I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

A cart moved through the bustling hoods of Astoria. Gustavo sat hunched in the rickety cart, his body shaking with suppressed coughs.

Every few moments, a harsh wheeze escaped his lips, followed by a sharp hiss as he struggled to regain control. Try as he might to stifle the sound, his efforts proved futile.

Between wheezes and hisses, he caught snippets of conversation from the streets:

"...prices gone up again. Bloodsuckers, the lot of them..."

"Get out of my way, you lout!"

A child's wail pierced the air, quickly followed by a harsh, "Shut your mouth, brat!"

Unable to contain himself any longer, Gustavo rasped to the driver, "Stop. Here." He tossed a few ward of Thalens at the man, who snatched them with a grunt. He stepped out of the cart, almost staggering as he landed on the stone way.

The street swallowed him as he stumbled onto the uneven cobblestones. Bodies jostled past, faces set in scowls or blank stares.

"Fresh fish! Not too rotten!" a vendor shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Liar! I bought from you yesterday. Gave me the runs, it did!" came an angry response.

A woman pushed past Gustavo, muttering, "Useless, all of you. Can't even walk straight."

He kept his head down, weaving through the throng. The air was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies and rotting garbage.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" someone snarled as Gustavo accidentally bumped into them.

"Work harder, pay more. That's all they know," grumbled another passerby.

Finally, Gustavo reached a small, filthy house. Not exactly the best real estate one could find especially for Gustavo who just left the Blackthorn mansion. Its walls were caked with years of grime that seemed to absorb what little light reached this dismal corner. He slipped inside, leaving behind the sounds of discontent that filled the streets.

Gustavo walked through the house's interior with practiced ease, each turn precise and deliberate. He knew this place, as a matter of fact.

As he moved deeper, the walls grew darker, adorned with cryptic symbols that seemed to writhe in the dim light. From the look of things, no one was around as the oppressive silence amplified the sound of his footsteps.

Suddenly, a noise erupted from a small compartment ahead. Gustavo approached the wide-open door, rapping twice slowly, then three times in rapid succession.

The noise within ceased abruptly. Without waiting for a response, he stepped inside.

Towering, muscular men with human skull tattoos covering their bodies turned to face him, their black eyes boring into him.

A pungent, acrid smell permeated the air, emanating from smoldering plants in the room's corners.

As he stepped into the room, a wave of whispers rippled through the gathered men. Their tattooed faces contorted with a mix of surprise, contempt, and curiosity.

"Is that... Gustavo?" one hissed in disbelief.

"The traitor dares show his face here?" another growled under his breath.

"Spineless worm!!" a third spat quietly.

"What's he playing at?" someone muttered.

"Probably crawling back now his fancy new life's turned sour," came a sneering response.

"He couldn't live with his failure, I guess!" Another shot. They all had one shit or another to say about Gustavo.

Undeterred, Gustavo walked purposefully towards the sole seated figure – a smaller man whose eyes seemed to absorb light.

Ignoring the imposing figures around him, Gustavo bowed before the seated man and greeted him: "Xylar the Soulless."

Xylar sat motionless, his diminutive stature belying the aura of menace that radiated from him. His skin was pallid, almost translucent, stretched taut over sharp cheekbones and a hawkish nose. Deep-set eyes, black as obsidian, seemed to devour any light that dared enter them, leaving only an endless void.

A network of thin, dark veins crept across his face like cracks in porcelain, pulsing faintly with an unnatural rhythm. His lips, thin and colorless, curled into a mirthless smile as he regarded Gustavo.

As he reached for his cigar, the sleeve of his jacket rode up slightly, revealing glimpses of arcane tattoos etched into his wrist - symbols that made the eye ache to look upon them directly.

Head still bowed, Gustavo waited. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft rustling of Xylar retrieving a cigar.

With effortless grace, Xylar placed it between his lips. He took a long, measured breath, and the cigar's tip ignited of its own accord.

Xylar inhaled deeply, then exhaled a thick plume of smoke that enveloped Gustavo's bowed form, filling the room with an impenetrable haze.

Gustavo could feel the air around Xylar grow colder, as if his very presence leeched the warmth from his surroundings. When he finally spoke, his voice was a soft rasp, like dry leaves skittering across stone, carrying an undercurrent of ancient, inscrutable power.

Xylar's voice cut through the smoke, dripping with contempt and self-importance.

"Hey, you sniveling worm," he snarled. "What's wrong? Lost your way back to your cushy new life?"

Gustavo remained silent, head bowed.

"You've got some nerve showing your face here after running off to lick the boots of some noble," Xylar continued, his words laced with venom. Clearly, there was no love lost between these two.

He thrust his foot under Gustavo's chin, roughly forcing his face upward.

"Well, well. Even scrubbed those tattoos off your face, didn't you? Trying to fit in with your new high-class friends?" Xylar's laugh was cold and humorless. "What a pity you seem to have forgotten the Fraternity of Northerners."

Xylar spat on the ground next to Gustavo. "Disgrace. Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your miserable life right here."

Finally, Gustavo spoke, his voice low and steady despite his lowered gaze. "I've brought a deal. One that could change everything for you."

"Oh?" Xylar's interest was piqued, though his tone remained scornful. "Change everything for me? My...my...Gustavo the Messiah has finally come to my rescue!... Do I look like I need saving?!!!" Xylar yelled, momentarily sending a wave of cold mist from his very form outwards through the entire room. Chills, they all felt it.

"So this deal, what's in it for me?" Xylar said with a relatively calmed voice almost like he wasn't the one that yelled out through his lungs moment ago. Some of the guys around always knew he was sick in the head but very few had the balls to say it outright to him or cared enough to get him the help he needed.

"The reward," Gustavo replied, "is 20,000 Thalens."

'Well now, this snake might be onto something,' Xylar's eyes glinted with greed, but his voice remained harsh. "Keep talking, turncoat. You'd better hope this deal is worth your life."

Gustavo, head still bowed, began to speak. "The noble I work for has placed a bounty of 20,000 Thalens on his missing wife, Matilda."

Xylar's cigar fell from his mouth right in front of Gustavo. The whole room stiffened in silence. Glances were exchanged but not one person said a word. Gustavo handed him the cigar back while still kneeling, not saying a word.

Just then, xylar burst into a fit of laughter, coughing and choking on his own amusement. For anyone not in the room hearing him laugh, they'd think a camel was being gagged. Xylar's laughter was harsh and mocking.

"Who in their right mind offers such a sum just to find someone?"

Undeterred, Gustavo produced a document, which Xylar snatched and scrutinized.

"Even if this is real," Xylar sneered, "finding her won't be easy in a city like Astoria."

A faint smile played on Gustavo's lips. "That's just it. I don't believe Matilda is in Astoria. My instincts tell me she's fled to some land even bigger than Astoria."

Xylar's expression remained unconvinced. "If you're so sure of where is, why don't you just go get her yourself?" he spat.

"The place is vast," Gustavo explained. "I need more men to cover ground efficiently. I'm willing to accept whatever share you deem fair."

Xylar rose from his seat, towering over Gustavo, his hand running through his bleached hair. "The Gustavo I knew had the strength and cunning to scour any city, no matter how large. What's different now? Has living with nobles made you soft?"

"No," Gustavo insisted, "I...simply saw an opportunity to bring some wealth to the brotherhood."

As he finished speaking, a violent cough erupted from his lips, despite his efforts to suppress it.

Xylar's eyes narrowed, a mixture of suspicion and curiosity glinting in their dark depths. "You're hiding something, Gustavo. Spill it."

Gustavo quickly composed himself, forcing down another cough. "I hide nothing from you," he insisted, his voice steadier than he felt.

Inwardly, he cursed Doctor Mensah's poison, feeling its effects sapping his strength day by day. He knew his deteriorating condition made the solo search impossible, but with the brotherhood's manpower, there was still hope.

Xylar's eyes darted between Gustavo and the bounty notice, greed slowly overtaking suspicion. A sly smile crept across his face.

"This is... tempting," Xylar admitted, his tone softening slightly. "I'll send some men. We'll discuss the split when the money's in hand. No point dividing what we don't have yet."

Gustavo nodded solemnly, relief washing over him.

"I'm assigning 50 men to this task," Xylar continued. "You can collect them when you're ready. Go."

As Gustavo turned to leave, Xylar's voice stopped him. "And Gustavo... don't think for a moment I've forgotten your betrayal. This better not be a trick, or you'll wish I'd killed you today,"

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