Beau’s feet slid slowly along the floor as he pondered, the gadget in his hand had been consuming his thoughts for the better part of a month, and with all the distractions he had barely had time to work on it.

As he continued to rack his brain his belly made a low groaning noise. After thoroughly ignoring it he took a sharp breath in and pushed himself away from his table before he went mad. He took a few wild steps around the room before stopping next to the door.

After a moment's hesitation, he walked right out.

“Marianne, I’m popping out.”

“Alright, don’t be long, the shop’s closing soon.”

He had not kept track of the time for the past few days so Marianne’s reminder was completely necessary. He snapped his fingers as he decided what he would do to take his mind off things for a while.

Walking down Bath’s main street was always a pleasure. Whether it be the decorated shop windows or the flamboyant street performers, everything was pleasing to the eye, albeit slightly over the top.

Beau, however, had a particular destination in mind, although, he did not rush because of it. He took care to smile or nod at anyone who greeted him or stop to admire some shop windows.

After spending an adequate amount of time mindlessly roaming, he arrived outside the target destination.

The thing that Beau loses track of most often was time. Aside from the clock hanging up in the main room of his shop, he had no way of telling the time. This was especially true when he was out and about, after all, Big Ben was in London.

His distraction today was actually useful and would benefit him in the future. It felt good to be doing something useful when it was actually just procrastination.

He opened the shop’s door and heard chimes ring, alerting the current dwellers of his entrance.

After looking around at some of the pocket watches he picked one out. It was plain looking at first glance. It had a silver casing, a white face with black roman numerals and hands. The silver chain was also remarkably normal looking. It was safe to say there was nothing special about this pocket watch.

He signaled for the man at the counter who grunted in response. He then picked himself up to unlock the cabinet the pocket watch was currently residing in.

Clockwork had always been something Beau was interested in. Just, it was incredibly fiddly, even more so than the things Beau was currently doing. Not only that but it was something that took a long time to master, time that Beau currently did not have.

Which was why, for now, he would buy his pocket watch.

After confirming the purchase he exited the shop. He then tucked the watch into his waistcoat watch pocket and fastened the chain around the button. After admiring his new purchase outside the shop for a brief second, he headed home.

As he walked in Marianne was putting on her jacket ready to leave.

“Goodbye Beau, see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow Marianne, get home safely.”

He immediately hung his fedora and jacket, heading to his office. After taking half an hour’s break he felt refreshed and set about working again, fresh new ideas coming streaming in by the second.

He almost panicked but snatched his notebook from his desk draw and jotted some ideas down before he forgot them.

Although it felt like forever, eventually Wednesday came around. Beau had been up and ready for a while. He had packed his mask and black clothes into a bag with his money and a few necessary belongings.

He had on his usual blue suit with a silky blue waistcoat and his new pocket watch. He never usually wore a tie so used his fedora to top off the outfit.

He had sewn the gun holders on the inside of all his jackets so he currently had the black one on him and the white one was kept in the bag, just in case.

After making doubly sure he had everything with him, he headed for the Watson’s house where the carriage would be waiting.

“Good day Beau!”

A beautiful woman came into his vision.

“Hello, Watson.”

They packed the carriage’s trunk then proceeded to climb into the main room. They were traveling alone as the other police officers had gone down to Bournemouth earlier to alert the local police officers of the incoming mayhem.

The hired driver whipped the reins and the carriage jerked forward, marking the start of their journey.

The journey from Bath to Bournemouth took around 16 hours. You could not comfortably spend that long in a carriage in one day which was why they would stop halfway for the night, then complete the journey the next morning.

The carriage ride started off unremarkably. Just relaxing conversation and a few games. It was a vis a vis style carriage meaning the two were facing each other, making it easy to play such games. After they grew tired of that, they each brought out books and continued the journey silently.

After 8 hours, which passed by neither slowly nor quickly, the two exited the vehicle. They had stopped every hour to stretch their legs so they were in no particular pain, just eager to eat. Beau’s stomach was the first to complain. After Watson shamelessly laughed at Beau, hers followed suit.

The bed and breakfast they had found was small but adequate. It was a small village so the smart looking couple entering the establishment earned themselves some unwanted attention. The night passed with no hitch and their journey resumed.

It was just past midday when they arrived in Bournemouth. Beau waved goodbye to Watson saying he could make his own way back to Bath.

Beau quickly found another bed and breakfast to stay the night, making sure it was well away from both the docks and anywhere Watson was likely to go.

The night came quickly, Watson’s small squad had been gathered. Each of them were magicians, they also had a rifle squad just in case.

Her main objective was, of course, the capture and detention of the criminals specified in the letter. However, if she happened to capture a certain white masked vigilante as well, it could do nothing bad.

------------------------------------------

Dark settled in, thoroughly setting the mood for whatever awaited them on that boat.

They could hear the faint sloshing of the swell gently pounding the docks. The chains and anchors of currently moored ships would occasionally grate against the side of something, frightening a few of the more green police officers.

Every now and then there was a shout that belonged to the fishermen coming home from their evening of fishing. Mostly, though, it was quiet.

Beau’s feet dangled off the side of one of the dock’s warehouse buildings. He had located Watson’s team and was currently waiting in a blind spot where he could still see the entire dock. After waiting for 2 hours, the ship that was mentioned in the letter finally entered into their vision. The lighthouse that was located just down the coastline highlighted it spectacularly for the patiently waiting parties.

Beau was in no hurry but Watson made a few last minute changes to her formation to make sure they got the boat properly surrounded.

After a painful 15 minutes of waiting and shouting, the boat finally anchored and moored. The bridge was erected to allow the crew members safe passage to land. Cargo boxes were being unloaded quickly at first, but slowed down after a while, the crew members looking very tired.

Beau was the first to make a move, dancing through the shadows, he approached the back of the boat. Swung a small grappling hook that latched on to the boat’s railing. After making sure it was tight, he pulled himself up.

The crew members had arrived home for a month-long journey, the last thing on their mind was being on guard for intruders.

Beau took a quick look at the remaining cargo and estimated he had around 3 hours to do as he pleases, provided he doesn’t get caught.

His first mission was simple. He headed straight for the Captain’s room.

There were a couple of crew members standing guard. If you could call it that. They were practically sleeping on the chairs outside the door.

Beau walked over and quietly slit their throats, disabling their voice box in the process ensuring a silent kill. After dragging the two bodies to the side, as quietly as possible, he tried the door handle to the captain’s quarters.

It opened magnificently. Rewarding Beau with a room brightened by candlelight. He could hear talking inside the cabin.

He tried his best to listen but got impatient as the conversation was about nothing of importance. He equipped the black gun and placed his back against the wall. After double checking his surroundings, he spun around the wall, revealing himself to the room’s occupants.

The Captain tried to shout but only managed a muffled cry before a hole appeared in his forehead allowing Beau to see straight through the other side. That was before the body collapsed into the chair, looking like he had fallen asleep.

Then someone did shout, Beau quickly cast a barrier disallowing passage of any sound. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the other man, then widened as he looked into the room at the back and saw a girl cowering behind the door frame.

The girl was clearly one of the recently captured people they were trying to sell as slaves. Beau had seen this countless times during his 4 years of Creed head hunting, but it never failed in making him very, very angry.

He eyes instantly snapped back to the, now cowering man.

He looked at the man, noticing the MCR uniform Beau snapped. This man would not die quickly. He first walked over to the room the girl was in and closed the door so that she was blind to the atrocities Beau was about to commit. He walked back over to the MCR employee and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. He had already done a check to see if he was a magician. The man had no mana in his body, it was not a requirement for the MCR after all.

Beau shoved the man to one of the wooden beams that supported the room and, using summoned spikes, pinned him to the wall. Piercing through his arms and legs to keep him around 30cm off the ground.

Even with his sudden growth spurt, the man was still only just the height of Beau.

Beau stared at the man who was crying with snot dribbling down his nose but was unable to do anything about it. What proceeded left the man flayed and bloody. Trails of organs leaving the man’s body finding their new home on the cold wooden floor. His eyes had rolled backward showing on the whites. Beau’s entire body was covered in blood. Even his face was not spared. The mask now had a rather gruesome paint job. His hands were slick with blood, he flicked them a few times to get the remaining clumps of muscle or stray organ off him. He had wanted to save the girl behind the door personally but would have to leave it to Watson as if she saw him in his current state, she definitely would not be leaving here with an intact mind.

He had obtained all the information he needed and had even found out something brand new, something his 4 years of cleansing refused to reveal to him. The existence of an archive. Without getting confirmation of what exactly the archive was for, he had only interrogated the man for the location, the man died too quickly to get any more answers. Beau reprimanded himself and decided it would be worthwhile to learn some professional interrogating techniques. He had just been doing whatever comes to mind, so far.

After leaving the boat, he watched the scene of the MCR officers waiting for the ideal time and collapsing on the crew members. He then watched as they stormed the ship, seizing the cargo and finding out about the people that had been captured to sell into slavery. Beau had no idea what was going to happen to those people now and for the most part, he did not care. All he knew was that they were going to have a better life than they would have if the Watson had never shown up and that was good enough for him.

He trudged home, being careful to clean the bloody footprints on the way. He positively reeked of the dark red liquid and threw his clothes into the sea before entering any sort of establishment. Luckily they were old clothes.

His mind was set on a few things. He now had to leave the situation of the corruption of the MCR to Watson.

There were some high up corrupted officers, however, not at the peak. If the information was revealed to the top brass, there would be nothing they could do. Watson knew this and planned to travel to London to sort it all out.

Beau needed a plan from now. The situation involving the Queen was serious. He could get the MCR involved but was hesitant.

He had two choices. Get the MCR involved and save the Queen, in this scenario he would definitely save the Queen, but, many Creed members would escape. The MCR did not have the right to just murder people based on the tattoo of a one winged angel. Although Beau did not have the right either, he still did it. This was the difference.

His second choice was to go about it himself, in this way, he could completely cleanse the world of the Creed but might have to sacrifice the Queen in doing so.

His mind wavered for a while but eventually settled. This chance was not going to come again. He would exterminate the Creed.

---------------------------------------------

Watson’s breath formed misty clouds in front of her face as she waited for all her men to get into position.

After receiving a signal that indicated everything was ready she initiated her plan. The officers collapsed onto the crew members who were quietly, but hurriedly removing the crates of cargo from the ship. There were a few people there to greet them as they pulled into the docks.

The corrupt MCR official was the boss and had gone straight to the captain’s quarters. The rest helped the crew members with the cargo, leaving two people standing watch. These people were hastily dealt with by Watson, using the tried and true method of incapacitation. Electrocution, then tied up to restrict further movement. There was also a method of temporarily sealing mana that the MCR had created to deal with rogue magicians.

The rest of the crew was held up immediately, some of them tried to fight back but were no match for trained officers.

Watson creased her smooth eyebrows. She had expected more of a fight. She found the reason behind their passiveness in the captain’s quarters. Where two bodies were waiting for her, one of them caused her to vomit her entire stomach contents all over the floor.

She hurriedly exited the room and ordered for the whole ship to be searched.

Only after 20 minutes of trying to wipe the image from her memory was she able to consciously relay orders for the waiting officers regarding the captured people that were chained up in the hold, along with the vast amount of raw materials that were currently residing in the crates.

After the raid she headed home, sighing. The papers were waiting in her room to be delivered to London, she had a long road ahead of her and was still not entirely sure what would come about from all of it. One thing she was sure of was that the White Demon was gross. What kind of sick mind could skin and gut someone like a rabbit. She could only shiver and hope that she would never know.

An empty room greeted her as she opened the dark door. Unable to find solace, her mind continued to run marathons well into the night. When sleep finally claimed her it was only a short time till the sun rose. However, she did not mind. As all that awaited her in her sleep was nightmares.