The Lower District of Astoria was a place the nobles pretended didn't exist. Cramped buildings, narrow alleys, and a population that lived day-to-day with little hope of advancement. Crime was rampant, City Guard patrols were rare, and people disappeared regularly without investigation.
Perfect hunting ground for a serial killer.
Marcus spent three days gathering information, using his student identity to blend in. He'd changed into commoner clothes—still large, still obviously well-fed compared to the district's residents, but carrying medical supplies and claiming to be a charitable alchemist offering free healing potions to the poor.
It was a surprisingly effective cover. People talked to someone offering help.
"The Surgeon?" An elderly woman shuddered when Marcus asked. "You don't want to know about him, young man. He takes people in the night. Street workers, beggars, anyone vulnerable. They find the bodies days later, all carved up like... like he was practicing medicine on them."
"How many victims in the past month?" Marcus asked, offering her a healing potion for her arthritis.
"Three that I know of. Maybe more that haven't been found." She accepted the potion gratefully. "City Guard doesn't care. We're just poor folks to them."
Marcus gathered similar stories from a dozen sources. The pattern emerged:
Victims taken between midnight and 3 AM Always alone, always vulnerable Bodies found 2-3 days later in abandoned buildings Surgical precision in the wounds—organs removed cleanly No witnesses, no survivors, no descriptions of the killer
"The Surgeon" was careful, intelligent, and had been operating for two years without leaving useful evidence. That suggested either magical concealment or deep knowledge of the district's layout.
Marcus spent his evenings mapping the Lower District from rooftops, wearing his Phantom identity. He marked every location where a body had been found, creating a pattern map.
The kills clustered around a specific area—six square blocks near the old textile factory that had closed five years ago. That was his hunting ground.
On the fourth night of surveillance, Marcus positioned himself on a rooftop overlooking the district's main thoroughfare. His Wraith Cloak made him nearly invisible in the darkness, and his enhanced Bronze Rank senses let him observe far more than normal humans.
At 1:47 AM, he saw it.
A cloaked figure moved through an alley below, following a drunk man who was stumbling home. The figure's movements were wrong—too smooth, too predatory. And the magical signature was Silver Rank - Mid Stage, exactly matching the bounty description.
Marcus's heart rate elevated. This was it.
He tracked the figure from rooftop to rooftop, staying directly above. The cloaked person herded the drunk man toward an abandoned warehouse, using subtle magic to keep him disoriented.
When they entered the warehouse, Marcus moved.
He dropped from the rooftop to a second-story window, using his Shadowstep Boots to land silently. Through the grimy glass, he could see into the warehouse's main floor.
The cloaked figure had removed their hood, revealing a woman in her thirties with sharp features and cold eyes. She was arranging surgical tools on a table with meticulous care—scalpels, bone saws, clamps, all enchanted with preservation magic.
The drunk man was unconscious on an operating table, bound with magical restraints.
"The Surgeon" began to work, and Marcus looked away. He didn't need to see this. He just needed to wait for the right moment.
She was so focused on her victim that she didn't notice Phantom entering through a side door. Marcus moved between old machinery and crates, closing the distance silently.
Thirty feet away. Twenty. Fifteen.
"The Surgeon" suddenly spun around, her hand already moving through a spell gesture. "I wondered when you'd come for me, Phantom."
She'd known he was there. Had probably known for several minutes. Silver Rank perception was no joke.
"You're known for your transmutation," she continued, her voice clinical and detached. "Turning victims to gold. I've been curious about the mechanism. Perhaps I'll discover it after I dissect you."
She threw her scalpel.
The blade moved with Silver Rank speed and precision, aimed for Marcus's throat. He dodged, but barely—she was fast.
Three more scalpels followed in rapid succession, each one finding a different angle. One grazed his shoulder, cutting through his Wraith Cloak. Another he deflected with his dagger. The third he dodged entirely.
"Interesting reaction time for Bronze Rank," she observed, pulling out a bone saw that hummed with cutting enchantments. "Are you perhaps higher rank in disguise?"
Marcus didn't respond. He threw one of his poisoned daggers at her.
She deflected it with a barrier spell, and the dagger clattered against the far wall. But that had been a feint.
Marcus rushed forward under cover of the throw, his other poisoned dagger aimed for her midsection.
"The Surgeon" was ready. She blocked his strike with her bone saw, the enchanted tool actually stopping his Null-Steel dagger. Then she kicked him hard in the chest with Silver Rank enhanced strength.
Marcus flew backward, crashing into a crate. His Guardian Amulet absorbed most of the impact, but he still felt his ribs protest. She was stronger, faster, and more experienced.
This wasn't going to be easy.
"You're outmatched," she said calmly, advancing with her bone saw. "Silver Rank versus Bronze Rank. You should have brought more assassins."
Marcus activated his 100x Effect.
100X EFFECT ACTIVATED. DURATION: 30 MINUTES.
Power exploded through him. His Bronze - Low Stage cultivation suddenly multiplied to what felt like Platinum or even low Diamond Rank. The world seemed to slow down as his perception enhanced exponentially.
"The Surgeon's" eyes widened as she felt his aura spike. "That's... how are you—"
Marcus moved with supernatural speed, crossing the distance between them in a blur. His poisoned dagger lashed out, and this time she couldn't block fast enough.
The blade caught her across the forearm, cutting deep.
Legendary-grade Serpent's Whisper entered her bloodstream.
"What have you done?!" She staggered back, feeling the poison take effect. Her Silver Rank constitution fought against it, but even Silver Rank couldn't fully resist a Legendary-grade poison.
Ten seconds. Her bone saw fell from nerveless fingers.
"Antidote... I need..." She pulled a vial from her robes with shaking hands.
Marcus transmuted it to crystal before she could drink it. The vial shattered in her grip.
Twenty seconds. "The Surgeon" collapsed to her knees, blood leaking from her nose. "Please... I have information... about other killers... I can tell you—"
"I'm not interested in negotiations," Phantom said coldly.
Thirty seconds. She fell forward, dead.
Marcus stood over her body, breathing hard. The fight had lasted less than a minute, but she'd been skilled enough to almost kill him before he'd used his trump card.
He looked at the drunk man on the operating table, still unconscious but alive. Marcus cut his bonds and left him there—he'd wake up eventually with no memory of what had happened.
Then Marcus turned his attention to "The Surgeon's" corpse.