29 Boundaries

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Unsurprisingly, the corridors stretching its length across the hotel premises were an elaboration of its opulent architectural design.

Walls gilded in golden flowers extended across the entire passageway, with taxidermies of animals marking each cross junction. From peacocks to tigers to wolves, the zoo massacred by guests downstairs continued to litter their corpses around the premises. This was no doubt that this was a luxurious hotel in Balto, where hedonism and bloodbaths were celebrated.

I really can't wait for this to be over.

Riftan Calypse stood quietly behind a screen partition. In yet another mishmash of styles, the screen had an oriental ink painting of a tiger stalking after a deer. As if mirroring the scene, Riftan checked out his surroundings before proceeding further.

Being in stealth mode was actually one of his strengths, despite his height and appearance. Growing up in an orphanage and of a distinct colour had taught him the importance to evade unwanted attention and get away from undesirable situations.

Under the pretence of an upset stomach, Riftan had Elliot covering for him in the hotel lounge. He then smoothly pickpocketed from a maid's pocket before grabbing an apron from the staff's changing locker. Like a stalking tiger in the shadows, the man then made his way up to the highest floor of the hotel where the VIP suites were.

Expectedly, this floor was the epitome of Balto aristocracy. Rococo paintings celebrating moral decadence were painted from walls to ceilings, flooding the corridors with scenes of lewd eroticism and cold-blooded battles.

Moreover, Balto's morbid obsession with dead animals continued on this floor. The species were in fact getting extremely rare here; illegal animal trafficking was certainly not an issue for them.

I can't imagine Maxi's horror here.

A flashing visual of her broken state came to mind — cheeks streaked with tears, face too stunned to articulate a single word. Riftan shuddered to clear the vision away.

Now is not the time.

Just then, Riftan could feel someone staring at his back. Turning around quickly, the man immediately groaned in disgust when he realised that it was a dead black panther gazing straight back into his eyes.

Ignoring the taxidermy, Riftan shifted his attention back. With light footsteps, he inched his way towards each presidential suite; careful to pick up any noise or movement that might give away his location.

"I'll be sure to share your regards to the pope."

Quahel Leon.

Stopping in his tracks, Riftan immediately hid behind a towering black wolf mounted to stand on his hind legs. Its size was exorbitantly large, reminding him of a dire wolf he had read from books. Moreover, the tactility of dead black canine fur was driving Riftan mad, but he had to maintain his sanity or risk losing cover.

"...him for his selfless contribution."

Someone replied Leon. The conversation was rather difficult to decipher, but Riftan could pick up the voice to be a woman probably in her late sixties. She had a peculiar accent that did not sound like a Balto, but still from a rather privileged upbringing.

Presumably, the informer was likely to be an ally of Leon's family; considering the latter was sharing her gratitude for the pope who resided in the central church of Osiriya. Most aristocrats in Balto were supportive of the conservative Church, where some families leaned as far as being facism.

If this informer was an ally, she was likely rallying support for the new Church in Balto and thus providing some intel.

"And to you too, Ruth. It's good to see you again, my old friend."

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