Chapter 564: A Fish Trying To Survive; A Fisherman That Won’t Leave It
(Author’s POV)
"Don’t try to piss me off any further, ummhmm~ ... Elder Richards," Denver sounded cocky.
Seeing his attitude, Catherine’s fists curled, but the next second she unclasped them. She knew this wasn’t the right time to lose her temper. First of all, this unorthodox place was Denver’s den. No one knows what trick he might pull off in here. He is a weirdo and madman~ ... after all. And secondly, there were important matters they needed to discuss. Wasting time over an insignificant human girl, she didn’t consider it wise.
But, since earlier, something has been bothering her. Those iffy, mocking voices had gotten under her skin, so she asked straightaway, "Who is Derbie? What were those laughs? Those creepy voices? Was it part of your illusion magic?"
"Ahhaaa~ ... those voices. Illusion magic, pffftttt ... nahh. It’s nothing like that. I totally forgot about them, my bad, my bad. Let me introduce you to them," Denver uttered in a nonchalant tone. He clapped his hands twice, and soon the concealing spell he had cast dispersed, revealing something that jolted Catherine to the core. Her eyes went wide.
She tried to hide it, but the look of shock was quite evident on her face. She thought, ’What the heck is even this?’
Denver chuckled lightheartedly, expecting the reaction, "These~ ...." He waved his hands, "~are my precious private collections, in my own little biorepository." His voice reverberated.
The room was filled with cages trapping wild, exotic animals as well as were-species. The high walls were lined with packed shelves holding countless specimen containers containing both recognisable and non-recognisable beings. Denver walked around freely, his steps halted right in front of a gilded cage housing a bison with weird-looking horns and multiple scars. ’No, they are not horns but something similar to a deer’s antlers. Even its raised tail is just like a deer’s,’ Catherine couldn’t help but stare at the creature.
"This is~ ... Ion—my prized bison. Thanks to my successful mutation experiment, I have partly turned him into a deer," His tone was filled with pride.
Ion, in a submissive tone, greeted him, "Master~ ...." Hisad lowered in respect as if he had already surrendered to his fate.
Next, he walked towards a plain-looking baby fawn who was huddling in a corner, her eyes downcast, "This is your~ ... Derbie. The antlers and tail on Ion’s body were given to him by her mother. A price to keep her daughter unharmed. Stupid creature, right? So much for that damned motherly love. She even sacrificed herself, hehh~ ...." he mocked, his lips curving upwards, without a tinge of guilt. "That foolish creature thought I would spare this chick after that. Haahhahahha~ .... you know a deer’s heart is good for vitality. It makes for good rune stones with similar abilities. But it should be carved out at the right time. So, I am only waiting for that."
He went on to introduce other caged beings with much enthusiasm. There was not a shred of shame or even remorse in his voice, only a rare, sickening thrill and a display of exuberance.
Catherine didn’t know what to even say to this. She knew from the start that Denver Brooks was a total lunatic. She has only ever tolerated him because he has been a gifted alchemist, and she needed him to get rid of Jacob. But seeing his madness with her own eyes was jaw-dropping to say the least. These magical mutation experiments have been banned, and even a special treaty was signed by all the clans. But he was freely using forbidden magic.
"Now that I showcased my collection, let’s get down to some real business," he shrugged off casually. Turning around, he took his seat, which was placed in the middle of the vast room, studded with shimmering gold stones.
With a sway of his hand, the dark mist shackling Catherine’s joints was removed, but this time, it had left bruise marks on her skin. "Elder Richards, you can take a seat now," he said, gesturing to her with his hand. "You sent word, wanting to talk to me. What is it about?"
With her left hand, she gripped the opposite wrist and bit down on her lower lip. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the spare chair and settled in. Her sophisticated side was on as she crossed her legs elegantly. "The incident at today’s meet-up. It was your doing?
"Not a hard thing to guess, though so much bloodshed made me a little queasy," he pretended to gag and then laughed. "Hahaa~ ... honestly, the initial plan was hammered, so with no choice left, I had to resort to plan B," he commented. "After all, I promised to remove that mutt from the picture for you, my dear partner, didn’t I?"
"What was your initial plan then?" Catherine queried.
He spoke in such a bone-chilling way with a warm smile, "Umm~ .... nothing special~ .... it was just that, I had prepared a rare, premium quality rose wine for toasting: spiked it with a tinge of colourless, odourless, tasteless poison, one of my homegrown specialities. For a vampire, it would feel like plain drinking water, no harm, but for a human being, even a few sips of the drink are fatal. It would give the illusion of getting into cardiac arrest with an immediate death sentence." His eyes were glinting. "If not for that bastard of a merman, Morven, that plan would have succeeded without a hitch. And that sewer rat, Fabian, he would have been out of the picture on the spot." Denver murmured, frustratingly. ’That’s why he sent the message for me to raise the toast,’ Catherine recalled the text she received from him.
"Anyways, "But don’t worry, this one would work as well. You know, weak-willed fools like Shaun Hart are the easiest to manipulate with or without magic. I didn’t really have to lift even my finger, and he was entrapped," Denver said smugly.
"But why did he point the stake towards Jacob, not Fabian, hmm?" Catherine raised another question. "What if he had really stabbed Jacob? What then, huhh? Do you realize how catastrophic it would have been? If I take the throne like that, every single clan leader will turn against me. Trying to kill him behind the shadows in one thing, but doing it so openly~ .... they would never submit to me."
"Richards~ .... Richards~ .... you are thinking way too much. Do you think I would have let that guy stab Larson? I had calculated everything in advance. It was all part of my plan. That puppet, Shaun Hart, aimed the stake at the Larson only because I wanted it to look that way," Denver told her. "That boy, Fabian Stephens, he is boundlessly loyal towards Larson, another freak with a familial love syndrome. Anyway, seeing his grandfather getting attacked, especially after what happened, how could he remain still, hmm? There is one more thing that I got to know. Today happens to be his parents’ death anniversary. So, I thought it was a perfect day for a family reunion," he winked.
"But that bastard child is not dead yet. Even after that, he is fighting tooth and nail. What if he survives this? As for Jacob, I think he has sensed something off and is getting suspicious of us. That guy wouldn’t let the matter slide so easily," Catherine remarked, clenching her teeth. She recalled the incident from two decades ago. How, on Jacob’s orders, she and Brian were house arrested for three years. What humiliation she had to face back then.
Denver let out an exhausting sigh and shook his head, then said, "Do you know how a fish that is out of water reacts? It flitters, struggling with all its might to survive and get back into the river. But does it succeed?" he was word playing.
Catherine remained silent as he continued, "I am the fisherman of the boat. With me keeping close watch, do you think I will let any of them off? Hahhh~ .... that grandfather-son duo is in my grasp now. I won’t let them drift away, not a chance. Right about now~ .... that mutt is in the operating room, fighting for his life. But that poor little loyalist isn’t going to make it. I can guarantee it to you."
"But what about the ongoing investigation?" Catherine remarked. "What if Jacob tracks us back?"
"Why are you behaving apprehensively? That’s so out of character for you, Richards? Don’t spend so much time with that clueless Tape. You are turning into one. I already said you need not worry anymore. I have arranged everything. A weak-bodied Jacob Larson is one of my pawns now. He can search however he wants, but won’t get a single thing on you or me. His investigation will only lead him to a dead end," Denver sounded utterly confident. "You just need to keep the end of your deal and open the portal for the land of half-immortals when I tell you to. Okay?" Saying this, he traced the tattoo inked on his forearm.
To Be Continued . . . . . . . .
