Chapter 637: A Group of Women

When Benjamin continued, the words were measured and thoughtful, carrying the substance of something he had considered before.

“Erica, there is a great saying where I’m from: ‘If you see a fence in the middle of a field, do not remove it: discover the origin and history of the fence first, before making a decision.’ No authority or monarch will ever want a place like the Lot district to exist when they don’t follow the rules. Is that not treason?”

“What do you mean, Benjamin? We leave those people to continue suffering?” Erica’s voice rose a full pitch above its usual register, sharp enough to cut through the low, steady hush of the Lot street.

The words carried the weight of something older than the present moment — an anger that had lived with her for a long time, coiled somewhere behind her ribs and waiting for a reason to strike.

Her green eyes fixed on him, bright and unblinking, as though she could force a different answer out of him by sheer force of will.

Benjamin did not match her volume.

He kept his own voice level and low, the tone of someone unfolding a map rather than defending a position.

His pace did not change, and his hands stayed loose at his sides.

“I’m saying that taking those places down now might be the very reason a bigger calamity erupts—something Thaad might be trying to contain by allowing Lot to exist in the first place. We may not only cause problems for Thaad; we might end up on the mayor’s wanted list as well.”

The logic settled between them like a stone dropped into still water.

Erica opened her mouth. Whatever reply she had prepared dissolved before it could leave her tongue.

The reasoning was inconvenient and solid at the same time — the kind of reasoning that could not be argued away with passion or conviction.

She closed her lips again and bit down on the lower one. Her hands curled once at her sides and then forced themselves open again.

Benjamin reached out and gave her shoulder a single, steady pat. The gesture was brief, but it had the substance of someone who understood the cost of the restraint he was asking for.

“I also want to help the helpless,” he said, “but wisdom is profitable to direct. We are getting closer to one of them now. Please, behave yourself and act spectacularly. Listen to me carefully: we are magic researchers ourselves, and we only want to share our dark information with them in exchange for their own.”

Erica’s gaze dropped to the packed dirt of the street, then she squinted at the uneven ground as though the answer might be written in the cracks between the stones.

“W… Will that work?” The question came out smaller than her earlier protest, uncertain. “Won’t they be suspicious of us the moment we walk through the door?”

“Erica, they’ll be too absorbed by my offer to think properly.” Benjamin’s voice came with sound certainty, rather than hope. “I know how a researcher thinks, and it can be simpler than you expect when they’re close to what they’re looking for. I have one such researcher inside of me.”

(Note: He is referring to Sys.)

Erica lifted her eyes again, searching his face.

“But do you actually have dark information for them? Real information, not just clever words?”

“A lot.” Benjamin stated it as casually. “Actually, I almost destroyed the world in the past with what all of them are trying to create right now.”

Erica flinched at the implication. The movement was small — a brief tightening of the shoulders, a short intake of breath — but it was clear.

“If I show them the result of why they’ve been using people as specimens,” he continued, still in that same even tone, “they will drop to their knees and beg for the procedure… or they’ll threaten to kill me for it. Either way works.”

“Interesting… I suppose this is a good excuse to kill him, don’t you think so, girls?” A new voice slid into the quiet from behind them.

It was smooth and lightly amused, going just far enough to be heard without needing to be raised.

The tone was the tone of someone who had been listening for a while and had finally decided to announce themselves.

Both Benjamin and Erica turned at the same moment to find the owner:

A group of women stood a short distance down the street, arranged with easy confidence. They were not blocking the path or advancing.

A woman wearing a priestess-like robe of blue, gold, and white.

The fabric was cut with a high, deliberate slit along each side that shifted when she moved her weight from one foot to the other.

Blonde hair framed a face marked by pink-and-red heterochromic eyes.

She looked at Benjamin with the calm certainty of recognition, as though she had been searching for this exact face and had finally found it.

“There is no doubt,” she said, the words calm but absolute. “This is him…”

Beside her stood a cat beastkin.

Dark spots scattered across her skin and the visible golden fur along her arms and the edges of her face.

Green eyes assessed them both with bright, predatory interest.

She wore black shorts that hugged her thighs and waist the way athletic clothing did, paired with a dark top of the same close-fitting material and short sleeves.

Her tail flicked once behind her in a short, decisive motion.

“It didn’t take that long to find him, though…” She remarked, head tilting slightly to one side. “If that is a ‘him’ at all.”

A third figure stood a little apart from the others.

She was wrapped in a plain grey robe cinched at the waist with a simple belt.

Medium-length spiky hair showed four different colors at once, the strands catching what little light reached the narrow street.

Her dark eyes were expressionless, her face unreadable. The overall presence she had was calm and boyish, as though she preferred to observe rather than announce herself.