The hell Vincent was presently experiencing was one I was quite familiar with; well, at least half of it was since it was a direct result of my implanting information directly into the man’s head.
I had been subjected to that very same pain time and time again, as even I am not immune to the side effects brought on by my talent skills.
Sure, I have my high Intellect stat to act as a buffer and reduce some of the pain. Still, the moment one of the languages I wasn’t innately familiar with triggered, it would feel as if someone were stabbing me multiple times over with a needle directly into my brain.
That isn’t to say I wasn’t used to it; in fact, I was quite accustomed to the pain as it was something that would occur anytime I overused my Talent or the skills in my Skill bar; however for Vincent, who had an assumed Intellect stat of around five if he had access to Arkadia, it was like getting dick punched a million times…only well, in the head.
Compliment that pain with the well-known side effects of the tech I used to alter his physical aesthetics on a genetic level, and I could pretty much guess how bad the pain he was going through felt.
Minutes turned to hours, and eventually, Vincent’s groans of pain became howls as he thrashed about, shedding blood from every orifice, including his pores.
All the while, I sat there atop my perch, watching, waiting, ready to react if things went too far into the red zone. While I didn’t initially go to the man’s aid, Vincent was still my puppet at the end of the day, and no matter his crimes or proclivities, he was TECHNICALLY my responsibility thanks to the contract, or at least until I had upheld my end of the bargain.
Twirling a vial of Health potion around my fingers, I watched Vincent as he flung his body around like a fish out of water for several hours, until early in the morning, and when the sun was peaking up over the horizon, Vincent’s screams died down to soft whimpers.
’That took a lot longer than I expected, hm; he seems to be physically alright, welp, better get him cleaned up so we can head out; it’s going to be a paint to buy a plane ticket without the internet, but whatever, I can always exchange Ark-Coins for cash and use that to pay for a ticket at the counter.’ Standing up and pulling out a box of wet wipes from my inventory, I lept down from the storage containers and pulled off a superhero, landing right in front of Vincent, whose eyes were still void of emotion as he looked up at me blankly with his new brown eyes.
"Clean yourself up, you look like shit, but it seems like my powers were quite helpful to you; heh, you won’t even recognize yourself anymore." Dropping the box of wet wipes, I also tossed out a compact mirror I had swiped from Amanda’s purse some time ago and had in my inventory.
Like a good little servant, Vincent didn’t audibly respond but instead bowed his head before taking hold of the wet wipes and cleaning his face before removing his shirt.
Fortunately, it was a dark color, so the blood didn’t show too much; however, based on how damp his shirt and slacks were, I knew there was no way we were getting on a plane with him wearing them.
’Sigh, this mother fucker better bring me some returns when he kicks the bucket because I keep hemorrhaging money the longer I am around him,’ with that thought, I quickly exchanged some coins for 10,000 British Pounds and shook my head.
Before we could even head to the airport, I would first have to get him a fresh suit or something professional-looking, which was bothersome but necessary if we were taking an international flight.
With his outfit out of the way, we would then need to hop on a train from Manchester to London; after that, it was a nearly 2-hour flight from London to Munich.
’Ahhh, my poor wallet, deep breaths, Taylor, this is all for your research and to push the timeline; passive gains are the best kind of gains, so long as Vincent stays active, I will be racking in points on the Descent Rankings, and that is all that matters.’
Mind you, it was never my intention to do something like this with every Serial Killer I hunted down; no, Harlow was an exception to the rule mainly because of his circumstances.
Being able to covertly kill off patients as a doctor was more beneficial to me than some loose cannon psycho who stalked their prey and killed them.
The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.
Meanwhile, someone like the Zodiac or the Culprit of the Smiley Face murders was more of a way to occupy my mind and scratch the itch that was my curiosity.
It didn’t take Vincent long to clean himself up and redress in his bloodied clothing, which was now crispy and crunchy, meaning he would no doubt need to get clean once again before changing his clothing; regardless, when I was eventually able to break out of my thoughts, I found the man kowtowing on the ground in front of me, waiting for some type of reaction.
"You may rise; I take it the physical alterations you were forced to suffer through are to your liking?" crossing my arms over my chest, I glanced down at him while keeping up a haughty façade.
"Indeed, milord, it’s astounding; my hair, facial structure, even my eyes have changed; your magic is powerful." Sitting up, Vincent chose to stay on his knees while addressing me with respect and a hint of awe in his monotone voice.
"Hm, twas just a small trick that I know; I will say, though, your body has changed drastically on a molecular level, with even your fingerprints and DNA being altered so as to separate you from your former identity."
"But I digress; we have things to do, and my time is limited, so our first order of business is getting you a decent change of clothes and some simple luggage, and then it’s off to the train station. If we are going to Germany, we must first head to London, so I hope you aren’t bothered by flying."