Chapter 218: Interrogation and Plans
Marcus’s lips trembled as he answered my question, “The Ferans… they’re still inside the prison. We keep them in a secured area that only Grandmaster Hugh and maybe four or five others can access.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Secured how?”
“It’s underground. Heavily warded. You need a entry token. Even if someone finds the location, they can’t get in without the token.”
I leaned in a little closer. “What are they doing to the Ferans?”
He looked away.
Steve stepped forward and casually cracked his knuckles. “You were doing great, man. Don’t lose momentum now.”
Marcus’s jaw clenched. He hesitated, but the violet Essence still clinging to his brain twitched under my control. A thin stream of blood dripped from his nose.
“They’re… running experiments,” he finally muttered.
“Experiments?” I echoed.
“To… to figure out how to use Ferans to control the Abominations.”
My mind stopped for a second.
Steve blinked. “Come again?”
Marcus’s voice was quieter this time.
“Ferans are….they’re an evolved form of the same beasts that eventually become Abominations,” Marcus said, his voice trembling.
“That’s why. There’s a connection—something in their blood or spirit. The researchers think that because Ferans came from the same origin, they might be able to control or influence the Abominations somehow.”
I stood still, the weight of that statement sinking deep.
If the Holts figured that out, if they really learned how to control the Abominations, and then unleashed them outside this realm, my world wouldn’t survive. The Empire was not prepared for such kind of situation where they have to face Abominations, Holts and other enemies all at once.
This entire realm was infested with those monsters. And someone out there wanted to turn them into weapons.
Steve whistled low. “That’s a stupidly dangerous plan. The Holts aren’t smart enough to pull that off. Who’s helping them?”
Marcus’s shoulders twitched, and he gave a small nod. “I don’t know who they are, but yeah… there are other people involved. Outsiders. From other worlds, I think. We just call them Contractors.”
“Contractors?” I repeated. “What do they do?”
“They fund everything. Provide techniques, tools… ideas. I only met two of them. Both wore masks and never shared names.”
Steve scoffed. “So the Holts really are puppets.”
I filed that away. I didn’t recognize the term Contractors, but I’d seen people like that before—those who stayed hidden while others carried out the dirty work.
I crossed my arms and asked, “Then why are they keeping the Nagas alive? And why are they forcing everyone in the prison to capture two Abominations?”
Marcus gave a weak shrug. “Again, I don’t know everything. But if I had to guess… more experiments. They’re probably testing different interactions. Seeing who survives, who mutates, who… transforms.”
Steve frowned. “Sounds like they’re playing god without knowing the rules.”
“Exactly,” I muttered.
I leaned closer, locking eyes with Marcus. “Who’s in charge of all this? Who gives the orders?”
“Grandmaster Hugh,” Marcus said without hesitation. “He’s the one running the operation here.”
That matched with everything I’d seen so far.
I continued calmly, “What’s his class? What level is he?”
“Class is called Living Poison. He’s somewhere between Level 270 to 280. Maybe more now.”
Steve raised his eyebrows.
“Living Poison? What does that do?”
Marcus swallowed. “His body is like a walking alchemy lab. Anything he eats, breathes, drinks—he can turn it into poison. Gas, liquid, solid—it doesn’t matter. Once it’s inside him, he can convert it and weaponize it. Spit it, sweat it, bleed it. Even his breath can become venomous if he wants.”
Steve blinked. “So he’s a giant poison sack with legs.”
Marcus gave a strained nod. “More like a living plague. The longer a fight goes, the worse it gets. The air around him starts turning toxic. Wounds don’t heal. His blood’s corrosive. Even being near him too long can start messing with your insides.”
I exhaled slowly. “That explains the haze I saw around him… and why the ground where he stood was dead.”
Marcus added, “He’s immune to almost everything—disease, poison, even elemental corrosion. And he can infect others with delayed symptoms. One scratch from him can turn fatal hours later.”
Steve frowned. “Disgusting.”
“Deadly,” I said. “We’ll need more than strength to deal with him. We’ll need preparation.”
I glanced at Steve. He nodded grimly.
I turned back. “Tell me more about the layout of the prison. Where’s the portal room?”
“There’s a central room in the underground prison,” Marcus said, voice shaky. “It’s surrounded by guards, and elders. But only Hugh and the Contractors have full access.”
“Are there any weaknesses?” I asked.
He hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Anything else?” I pressed.
He shook his head.
I tapped my fingers against my leg. Every detail helped.
I asked the final question that had been burning in my mind.
“Why me and Steve? Why did Hugh bring us here?”
Marcus looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“Why pull us into this realm? Why not just kill us during the fight?”
His answer came slowly. “I don’t know everything. But I heard Hugh say something… about your energy signature. He wanted to study it. Said it was too unique to waste.”
Steve raised a brow. “You got fancy energy now?”
I ignored him, eyes still on Marcus. That meant Hugh noticed something. Likely the Essence inside me.
“Anything else?” I asked.
Marcus hesitated, then finally muttered, “They’re planning something big. Soon. I don’t know the exact date, but the Contractors want to test full-scale control of Abominations. Release a pack in the wild and see what happens.”
Steve muttered, “We really need to get out of here.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly.
I looked down at Marcus, broken and bloodied, but alive.
“Thanks for cooperating. You’re done.”
He flinched, but I turned around and walked toward the door.
Steve followed. “What now?”
“We plan,” I said. “And then we break everything.”
“So,” he muttered, “we letting him live, or…?”
I stayed quiet for a moment.
“He’s seen too much,” Steve continued. “Knows our faces, powers, even the location of the pool. If he escapes or someone finds him… we’re done.”
“I’m aware,” I said, calm. “But he’s still useful. There might be more we can get out of him.”
Creation is hard, cheer me up!