Three dead, one writhing on the ground in shock and pain, and the leader who remained. All things considered it had been far cleaner than Noctis earlier escapade that night, despite what the bloody scene may suggest.
"Listen, if you think we haven't gotten word about some guy coming around, torturing and killing, you're nuts. You're not gonna get a damn thing from us." the loudmouth said, hocking his spit directly at Noctis face, who used his power to have it simply pass through him harmlessly, his eyes never breaking contact with the man in his grasp.
"Now now, that may be true. Especially considering the... condition of your friends. But that doesn't mean I'm going to leave here empty handed..." Noctis replied, tightening his grip until he felt the man's wrist crack and crumple in his hand, the screams and pain running over him as if they were never there.
"You mentioned Lletz. He's with the League, no? I want to know how to get in touch." Noctis continued, his eyes very deliberately wandering over to his weapon Kuroi which stood ready in his free hand.
"What, are you deaf or somethin'...-?" the man choked out between moments of pain, his adrenaline clearly doing wonders to suppress the brunt of the injury now. Still, Noctis was tired, he was unamused, and most importantly he felt that the man he held's will was strong enough that it would be a genuine waste of time to try and torture him. Having seen how he behaved in the midst of the attack, and how he stood firm now in the face of death, Noctis had little doubt.
"...I see." he sighed, delivering a quick and painless slice across the neck, ending the man's suffering prematurely.
Still, Noctis tossed the body aside and quickly looked at the case left behind by the group. It was a simple lock, something Noctis could break with minimal effort as he cracked it apart with the blunt top of his weapon. As he pulled the container open, what Noctis found within wasn't money or treasure, but rather a rusty weapon, ancient and antique and far beyond it's days of usefulness. Still it's design was still ornate and intricate much like the weapons used by the men of the league and to a lesser extent, the men here. It was a blade much like a dagger, but still had the hammer and firing mechanism of a flintlock. For it's time, it must have been a technological marvel, even now it was rare if not downright strange to find a weapon of that status or type.
Despite this, Noctis was no weapon expert or blacksmith. For that, he'd have to defer to Devroux's expertise. Perhaps he could gleam some more useful information from the weapon regarding the League or the still mysterious 'High Count'. Or perhaps he could even use it as a template to make similar weapons. Regardless, there was much to discuss at a later date. For now, Noctis was exhausted from pulling an all-nighter, and thought it would be wise to leave the scene while he was still anonymous. Walking over to the man left handless, Noctis inspected the body, finding him unconscious from blood loss. With one quick thrust to the head, his pain was cut short. Gingerly placing the antique weapon in his pocket handle first, Noctis sheathed Kuroi on his back and disappeared into the air, leaving the bloody scene to be found by the owner when he returned to open for the day.
Words: 1006
Doriki: +5 to Strength/Power when using legs, +10 to Speed, +5 to Endurance
Skills: Geist
Gear: Baby Den Den Mushi, Kuroi, Ignition Stone, Duracloth Wrap, Duracloth Cape, Vision Dial, Extinguishing Cloth, Pressure Vessel
Notes: Exit