Suppression Residue Present.]

Raven moved to the next cage.

Beastkin.

Another.

Human.

They weren’t only transporting organs.

They were transporting people.

They already knew that.

Seeing it industrialized was different.

Every cage had a number painted on it.

No names.

Numbers.

Raven opened a side door and entered the main corridor.

Voices.

"The lady says she represents a House from Greyhaven."

"Which one?"

"She wouldn’t say."

"Then make her."

"You make her."

Valeria was doing her job.

Raven moved in the opposite direction.

He found the first office.

Empty.

Administrative papers.

Food.

Normal inventory.

Grain.

Oil.

Alchemical supplies.

Nothing useful.

The second office had two employees inside.

Raven listened from outside.

"...they said to clear only the Route Four records."

"We still haven’t received a full order."

"The caravan failed."

"That doesn’t mean we compromise the entire station."

Raven memorized both voices.

He waited until one man left.

Then entered behind him.

Hand over mouth.

Arm around throat.

Three seconds.

Unconscious.

The second man turned too late.

Raven caught his wrist before he could reach the alarm crystal and slammed his temple against the desk.

He didn’t need to kill them.

Yet.

He searched the room.

Route ledgers.

Lot lists.

Coded names.

Seals.

He took everything he could carry without making it obvious the room had been emptied.

Then he noticed a second door.

No handle.

Black Mithril reinforced the frame.

FORGE reacted.

[Low-Purity Black Mithril Detected.]

[Mana-Interference Reinforcement Present.]

Raven pulled out one of the stolen credentials.

Nothing.

He tried the dead Elite’s.

Still nothing.

He needed another way in.

Then he heard footsteps.

A lot of them.

Not coming toward him.

Toward the courtyard.

Valeria had escalated the distraction.

Raven smiled faintly.

He went through an interior window into the adjoining room, circled around the corridor, and found a staircase leading down.

That was new.

The prisoner hadn’t mentioned it.

Raven followed.

The smell worsened.

Blood.

Alchemical alcohol.

Flesh.

Burned mana.

He descended one level.

Two guards.

Level Seventeen.

Level Nineteen.

Low Awakened.

He didn’t need to fight both head-on.

Raven tossed a coin toward the opposite end of the corridor.

One guard looked.

The other didn’t.

Better training.

Raven waited.