My Multisystem In Isekai

Chapter 36 Detect



The outward appearance was like that of a bar or a salon. Heavily built men guarded the entrance. They neither hassled nor accosted anyone, their job was simply to keep the peace. Under Zavier's control, the necrobiome strolled in confidently.

The lightning in the hall was extremely dim. Zavier knew that this was an intentional measure that had been put in place to avoid too much eye contact. Here, any lingering eye contact with the wrong person was sure to spell doom for the weaker party.

Not wanting to seem like a tourist, Zavier noted the mannerisms of the crowd and adopted them immediately. He slouched his shoulders at an awkward angle, turned the end of his lips into a permanent scowl, one hand on his belt, Zavier swaggered into the hall.

As he made his rounds around the tables, he kept his eye contact to a minimum and made sure he himself was fully visible. He had to put himself out there in order to be recognized.

Zavier's logic was simple. It was his thought that Mr. Killer had probably been to a place like this during the time he was alive. So, in this den of thieves and killers, there was a possibility that someone would recognize him here.

Zavier patiently waited for some time with the hope that someone would come forward. But after a full hour, much to Zavier's surprise, no one came forward!

Zavier was torn between the options before him. He could choose to wait and run the risk of looking out of place in this crowd, or he could leave and check out some other hotspots where Mr. Killer could be recognized.

After careful consideration, Zavier chose the second option. Time was not on his side at the moment.

So, Zavier slipped out of the establishment unnoticed. It had been a disappointment. But a part of Zavier was relieved that it hadn't gone as planned.

He knew that things could easily go south for him if someone recognized him and he couldn't play along with Mr. Killer's character.

As he left, he kept looking back to check if he was being followed.

Zavier repeated the same dance over the next couple of hours. He breezed in and out of a couple more black markets hoping that someone would recognize the necrobiome's face.

But again and again, he had been slapped with disappointment, each one more disappointing than the previous one. Zavier didn't know what to make of this.

If anything, this night only produced more questions than answers. It genuinely seemed like Mr. Killer was an unpopular assassin.

In Zavier's opinion, this could only mean two things; either the killer was a high profile assassin who maintained a very suspicious level of anonymity, or, he was a low level punk who had botched the job. Zavier's instincts strongly leaned towards the first option.

As Zavier withdrew the necrobiome from the last place on his list, he resolved to call it a night. Dawn was just an hour or two away and Zavier was very tired.

The mental strain on him was already starting to weaken him. He soon discovered that it took a lot to maintain remote manipulation for a long period of time So, he doubled back and controlled Mr. Killer in the direction of home.

Zavier might have been done for the night, but fate had other plans in store for him.

Halfway back, as Zavier navigated Mr. Killer through a series of alleyways and turns, Zavier began to notice a pattern in the trailing footsteps that were lagging behind him.

Remote manipulation was an extraordinary feature, unlike most video games that made use of manipulation, sight wasn't the only sense that linked Zavier to the necrobiome.

Zavier wasn't limited to just what his puppet saw, he had full access to Mr. Killer's five senses, even the controversial sixth sense. So, when Zavier discerned his was being followed, his fatigue immediately wore off.

Brimming with a fresh surge of adrenaline, Zavier ducked behind a large tree with the hope of ambushing the stranger. With bated breath, ready to attack, Zavier stood still as a statue as he waited for the opportunity to attack.

But much to Zavier's surprise, the mysterious stranger made no move to mask his presence. He willingly trotted towards Zavier's position without a shred of wicked intention.

As he came closer, Zavier took in his outward appearance.

The stranger was dressed in a large overcoat and an even larger hat. But that wasn't the most sinister thing about his appearance.

As Zavier tried to take a closer look at the face of the stranger, he discovered that he was wearing a mask that completely kept his facial features hidden.

When the stranger finally spoke, his voice sounded like the rustling of old pipes. His tone reflected his urgency. In essence, it was a tone that told Zavier that he was not in a mood to be fucked with.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

He rasped.

Zavier instantly deduced that this was no coincidence. It was clear this masked stranger knew Mr. Killer. Immediately, Zavier's mind began to work on drafting the perfect reply. He had to be careful. There was no other option.

So, with calculated precision, Zavier replied him carefully;

"Well, the mission was a failure…"

Zavier didn't need a Prophet to tell him that he had just screwed up. The stranger's apprehension floated across and charged the air. Zavier didn't know if it was what he said or how he had said it, but he knew that the gimmick was up.

The stranger screamed in despair;

"You bloody imposter! You're not Pacer!

He inched closer in a menacing manner and asked in annoyance;

"You had better speak before I gut you like a bloody fish!"

The mysterious masked man didn't wait for an answer. It seemed like he had already made up his mind to kill Zavier. The assailant rushed towards him with a balled fist.

Zavier ducked, narrowly missing the attack by just a few inches. He had felt the breeze from the masked man's punch.

Zavier knew that the necrobiome would have sustained a significant degree of damage if the attack had hit home.

It was obviously kill or be killed. So Zavier instinctively tries to activate Cold Blaze. But alas, he forgot that necrobiomes don't work like clones.

So, even though Mr. Killer was fully under Zavier's control, it turned out that the necrobiome's body didn't have any of Zavier's original powers. Unfortunately for both Zavier and his necrobiome, he discovered this too late.

The heavy handed punch of the masked man came again. This time, he did not miss. The impact of the attack was so forceful that the necrobiome's body was lifted up from the ground and slammed into a nearby tree.

As Zavier struggled to get the necrobiome to get up, he realized that he was currently no match for this mysterious masked man. He had to escape. Quickly.

He summoned all his mental strength and willed the necrobiome to get up. As soon as it was on its feet, he sprinted and ran with every ounce of energy in him.

He didn't dare turn back to confirm his fears, but the heavy breathing of the assailant right behind him told Zavier that the mysterious man was behind him in hot pursuit. Mr. Killer's feet wobbled beneath him and Zavier cursed.

It was just a necrobiome after all. Soon enough, the assailant gained on him and struck him down. As Zavier struggled on all fours on the ground, the stranger rammed his heavy boots into his ribcage.

Hovering over his captive like a stalling predator, the stranger in the large hat began to interrogate him;

"I am only going to ask you this question once again… WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

The masked stranger obviously didn't care about the fact that it was pretty late. His raspy voice shattered the stillness of the late night.

Zavier decided to play it safe. He sputtered as he tried to rise up from the ground;

"What are you talking about? You know me!"

Zavier recalled the name he had addressed him earlier on and cleverly put it to use in concocting his lie;

"It's me damn it! It's Pacer!"

The other man was far from convinced. When no truthful answer came forth, he grunted twice like a pig, then, he violently grabbed the necrobiome's head and rammed it into a nearby tree trunk. Zavier felt every shred of the pain.

Not only that, he discovered that couldn't operate the body anymore. The masked man had done a number on Mr. Killer's body.

At this point, the necrobiome was just a sack of broken bones courtesy of the man in the hat. Though the body was broken, Zavier could still perceive the outside world through the necrobiome's five senses.

When the mysterious man inched closer to investigate the anomaly, he cried out in shock when he discovered that he had been engaging a corpse all this while. He spat in disgust when he saw that

Pacer had actually been dead for a pretty long time. His annoyance tripled when he realized that this had been the work of a necromancer. He shook his head in disappointment and voiced his thoughts aloud;

"So Pacer was killed by the likes of an ordinary necromancer? This is very disappointing."

He then addressed the corpse;

"Listen up you damn necromancer, I know you're in there listening and watching me…"

As a matter of fact, Zavier was actually paying rapt attention.

"If you don't to become one of the corpses that you love so much, I suggest you leave this matter alone. Do not interfere!"

He then proceed with an enchantment. He spread both of his hands over the still lifeless body of the necrobiome and mumbled inaudible words that Zavier couldn't follow. The spell forcefully expelled Zavier's consciousness and restored him back to his own body.

As his consciousness filled his body once again, Zavier opened his eyes with a jolt. The cock crowing in the distance told him that dawn was near.

After sitting in a meditative stance for almost eight hours, he struggled with the pain as he uncrossed his legs to get up. But the pain was nothing. Zavier's mind was reeling with different theories.

"So I was right!"

He thought…

"The real person behind the assassination attempt on me is shrouded in mystery."

He sighed inwardly.

"There is still so much that is yet to be revealed. In any case, it's now clear that this case is not so simple."

The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how much it was out of his control. He felt like he needed to tell his family, but he wasn't convinced just how much he could tell them.

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