Chapter 90: Tracking II

Chapter 90: Chapter 90: Tracking II

Leaning back against the rusted iron frame of the old comms tower, Eric tapped his smartband and made a quick call.

"Alena," Eric spoke into his comms, watching three glowing blue dots pulse against the palm of his glove. "I’m sending you my coordinates. Head over here. I found their trail."

"Got it," Alena’s voice came through crisp and clear. "Stay hidden. I’m on my way."

Twenty minutes later, a quiet shadow slipped down the dark alley below.

Alena had thrown a hooded traveling cloak over her body, hiding the glowing blue lines of her armor from the streetlights. But even under plain cloth, she walked with the straight, confident stride of a trained expert.

Eric hopped down to the pavement and waved her over.

"Over here," he whispered, guiding her away from the main road into a run-down, half-empty automated cafe.

The place was dead quiet. The only thing moving was a squeaky old drone hanging from a ceiling track, pouring cheap coffee into paper cups.

Eric led her to a corner booth under a flickering bulb.

"Sit," he said, pulling out a chair with a light squeak against the tile floor. "Nobody’s listening here."

Alena pushed back her hood, letting her black hair spill over her shoulders. Her sharp red eyes locked right onto him.

"What did you find?" she asked.

"I tagged three of their street collectors with Tracking Runes," Eric said, leaning over the table. "The problem is, we still don’t know where their actual hideout is. The outskirts of Riverdale are full of old mines, busted train tunnels, and storm drains. If we just run around kicking doors, their lookouts will spot us and hide or try to ambush us before we even get close. But these three guys have to go back to their base eventually. And my tracking runes will stay active for an entire week."

Alena listened quietly, then gave a small nod.

"Smart. Catch them when they head home. So we just watch and wait for now?"

"Yeah," Eric said. He pulled a smooth, glowing pebble from his pouch and slid it across the table. "Take this Beacon Stone. As long as you’re within two miles, it pulls straight toward the anchor. We just keep our distance and follow the signal."

Alena picked up the pebble, feeling the faint hum of mana inside it.

"That covers the first guy," she noted. "What about the other two?"

"I can trail the second one, and I can give the third stone to Coal," Eric said, tapping his shoulder where the black crow sat under his cloak. "Between my footwork and Coal in the air, we can keep tabs on both."

Alena frowned slightly, turning the small stone in her fingers.

"A big black bird flying over the city with a glowing rock might tip off their guards," she said. "I have a better tool for that."

She held out her hand, aiming her palm at the floor.

VUUUM.

A pitch-black summoning circle flared to life against the floorboards, kicking up a puff of dark mist that smelled faintly of burnt herbs. The temperature in the little cafe dropped in a snap as a small figure stepped out from the smoke.

Eric leaned back in his seat, eyes wide.

The creature barely reached his waist. It was lean and tiny like a kid, but packed with an absurd amount of mana. Its skin was bright crimson, with two black horns curving back over long, pointed ears. A skinny tail flicked lazily behind it, and a pair of folded bat wings rested against its back.

Weirder still, it was dressed in crisp streetwear, a tight black undershirt, a sharp white cropped jacket, and black pants. When it opened its mouth, it showed off a grin full of sharp shark teeth.

"An... imp?" Eric muttered.

He blinked, letting his Appraisal kick in.

│ Race: Dark Imp

│ Rank: S

│ Stage: Captain

│ Level: 2

Eric swallowed hard.

*Rank S. And it’s already Captain Stage.*

Back in Riverdale, almost everyone contracted common beasts, dogs, cats, birds, snakes. High-tier stuff like Demons and Angels were legendary creatures only the noble families ever got to touch. Seeing an S-rank Imp just casually standing here reminded him just how ridiculous House Blackthorn’s authority really was.

"Yes," Alena said, noticing his shock. "He’s a Dark Imp." She looked down at the tiny creature. "Impy, show him."

"Hehehehe~"

The little imp gave a raspy chuckle.

POOF.

A burst of purple smoke exploded around it. When the air cleared, the red demon was completely gone.

Standing there instead was... Eric.

Same messy black hair, same lean frame, same boots, same drake-leather gear, even the same slight tilt to his brow.

"What the hell?!" Eric shot straight up from the booth, staring at his own face in disbelief.

"Hehehehe!" The fake Eric slapped a hand over his mouth, giggling with that exact same pointy-toothed grin, his eyes squinting with pure mischief.

Alena couldn’t help a small smirk. "He’s a shapeshifter. As long as he’s seen someone, he can copy their body, even their clothes. With him around, we can track all three targets at the same time without spreading ourselves too thin."

Eric looked from Alena to the copy of himself, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Okay... that’s actually pretty handy," Eric admitted, pulling out the third Beacon Stone and tossing it over.

The fake Eric caught it with one hand, flashing a goofy thumbs-up while snickering into his sleeve.

"Alright, Impy, don’t mess up," Eric muttered. He looked back at Alena, his eyes turning serious. "Everyone knows their job. Let’s move."

They didn’t waste any time.

Alena headed toward the docks to trail the second guy. Impy, still running around with Eric’s face dashed into the eastern alleys, bounding over fences without making a sound.

Eric stepped out into the freezing night air, pulling his cloak tight. In his hand, the first stone gave a soft, rhythmic buzz.

*About a mile west. Still moving.*

Eric crouched low and pushed off the ground.

Shadow Steps.

His boots hit the edge of a tin roof without making a sound. He glided smoothly across the dark rooftops, keeping his presence buried low while Coal circled high in the clouds, watching from above.

*Keep an eye on the rail line, Coal*, Eric sent through their bond. *Tell me if he hops on a train.*

Caw.

The crow’s answer was quiet and steady.

For the next two days, it was just pure waiting.

The first thug, the one Eric had knocked out behind the dumpster earlier clearly had no clue there was a tracking stone sitting in his pocket. He spent the daylight hours loafing around noodle carts and gambling joints, then casually ambled between back-alley pawn shops and shake-down alleys by night, pocketing credits and low-tier mana cores without a care in the world.

Eric kept a quiet rotation, alternating between resting at home, checking in on Emily and the kids, and maintaining surveillance from the high ridgelines.

Then, near midnight on the third day, the pebble in Eric’s hand suddenly began to pulse faster.

BZZT.

His smartband buzzed.

"Target two just got into an unmarked truck," Alena’s voice came over the line, calm and flat. "Heading north along the bypass, around forty kilometers an hour."

A second later, a short message popped onto his screen from Impy:

[TARGET THREE RUNNING. NORTH TRACKS. VERY FAST HEHEHE.]

Eric checked his own stone.

Right on cue, his guy hurried out the back door of a card parlor, checked his watch, and broke into a fast jog toward the old freight station.

All three signals were heading the exact same way.

"Alena, Impy," Eric whispered into the mic, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto the route. "All three are heading straight for the abandoned Black-Iron Mine by the mountains. They’re probably heading back to base."

"Got it," Alena said. "Meet me on the ridge above the valley. Don’t start a fight until we scope the place out."

Eric didn’t answer with words, he just took off running across the roofs, closing the distance under the cover of the night.

*The trail was finally leading right to the front door.*