Ajax wasn’t at the Bitter Flagon when I got there, but Scott sat at the bar. It took only a few minutes to fill the plague doctor in on my encounter with the receptionist.

“I cut right into its skull, and the damn thing didn’t even slow down. The only thing I know works for sure, is the killer’s decoction.”

“And you were hoping I could make some,” Scott said, seeing where the conversation was headed.

“I definitely wouldn’t mind having some on hand. How hard would it be to put together?”

“Tough to say,” he responded. “I will have to experiment with multiple numbing agents and acids, since we don’t know exactly what the killer used, only educated guesses. Luckily I have a few skills that should nudge me in the right direction and tell me if I am on the right track. Give me a few hours and I’ll see what I can do.”

I thanked Scott and gave him a couple shillings to cover the cost of the ingredients. I left the plague doctor filling out an order form, apparently he had a runner to buy supplies for him, and found Sarah entering the pub.

“I have good news for you boys,” she said, playfully waving around a bundle of decrepit papers. It seemed that she had recovered from her death in the Old City. Her mood was infectious and I found myself smiling as well.

“Is that Slinger’s journal?” I asked, recognizing the makeshift book. “Did you finish translating it?”

“Not all of it,” she said. “But enough to pull out some interesting tidbits. Should give you boys something to chew on.”

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense,” I prompted.

“Not until Ajax gets here, I don’t want to explain the whole thing twice.”

“He shouldn’t be long, come on, I’ll buy you lunch to celebrate your breakthrough.”

Lunch with Sarah was pleasant, but I couldn’t focus. My head swirled with thoughts of the killer, the monsters, and what to do next.

Finally Ajax arrived, carrying his own set of papers. “I got something,” he declared triumphantly.

“That makes three of us,” I said.

“Wait your turn Inspector, I was here first,” Sarah said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Ajax looked confused for a second, then his eyes widened as he caught sight of Slinger’s journal.

“Ok, first things first.” Sarah took on her schoolteacher voice. “I am liking the Milladen theory more and more. The journal is written in modified Nsibidi, an ancient central African script. I haven’t found anything to suggest that the African Milladens could write, but they were definitely around the same time this script was being used.”

“Next, I figured out what Slinger was doing in the Old City.” Sarah paused with a grimace. “He was experimenting on zombies, looking for something he called a ‘viable host.’ He doesn’t come out and say it, but I am pretty sure he was looking for a way to infect zombies.”

“So they could reproduce without running the risk of kidnaping real people,” I theorized.

Sarah nodded. “One last thing. He mentioned an enemy multiple times in the notes. Slinger calls him the ‘packless dog’ or sometimes the ‘painted wolf.’ I am pretty sure he is talking about the Decoction Killer. He talks about finding one of the dog’s dens and setting a trap for the killer. It doesn’t say where the den is, but implies that it is in the Old City.”

“So the Decoction Killer probably has a safehouse in the Old City,” Ajax said.

“If the Milladen found it, I doubt he is using it anymore,” I said. If we had figured it out earlier we might have been more useful.

“Not necessarily,” Ajax countered. “If I was him, I would have multiple safehouses and not stay at any one for too long. He might not have realized that the Old City location is compromised.

“Speaking of safehouses.” Ajax slid forward a sheet of paper. “I got the order history from that alchemical supplier. Right here,” he pointed at a line, “Is an order for poison by one Mr. Smith at 42 Cloth Fair.”

“Ok, but there are dozens of people that have ordered that same poison,” I said, not seeing where Ajax was going with this.

“Ah, but this came for us today.” Ajax slid a second paper over. “Our greedy informant tipped us off to the purchase of an elemental burner for a Mr. Jones.”

“At 41 Cloth Fair.” I finished, reading the note.

“And that’s the thing,” Ajax said, excited. “41-42 Cloth Fair is a cutlery factory with a few rooms on the upper floor. No reason to order alchemical goods.”

“Unless they have a murderous upstairs tenant,” I said. “Nice work Inspector.”

“So let’s go get him. That elemental burner is getting delivered today, this is our chance to catch him.”

“Not so fast, there is one more thing I need to fill you two in on.” I quickly explained my encounter with the Milladen receptionist and the staircase that went deep underground. “The track is more than just a meeting point, it has to be their home base.”

“That’s good to know, but I still think we should head to Cloth Fair,” Ajax said.

“But what about the Milladen? Shouldn’t we tell the police, the church? London is infested with parasitic monsters!”

“If this was a normal game? Sure. I would follow all the interesting leads and hunt down every sidequest. But this isn’t a normal game. My only goal is to get the killer, get out of this game, and see my daughter again. The rest of this virtual London can rot for all I care.”

Ajax finished his rant then looked embarrassed. “Of course I want to help with your quest too, Sarah…”

“Don’t worry about me, love,” she said. “You gotta do right by your little girl. I’ll figure out what caused the Night of Jagged Teeth eventually.”

I felt guilty. After we took down the Decoction Killer, I’ll be gone too. How would Sarah collect more information from the Old City without either of us? Only Ajax and my main quest would end with the Decoction Killer. The rest of the testers would have to work through their own main quests.

“So, Cloth Fair then?” I asked, filling in the awkward silence.

It took Ajax and I—Sarah decided to stay behind—over an hour to find the narrow street. It was too minor to be marked on our maps and the regular message boys didn’t know the address. We finally got directions from a Royal Mail courier only to find that it was only a mile or so from where we had started at the Bitter Flagon.

41-42 Cloth Fair was a solidly built brick building with large jutting windows. The thick wooden doors looked like they could stand up to a battering ram.

“So what’s the plan? Knock?” I asked, only half joking.

“We’d only alert him, give him time to escape. Let’s bypass the ground floor altogether. Think you could climb up to those windows?”

“Easy, come on.” I stepped into the alleyway. There wasn’t much foot traffic on Cloth Fair, but I figured it didn’t hurt to be a bit more discreet. I handed Ajax the end of a coil of rope, then scurried up the water drain.

The jutting windows ended at the third floor, and I carefully pulled myself onto the thin roof. The fourth floor windows were flush with the building directly above my precarious perch. I peeked my head in, and was relieved to find the room inside empty.

I signaled for Ajax and braced myself for his climb. I was a little worried the half-roof wouldn’t hold our combined weight, but it was well built and didn’t even shift under the strain.

Ajax made it up the rope, puffing like a chimney, and gave me a nod. I pointed at the window, but kept silent. No telling how close the killer was, no need to risk talking.

Ajax dug into his pack and pulled out a tin of thick cream. He spread this carefully over the window, making sure to cover the whole window. He waited as the cream hardened and gave me another nod when it reached a tacky consistency.

When I stared at him blankly, he mimed smashing the glass. Trusting the Inspector, I used my buckler and carefully smashed the edge of the window. The cream stretched like resin, sticking to the glass and keeping the broken shards in one fragmented sheet. The glass still made noise as it broke, but the cracking was muted.

As I finished chipping out the edges, Ajax, wearing gloves, grabbed the sheet of broken glass and lowered it to the floor of the room. We slipped through the broken window and moved over to the interior door. Ajax readied his revolver, and I got the door.

It opened without a sound, clearly well oiled despite the room’s disuse. Ajax swept left as I went right, but the hallway beyond was empty. We continued our sweep with the room directly across from us.

I burst into the room, Ajax just behind me. Inside, a man in black clothes hunched over a lit elemental burner. He spun to face us.

“It’s him!” I shouted, recognizing the face.

That was good enough for Ajax. He fired two rounds into the man’s chest with rapid, precise shots. The killer instinctively threw his hands up to protect his face, so the third round, that would have taken him in the head, hit his forearm instead.

“Luchai,” the man shouted in surprise.

Light and sound engulfed me. It was like a flashbang, but every color at once. I staggered, raising my shamshir to ward off attacks. I backed into Ajax, who grabbed my shoulder. To steady me, or himself, I wasn’t sure.

My vision cleared quickly. The killer still stood there, but had gotten a rapier from somewhere, and was encased in a transparent green aura. There were two small holes over his heart, revealing some sort of armor underneath. His arm, the one without a sword, bled freely from Ajax’s third shot.

The man’s lips moved, but all I could hear was ringing. I felt pressure and pain from my left ear as Ajax fired over my shoulder. The bullet skittered off the green aura and embedded in the far wall. The next two shots were also deflected, but a crack formed in the green shield.

The killer charged, and I rushed to meet him. The rapier was viper quick, with a longer reach, and I was hard pressed to defend myself. I needed an opportunity to close. I used my push spell to send the elemental burner spinning at the man. It crashed harmlessly against the green aura, sending the device clattering off into a corner, but it gave me an opening to strike.

I shoved his blade away with my buckler, and stepped in, slamming the shamshir against the magical shielding. Cracks spiderwebbed up the green aura, but it didn’t break.

The killer fell back. I tried to keep in close, but a quick lunge opened a gash in my scalp. I was forced to retreat as blood ran down my face.

Another gunshot, devastating to my slowly recovering hearing, came from the doorway. Again the bullet was deflected, but the cracks widened and seemed on the verge of shattering.

The killer lunged, trying to skewer me so he could move on to Ajax.

I deflected the thrust up with my shield then followed my implanted instincts. Whipping my shamshir back I trapped the rapier between sword and shield. The combined force and angle snapped the last third of the thin blade off.

I carried the momentum through into a cut, driving deep into the green shield. My blade stopped only inches from the killer’s neck, held back by the last shreds of the magical shield.

He snapped a kick into my chest, throwing me back. He examined his truncated blade for only a moment before chucking it at me.

I deflected the projectile easily, it made for a poor throwing weapon, but was distracted from the killer’s true goal. In the brief time I was preoccupied, he had rushed over to the room’s closet.

Ajax fired again and the last of the green shield disintegrated under the strain. I prepared for the killer to pull out a new weapon from the closet, but instead he fell through the floor.

It took my frazzled brain a moment to understand what had happened. I rushed the closet and found a fireman’s pole going straight down into the building.

“Shit.” I sheathed my weapons and threw myself at the pole. The friction burned my hands, but I couldn’t afford the time it would take to climb down carefully.

The pole ended in a ground floor closet. The killer was already at the building’s front door. I rushed after him, spilling onto Cloth Fair. I took a second to wipe the blood from my eyes and saw the killer fleeing south.

I wasn’t drugged this time. I ran after him, accelerating into a true sprint.

I didn’t see the message boy until it was too late. I slammed into him at full speed as he stepped around a corner, sending us both crashing to the stone street.

“Message for you sir,” he said, apparently unphased by the crash.

“Really not the time,” I grumbled. I snatched the slip of paper from the boy’s hand and scanned it quickly as I stood.

Flagon under attack.

-Jim

“He’s getting away!” Ajax yelled as he caught up.

“The Bitter Flagon is under attack. Jim, Sarah, they need our help,” I said, looking at the retreating form of the Deconction Killer.

“Catch him first! We’re so close,” Ajax said, gasping for breath. He didn’t have the dexterity or constitution for this kind of chase.

I hesitated for a moment, then ran after the killer. Hopefully Jim could hold the attackers off for a few minutes.

I pounded down the street, pushing to make up for the lost time. I was faster than the Decoction killer, but not by much. On the straightaways, I would catch up, but lost time whenever the man changed direction unexpectedly.

We steadily weaved southward both sprinting flat out. Pedestrians dove out of the way with cries of fear or outrage. After a few minutes the killer’s pace began to flag and my investment in constitution paid off. I was fairly winded myself, but had enough energy to slowly close the gap.

I caught him just as we reached the river, cutting across his back. The slash opened the black clothing, but failed to penetrate the armor underneath. Before I could follow up the attack he dove over the railing.

I directed my remote push under the killer, to pull him back into reach, but the force wasn’t strong enough to halt his descent. All I managed to do was change his perfect dive into a painful belly flop. I dropped my shamshir and started struggling with my chainmail. He wasn’t getting away that easily.

Before I could jump the railing, the killer broke the surface in some sort of small craft. It looked like a canoe made of folded paper with the prow raised like a cigarette boat. He shot across the river, moving far faster than should have been possible.

There was no way I could catch him by swimming. Even if I could get to a bridge, he would be lost in the Old City long before I got there. He was going to get away. Again.