Chapter 296: Forgotten Enemies

Moulin sees the leering eyes from above him. Those group of sleazy gazes intends to strip him bare for their own selfish reasons. Leaning on the poorly built balcony, it almost looked like the wood would snap under the force of their arms and hands. Puffing out clouds of smoke from their mouths, the men chattered with each other and whispered in the ears of the people they imprisoned in their arms. The captives didn't look unwilling either.

Currently, Moulin and the others were led towards the building, three stories high, decorated with the light of orange and red giving off a provocative vibe along with the strange haze that enshrouds it. It appeared to reveal itself from the fog. At least, it is what Moulin thinks. People were walking around the area, some drunk while others looked as if they were stuck in an endless daze, gazing into the hypnotizing red light of the structure. Moulin narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Indeed, not a single thing is right about the place. 

"Keep moving..." The man forcibly pulled Moulin forward, making sure his act was believable as soon as they reached the building entrance. Multiple eyes were studying them as they passed like predators assessing their prey. Moulin and the others ignored them no matter how uncomfortable it was. They must focus on their mission. 

The entrance was an open doorway, no doors or curtains concealing the dark tunnel-like interior. However, there were people, armed and buff, guarding the entrance. The tallest and most suspicious-looking man stepped forward and faced Nhero, who was the person at the lead of the group. 

"State your business..." He said. Moulin almost wanted to raise his head and cock a brow. 

Nhero was composed as he looked at the man straight in the eye. There was not the faintest presence of doubt in his eyes. He answered. "We've brought captives from the boundary. New... flesh." 

Moulin felt Jagra flinch behind him as the last word was spoken. Moulin could agree. It was beyond unpleasant to his ears. 

The man facing Nhero raised his brows. He tilted his head to look at the 'captives' himself. "Why are they hooded?"

"Ah, you see. I've caught good ones this time. I ought to surprise the mistress." Nhero replied with pride in his smile. His confidence annoyed the man. 

"Hemp, I shall see for myself..." He walked past Nhero, bumping Nero's shoulder in the process. He left a smug glare as he eyed the people tied in a line. One by one, he rudely pulled down the hood concealing the men with Moulin. 

"Hm..." The man raised his brows.

He looked convince, Moulin thought. Just when he felt the man would pass by him, the man paused. He slowly turned his head towards Moulin. It was clearly a man, he thought. However, the distinct slender curves made him think twice. He raised an eyebrow curiously. Moulin wanted to yank himself away from the man's gaze, but he couldn't.

The man reached out his hand and pulled down the hood forcibly. Moulin inwardly made an irritating sound as his face was revealed. The locks of silvery hair fell down his forehead as he lowered his gaze.

The man widened his eyes. He raked his gaze all over the young man's face, and when it wasn't enough, his filthy fingers grabbed Moulin's jaw and forced the youth to meet his gaze. Silver eyes, fair skin, exquisite face. The man couldn't help but whistle. Indeed, what a catch this was. This young man could rake in tons of benefits to them. 

"Don't touch him..." 

Moulin glanced at Jagra, who was glaring daggers at the man holding him. The man seemed to find his ferocity adorable. He let go of Moulin and then grabbed Jagra's hood down. He lets out a satisfied hum. "This one looks good too. You think about what happens to yourself, little man. You might end up like your friend here. For what we have planned for him, you won't like it."

"..." Jagra narrowed his eyes sharply. He didn't even falter. 

"Enough." Nhero interrupted. "These aren't for you to evaluate. I'm taking them to the mistress." 

"Tsk!" The man waved off Nhero. His eyes burned as he grudgingly walked to the entrance. None of Nero's words pleased him, but it was true that he had no power over what happens to the new flesh Nhero brought. He was sure the mistress would want him to be more easy on Nhero after this. Lucky Bastard. The mistress would most likely pay him well. 

"Let them in!" The man ordered. In an instant, the men by the doorways stepped aside and allowed Nhero and his group entry. 

Moulin raised his tied hands and covered his head with the hood of his cloak. The others did the same. The walkway was dark as they entered. Once the last of them were inside, the men guarding the doorway immediately blocked the entrance like a wall. Moulin could feel the leader of the men eyed him again. Moulin could only lower his head, imprinting the man's face in his mind. If he'd have the time, he would deal with the rat. 

He hoped Hadrian and the others were able to sneak inside while the guards were distracted. 

................................

Red beaded curtains are parted for their entry. Moulin was greeted with the pungent smell of burnt paper, booze, and something strong and unusual. The red lights flashed as their beams pass over their eyes. It was loud, and the murmurs grew as they walked. Moulin raised his gaze and was welcomed with the sight of naked men and women roaming around and accompanying guests on their tables and booths. Smoke made the area hazy and hard to look at. However, Moulin could see the depravity around him, harness by the helplessness and hopelessness of the people rotting in the misery of this city. There was laughter, but to Moulin's ears, it was sounded filthy and disgusting or perhaps... forced.

"Ah, Nhero! I've heard of your successful harvest!" A tall man came. His bare torso was covered in ink and scars. His eyes were bloody red against the dark and absolutely terrifying under the light. He slapped a woman's bare behind as he made his way towards Nhero and Moulin's group. The rakish grin on his face was ominous. But what caught Moulin's eye was the long tail that swayed behind him and the parking feline ears atop his head. 

"Arye," Nhero called the orc neared him. "I was lucky."

"Indeed." Arye's grin grew wider. Suddenly, His nose sniffed the air briefly before he paused. "Maeruthans..."

Moulin's eyes secretly widened. He felt the uneasiness of his comrades radiate towards him, and he suppressed the need to trigger the communication device Emlen had given him. 

"What did you say?" Nhero drew his brows together. 

"Nothing." Arye laughed. He took in a deep breath as though he was stuffing his lungs with air. His eyes grew sharp, but his grin never faded. It appeared as if he had found something interesting to play with. "I have to look out for pests intruding the facility. The mistress doesn't like animals crawling on her roofs."

"I see..." Nhero nodded. He shoved his doubt and anxiety deep down before he regained his confidence. "Then I shall see the mistress."

"She's entertaining someone. Perhaps, have all of your harvested flesh move to the playrooms. Let them be seasoned by our experienced stallions and-"

Out of the blue, a muscular man came and interrupted. "The mistress is expecting you, Nhero."

Arye's smile seemed to twitch. He slowly met Nero's eyes and frowned. "It seems she is...:

The man gestured to the door at his right, and Nhero nodded at Arye before he followed the man's lead. Moulin glanced at Arye as he walked past him. However, as if sensing Moulin's stare, the beastman turned his eyes and accidentally met those piercing silver eyes. Moulin blinked hesitantly, changing the look in his eyes into something fragile in a split second before he was taken away. 

'Damn it...' Moulin hoped he hadn't sparked triggered anything troublesome in the beastman's head.

They were led inside a quieter room. The wooden floor creaked under their feet, and the orange lights on the ceiling flickered faintly before working flawlessly as soon as they entered. 

The man who led them inside exited, closing the door behind him, leaving Nhero and his men alone in the expansive room. After a few seconds. Nhero exhaled deeply. He turned to his head and nodded at Moulin, giving the signal that they were momentarily safe.

Jagra and the others sighed. They twisted their restrained wrists before raising them to Nero's men beside them. The men were quick and quickly untied the ropes.

"We have to be quick," Nhero spoke. "The mistress' men will arrive soon. There is a secret passage in the ceiling. Your men will have to use it to search the private rooms." 

Moulin nodded. He turned to the men behind him, and they quickly understood the serious look he was giving. After they were all released, one of Moulin's comrades lifted Jagra to pushed the loose wooden aside to reveal the opening in the ceiling. One by one, Moulin watched as a few of Nero's men, as well as Moulin's comrades, climbed into the opening. When six of their men have successfully entered, Moulin glanced at Nhero before he stepped forwards for his turn to reach the opening.

Click!

"!!!"

Moulin and the rest swiftly turned to the door across the room. The knob began to turn. Left with no choice, Moulin told the people in the opening to go and find Hadrian and the others. Pushing Emlen's panicked look and Hadrian's possible crazed intent to dismiss the mission and find him, Moulin only hoped they could buy the others enough time to find this man who oversees the boundary to the north.

Creak!

In time the opening was shut closed, and the door opened at the same time. Moulin lowered his head and secretly bound his wrists loosely with the rope. The rest of the men silenced themselves hoping to dismiss anything suspicious about the air around them.

Moulin heard footsteps, six pairs of it. The door remained open as if intentionally. 

Meanwhile, Nero's smile stiffened as he faced the person entering the room. He clenched his fists as he appeared to turn around to face Moulin and the others casually. The young man slightly lifted his gaze to meet the leader's look before lowering his head again. Judging from Nero's expression... this person must be the person they were looking for...

Moulin secretly sighed, feeling slightly relieved. The target came to reveal himself to them, saving them the hassle of finding him. Thank god he made this easy for them.

...

Slowly, Moulin raised his gaze to imprint the man's features carefully. 

...

Moulin froze. 

The man was indeed a maeruthan. That's not all. He knew this man. Moulin recognized him at one glance. Just when he thought the rats he had previously forgotten wouldn't come back in his life... fate played with him again.

How small was this world?

"Nhero, isn't it?" A smooth, relaxed voice spoke. Young and manly. However, it sounded like spoons scraping plates in Moulin's ears. 

Of all people, why was it Quade Accrius? The bastard who ruined the original Moulin's life.