Delilah was sitting by the columns when three unfamiliar figures approached her.

  “What’s a little girl like you doing in a place like this all alone?” one of them said. His head was hidden under a hood, but his face and smile were visible and there was something unpleasant in it.

  Delilah turned her head away, not wanting to look at them.

  “Ha-ha! She just ignored you. What a loser,” the second one said.

  “Shut up. I’ll show you how it’s done,” the first replied.

  He reached out to grab her shoulder, but Delilah sharply caught his hand. She was wearing gloves. With her other hand she struck his jaw, and he immediately collapsed to the ground.

  Delilah stood up. It was clear from her face that she was irritated.

  The first man lay on the ground, holding his face, while the other two instinctively stepped back.

  “Hey, why are you whining after a girl’s punch?” one of them said.

  The man on the ground got up, holding his mouth.

  “Bitch, you’re finished. I’ll grab you and sell you to a brothel as a whore. You’ll work like a damn horse until you die!” he growled and pulled out a long knife, either to cut her or simply to scare her.

  Delilah became even more irritated. She immediately took off her gloves and prepared to attack.

  “Bitch, you want to fight with your bare hands?! Then die, whore!” he shouted, swinging the knife.

  “Hey, idiot! We need her!” one of his companions yelled.

  “I don’t care!”

  He rushed forward, but Delilah calmly knocked his arm aside. In that very moment the attacker realized she was unbelievably strong.

  Delilah grabbed his jaw with her bare hand.

  The other two immediately tensed and took fighting stances.

  “Let him go, you bitch!!!” one of them shouted.

  The man she was holding suddenly saw her face.

  She was smiling and immediately released him and pushed him back.

  He staggered, rubbed his jaw, and laughed nervously.

  “Ha… idiot, you thi-”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. A bloodcurdling scream followed.

  The other two recoiled in horror as they watched his face begin to cover with black spots, as if something were spreading beneath his skin.

  “Hey… what’s happening to you?! Did she do this to you?!” one of them shouted, though he was too afraid to even approach.

  The man kept screaming, writhing in pain.

  A few seconds later he suddenly fell silent and dropped dead to the ground.

  The remaining two silently looked at Delilah standing between the columns — and then ran away in panic.

  She didn’t chase them.

  What interested her more were their words about the brothel they had planned to sell her to.

  She replayed that moment in her mind, then calmly walked in the direction the two men had fled. Not to attack them, but to follow. Perhaps they would lead her there themselves.

  Delilah’s lineage came from a world where people could sense the breath of life.

  They could feel every vibration of energy, every heartbeat around them. Within a radius of several dozen meters, Delilah could distinguish the presence of living beings almost as clearly as if she saw them with her own eyes. If she knew the description of a target, she could identify it among others without mistake. And if she had met someone before, she could find them even from a considerable distance.

  So for her, following those two was no problem.

  Even if they went several kilometers ahead, she would still feel their breath of life.

  And of course, they had no idea they were being watched.

  ______

  Phobos sat at the table in his clanmate’s base, sorting through the documents stacked in front of him in thick piles. They contained information about the village: gangs, internal structures, various factions, and new activity in different districts. The papers rustled one after another, but none of it was what he needed.

  There was nothing about the village leader.

  Phobos leaned back in his chair and thought. He had no idea what he could even grab onto to trace this man.

  At that moment the door opened, and his clanmate, known as Ombros, walked into the room.

  He approached the table and stopped beside it, holding something long wrapped in a towel.

  “So, did you manage to find anything useful, Phobos?” he asked.

  “Nothing interesting so far that could help find the leader.”

  “I see… Well, I brought the delivery you asked for.”

  He removed the towel.

  Underneath was a katana in its sheath, the one that had been taken from Phobos before he entered the village.

  “Though honestly, I don’t understand why the hell you need it,” Ombros continued. “You’ve used swords your whole life, and you always hated katanas. I could easily find you a stronger blade.”

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  Phobos set aside the document he was holding.

  “It’s not mine. I was given it temporarily. I’ll return it when I meet her again.” He calmly took the katana and placed it beside him.

  Ombros smirked.

  “Ah… so it’s hers…” He looked thoughtfully at the weapon. “Want me to send this katana straight to the clan? They’ll return it to her from there. I can pick something more suitable for you.”

  “No. I’ll handle it myself,” Phobos replied shortly.

  “Well, suit yourself. I’m off,” Ombros said. “I’ve still got another job to finish. I’ll be back late.”

  He left the room, and the door quietly closed behind him.

  Phobos was once again alone among the piles of documents. He continued sorting through the papers, carefully reading each line, hoping to find at least some kind of clue.

  _____

  Delilah stopped in front of the building on the black market where those two men had entered. The building had several floors and looked completely unremarkable - no sign, no name.

  But behind the doors she felt something that could not be described with words. A feeling so familiar and poisonous to her.

  She opened the door.

  Inside was an ordinary bar with tables and a counter. There were almost no visitors, only the bartender behind the counter and several large thugs sitting nearby. As soon as the door opened, all of them turned their heads at the same time and stared at her.

  The bartender carefully looked her up and down and calmly said,

  “Sorry, but the bar is closed right now. Come back later.”

  Delilah didn’t stop and didn’t turn back. She calmly walked closer to the counter.

  “Huh? Where are you going? I told you, the bar is closed. Come back later,” the bartender repeated, now slightly more irritated.

  The thugs beside him tensed up.

  Delilah stopped at the counter and simply smiled. The three of them looked at each other in confusion.

  “What? Why are you here?” the bartender asked.

  There was no answer. One of the thugs smirked.

  “Maybe she’s a bit off… and just got lost?”

  But Delilah paid no attention to them. Behind the wall behind the bartender she felt something else, something strong, heavy, a feeling of human suffering. Without saying a word, she raised her hand and pointed a finger in that direction.

  The bartender instinctively turned his head toward the wall.

  “Could she be one of those ?” flashed through his mind.

  He looked back at the girl. The thugs were already ready to grab their weapons, but the bartender slightly raised his hand, signaling them not to interfere.

  “So, you were invited here for ‘work’?”

  Delilah simply nodded.

  “Hm… such a young girl came here on her own?” he thought.

  The three exchanged glances. The bartender quietly sighed, then pulled a hidden lever under the counter. The wall behind him slowly slid aside, revealing a secret passage.

  “Follow me.”

  They went inside. The corridor was long, and countless doors stretched along both sides. From behind them came screams, not joyful ones, but desperate cries filled with pain.

  Delilah could feel everyone inside those rooms: fear, despair, humiliation. But one sensation struck her harder than anything else, among those emotions were ones that clearly did not belong to adults.

  She suddenly stopped.

  The bartender walking ahead also stopped and turned around.

  “What is it?”

  At that moment, the two men who had run from her earlier appeared from around the corner. Another man was with them, and they were just telling him what had happened. One of them looked up, noticed Delilah, and suddenly shouted,

  “It’s her!!! That bitch!!! She killed Unrus!”

  Everyone immediately turned toward her.

  The next second Delilah, without hesitation, grabbed the bartender’s face with her bare hand. He screamed in unbearable pain, but she had already rushed forward, charging after the three men.

  They tried to pull out knives and defend themselves, but they didn’t have time. Delilah touched them and that was enough. Their faces began to cover with black spots, their bodies twisted in convulsions, and within seconds they collapsed one after another onto the floor, writhing in hellish pain.

  The screams raised the alarm. From all sides thugs and guards began rushing into the corridor.

  Delilah didn’t stop.

  She picked up a knife and with one motion slit one attacker’s throat. She threw the knife straight into another man’s eye. The rest she didn’t even try to cut, touching them with her hand was enough. Every person she marked began screaming, fell to their knees, and soon died in agonizing torment.

  The guards attacked one after another, but they did not stand a single chance against her.

  While Delilah was dealing with the guards in the corridor, heavy footsteps sounded from the far hall. They were not like the running of ordinary people, each step echoed through the floor with a dull thud.

  A few seconds later, someone clearly different from the others rushed into the corridor.

  It was a huge crocodile-like man: tall, massive, with an elongated snout and thick scales covering his entire body. His shoulders barely fit in the narrow corridor, and the long claws on his hands looked more like short knives. He carried no weapon, he simply did not need one. His jaws alone were deadly enough.

  Seeing Delilah and the bodies lying around, the creature growled and charged at her without hesitation.

  Delilah looked at him with obvious irritation. Not long ago she had already fought a similar opponent a creature whose scales protected it from an ordinary touch. Such beasts did not die as easily as the others.

  The crocodile man opened his huge maw, intending to tear her apart.

  But at that very moment Delilah stepped forward and suddenly thrust the knife straight into its mouth, driving the blade into the upper jaw.

  The monster roared in pain.

  While it tried to close its jaws, Delilah, still gripping the knife, suddenly shoved her other hand straight into its throat.

  The crocodile man choked.

  His eyes widened, and he began to suffocate, trying to push her away, but Delilah had already pulled her hand out and stepped back, leaving the knife stuck deep inside its mouth.

  The creature began thrashing around the corridor, rasping and roaring. After a few seconds dark spots began spreading across its scales, and its body convulsed violently.

  It dropped to its knees.

  Its roar turned into a rasp.

  Soon the enormous body collapsed onto the floor with a heavy crash, dying in agony.

  Delilah stopped and caught her breath. Then she lowered her gaze to her hands they were covered in blood. Only now did she notice that her palm had been cut. When she had shoved her hand into the monster’s mouth, its sharp teeth had managed to graze her skin. She had acted too quickly and carelessly.

  She clenched her fingers, checking the wound, and then continued down the corridor.

  She had not even taken a few steps when a man suddenly jumped out from around the corner and struck her thigh with a bat with all his strength. The blow was sharp. Delilah froze for a second from the pain, but the next moment she turned and struck him with her bare fist straight in the jaw. Her touch was far more terrifying than the blow itself. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his face and writhing in pain.

  Delilah held her side for a moment and kept walking.

  Around the next corner stood even more people and creatures. They were clearly guarding a large heavy door at the end of the passage. When they saw her, they rushed forward.

  The fight was short but brutal. Several knives flashed through the air. Someone tried to grab her, someone tried to strike. But one by one they fell, screaming and twisting in pain.

  A few minutes later the corridor fell silent again. Delilah stood in front of the door. Her clothes were torn, and her hands and face were covered with blood both others’ and her own. She understood that someone important was behind it, and pushed it open.

  Behind it was a large office. In the middle of the room stood a massive desk, and beside a chair a man paced nervously. He was pale and constantly glancing toward the door. He did not understand what was happening, because as far as he knew he had long settled everything with the people of the black market, and his business was under their protection.

  From behind the door he had heard the screams of pain from his subordinates, and then suddenly everything had gone silent.

  He thought it was over.

  “A girl?!” the man said in shock. “They screamed like that because of you? What did you do to them?!”

  Delilah silently walked toward him.

  The man jumped up from the chair and began backing away.

  “Y-you… why did you come here? Maybe you need money? Or is this about your friends? Revenge? Tell me what you want!”

  Delilah came closer.

  He stumbled over the leg of the chair and fell to the floor.

  “No! Don’t kill me like them! I’ll tell you anything you want!”

  Those words made Delilah stop. She remembered that she had come to the village in the first place to find the leader. She took out a notebook and began writing.

  The man did not understand what she was doing, but he did not dare say anything.

  She quickly wrote a few words and turned the page toward him

  “TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT THE VILLAGE LEADER.”