Chapter 12

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Tibalt needed to pay better attention to... just about everything, actually.

In his defense, he hadn't really had the time or attention span to put together two and two. There had been quite a lot of beastmen out in the streets the closer they got to the port district, and he hadn't really questioned the whole thing right up until the evidence was staring him in the face. He probably should have asked a few more questions.

Taro was a serpentine beastman. More specifically, he was a gorgeous serpentine beastman, with a long, black tail splotched with gold, curled up as a seat beneath him as he lounged on a bed of pillows and blankets like it was some kind of throne. With black eyes and sharp fangs, his gaze was piercing and direct as he studied the ragtag team before him. There were quite a lot of beastmen in the heart of his lair, and Tibalt would have complained about an audience, but Taro sending everyone out but Charm was somehow even more terrifying.

Tibalt had always been an introvert, but it was still easier to impress an audience of many instead of an audience of one.

"So, Guida is taking this seriously," Taro said lazily as he propped his chin in his hand to study the group. His eyes flicked over Tibalt and Elmer, and his mouth pressed into a flat line. "... Somewhat."

"We're not here to ride on our reputation, Taro," Grim said and crossed his arms as he shifted his weight to one hip. "We're here to stop a gang war."

"Oh? Is that so?" Taro asked and pushed himself off of his perch. "Grim Faretti, wasn't it? The eldest son?"

"That would be me, yes."

Seriously, how famous were the Farettis? Tibalt felt like he was missing something. And how well known was Grim in general?

"Well, Grim Faretti, if you're the leader, it's typically good manners to introduce your people," Taro said and a forked tongue flicked out to taste the unease in the air.

Taro was... unnerving, and not in the best of ways. Tibalt had always liked snakes, personally. But this was a very large and dangerous snake, and Tibalt wasn't keen on coming in here and immediately digging under his scales.

"This is my younger brother, Angel Faretti," Grim said and gestured somewhat politely as Tibalt beat back the urge to squirm in place. "Cleric of Mashao. Our companions, Elmer O'Gadhra, spatial mage and merchant, and Tibalt, gunslinger and artificer. We're not here to pay disrespect."

"Well, my patience is rather thin these days," Taro replied as he rose up to a fuller height, "so I would encourage caution nonetheless. It's been a stressful time, you see."

Were all mafia dons smooth and well spoken as a rule? Wait, that wasn't something that Tibalt needed to be worrying about.

"And we do apologize for adding to said stress, but we have a job to do," Grim responded, predictably grimly. "We've been commissioned by an anonymous source to determine the validity of the claims against Innes."

"There's no use playing games. If you weren't paid by Innes zimself, you were paid by Sophia," Taro shot back as he slowly slid off the mountain of the pillows towards them. Danger pinged in Tibalt's mind, and his eyes darted to Charm in the corner of the room, lazily reclined on a chair and annoyingly silent. He was just watching the proceedings. No help to be found there. "Charm has assured me that you are, as he puts it, disgustingly honorable, and don't belong in a place like this."

"Well, that's what I'm for," Elmer cut in, and Tibalt startled slightly at her abrupt appearance. Wait, what was she doing? "Much less honorable than the Faretti boys. More carnal minded, really."

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