Another day, another Fourland thug beaten into the cobblestone pavement.

Amelia, masked and hood over her head, stood over the bloodied, bruised body of yet another synth dealer in over her head. She was a young felid woman, probably too young to fully realize the consequences of her actions. But stupidity was no excuse for willingly ruining the lives of everyone around her. No mercy given.

She wasn’t dead, though. She wasn’t even unconscious. Her tail twitched angrily, even if she laid on the pavement, unable to stand. If she had the physical ability to pounce and claw at her, she would.

Luckily, she was far beyond the point of a counterattack.

Amelia stepped back and slipped into the crowd of people looking on at this terrible sight of some supposedly innocent woman being brutalized by another. A few people recognized that she was the perpetrator, but were too shocked or too scared to do anything about it. By the time there was anyone who could have acted against her, she had already disappeared, strolling down the street to the end of the block.

Then, moments later, she circled back around at an intersection of walkways and went back to the felid woman. She had been helped to her feet, and almost immediately she began to run away. That was Amelia’s cue to follow.

It was not a difficult task, here. Beaten half to death, blood dripping from her hair, and certainly not able to focus enough to avoid tracking, it barely took any effort for Amelia to follow her all the way to the end of her path.

The sun sank below the skyline, the weather grew to a deep chill, and Amelia stalked her prey all the way across the city. The chase had started near Orctown, and now were in the southwest of the city, deep in the human neighborhood of New Saxonia. A felid here was already uncommon, but one heading straight to a large, unmarked building was downright suspicious.

With the woman completely unaware of Amelia’s existence, she tapped on the front door in some special code, and then it slid open. She stepped in.

Amelia gave it a few minutes just to let things simmer, and then repeated the knocking code. The door opened again and, surprisingly, there was not even anyone here to greet her. Fully automated by mana energy alone. She had been ready to fight, but it was not quite time for that.

The building, whatever this was, was extremely dark. Almost impossible to see what was around her.

Amelia activated her Scan Module.

“Night vision, please,” she whispered needlessly to her system.

Night vision, coming right up.

Stand still while your eyes recalibrate.

Her golem eye turned from purple to a certain shade of green, and so did her overall sight. What was once a barely lit building became luminescent surroundings.

And it was only a few moments before she finally realized what this place was. With stacks of crates piled up like walls in a maze, it was almost a warehouse. But it only looked like one at a first glance. The further she walked down this makeshift maze, the clearer became: This was a harvesting plant, and the crates around her were agricultural supplies.

This was exactly the type of place Amelia had been recruited to work in. She would have been a worker stumbling around in the dark, slicing up plants for Fourland’s mana production cycle. This was their official business, their stated operations. And yet, the felid drug dealer scurried right into this building.

Not only was it dark in here from the night, but the windows were covered up to block light even in the daytime. The plants here must grow better in the dark, as strange as that sounded.

Amelia walked past a tightly packed row of dirt and seedlings, not yet in bloom so not yet worth anyone’s attention. Then, another minute’s walk away, she found a whole room filled with flowering plants, ready to be harvested in just a few days.

She realized she had heard of these before: Crystal ferns. They grew in caves, including deep in the Manadhmeth Dungeon. Without light, they created something much more valuable: Mana. They produced flowers when blooming, and those flowers contained most of the mana in the whole plant. Take that, and it was like free energy.

Crystal ferns did not glow themselves, but they did show a brief glint when shone upon by a light—hence their crystal name. Amelia’s right eye passed over one plant, and it twinkled, as if greeting her.

What brutal conditions to harvest such pretty plants, deep in damp darkness. All for one alternative source of energy to power Fleettwixt’s technological marvels. And, Amelia heavily suspected, to help generate synth itself.

She was fairly sure that synth was a byproduct of the mana production process by the symptoms others had told her of. While the countryside of Sunwell did not have synth (yet), countless beings suffered from addiction to state-manufactured drugs, including the most potent of them—mana injections. One injection could give the user heightened senses and increased magical abilities, which was incredibly helpful in the mines or plantations, just for staying on schedule. But it also carried a great risk of harming the mind forever. In just a few uses, the body developed a frightening tolerance for the extra mana, and without a follow-up, the user’s soul literally ate away at itself until the withdrawals passed. Many did not survive events, just the same as how these urban dwellers faced synth’s worst symptoms so quickly.

Two sides of the same coin, and perhaps the same factory. Amelia knew she had to find the source of all this and destroy it, or else so many more would suffer throughout all of Sunwell.

Not all the crystal ferns were used for drugs, but she doubted Fourland did much else with them, honestly. The usual mana production cycle was so streamlined that this alternative method seemed like a waste of time to research.

As she ventured further through this harvesting plant, she considered destroying the whole place, maybe setting up some explosives and letting it all burn down. However, she knew that now was not the right time to perform such a bombastic move. For three weeks, she had been tormenting and murdering low-level employees and thugs. Not enough to get on anyone’s radar, but enough to make an impact. Destroying this place here would get her put on the police map, and that meant mage enforcers pursuing her at every step.

You do remember the last time mage enforcers came after you, right?

In Netherhill, with the miners you freed from the prison camp?

It took three months to shake them.

Let’s not do that again.

Amelia was impressed that her Access Core had such vivid recall of those events when she herself did not. She paid the mage enforcers less mind than she should have, in retrospect, and only directly attacked them when they were close enough to bother with.

If they had discovered she was a golem, and they had been able to report back to the North Sunwell Company... And that was what eventually led to that golemancer who nearly killed her in the woods, all that time ago.

Sometime very soon, she was going to reveal herself to the parties who would send true threats after her. When that came, she would be prepared. But today was a smaller-scale affair. Just some information gathering, and a touch of killing to go along with it.

She found an opening in the stacks of boxes and shelves, where one dim mana lamp shone from a corner, pointing away from all the crystal ferns. A couple chairs, a turned-off radio, and some people pacing. She ducked under a box and peeked her eyes off. Flicked night vision off to get a better view of the scene.

In this dark and gloomy scene, the felid dealer pleaded with her own Fourland manager, along with one police officer in uniform.

“They attacked me,” she shouted. “I don’t know who it was, and I don’t know why they did it. I was just minding my own business, headed for the op, and—Gods, look at my face!”

The manager, an overweight human man, shook his head and sighed loudly. “We told you at the last pickup specifically not to come to our harvesting plants if this person attacks. We already know about them. We don’t know how many there are, or why they’re doing it.”

“But you’ve got to help me! I can’t go to the doctor. But look at me!”

“What the hell are WE supposed to do?” he asked. “Management has no power here. It’s a problem higher up the ladder, and unless these people disrupt the dungeon operations, they won’t act. You and I are expendable, Liss.”

The felid, Liss, moaned in agony and turned to the police officer, a bony elven woman with her hand already on her baton holster. As if this the woman could attack at any second—which was fair to assume, considering her mood.

“Can’t you do something?” she asked the officer.

“We’re supposed to be the ones bringing you dealers in,” she said. “Officially, we can’t do anything.”

“Unofficially?”

She shrugged. “Up to the chiefs of each precinct. Up the payments, and we’ll up the protection.”

The manager continued to shake his head. “We’re trapped in a bureaucratic nightmare. If I don’t meet my quotas, they’re gonna have my head. Can’t meet them if all the dealers die or quit. Liss, you’re not quiting, are you?”

“Hell no,” she hissed. “I want to find who attacked me and slice their throat.”

Amelia couldn’t help but laugh. She’d been holding it in the entire conversation, and now was when the dam had finally burst.

“Hahahaha. Hahahaha!”

She shoved the box aside and leapt into the light, right between the police officer and manager.

With the mask still on her face, Liss recognized her immediately. Her tail shot up into the air, and her claws jutted out of her hands. Wonderful.

I’m activating the Combat Module for you.

You didn’t ask, but I’m being helpful. :)

The manager began pedaling his feet back as fast as they would go, but Amelia gave chase. He barely made it five steps before she grabbed his neck with her stone hand.

“Ack—”

“Say hello to your dealers for me,” Amelia said.

She squeezed.

Liss the felid leapt at her so quickly she hardly had time to dodge. One of her hands went through and its claws scratched the back of her jacket.

She swore, ninety percent of her purchases the past week were for new clothes.

It also managed to scratch her skin and hurt like hell, but Amelia was a big girl, so she could take it, unlike this felid here.

She jumped up onto some shelves and activated [Throwing Hands].

As Liss jumped to follow her, she socked her in the chest so hard she fell down and stopped moving.

Probably not dead, but she would deal with her later. She had more company in the form of guards from all over rushing in. Maybe six of them. They were not competent enough to prevent her from reaching this point, but at least they were numerous enough to serve her a threat.

The police officer drew her baton and struck Amelia in the side. A suicide attack, if Amelia had ever seen one, considering the short range between them. And, of course, the lack of any pain.

Her right hand came back and attached to her arm. Right as the woman realized what was about to happen, Amelia pulled back her arm and uppercutted her at the chin. The officer lifted off the ground a few inches, and as she began to descend, Amelia activated [Mana Burst] and send one concentrated blast into her stomach. The energy blew a hole clean through her torso.

Amelia did not even bother watching the woman hit the ground; she instead turned her attention to the guards, who had her surrounded on almost every side. She took the time to count them: Seven in all.

“Pathetic.”

It nearly disappointed her how pathetic Fourland’s muscle looked. A diverse cast of dwarves and fauns and even a myxo in all its translucent glory. But, come on, she thought. Where was the challenge without a few heavyweight orcs around? When would she face a war-hardened centaur?

She would have been disappointed, but she was having far, far too much fun for that.

With a boisterous laugh, she let the guards rush her into battle and let loose the full extent of her rage-powered abilities. They stood no chance.

“Do you see this, Ed?” she shouted into the air. “I’m coming for you!”