Plundering Worlds: I Have a Shotgun in a Fantasy World-Chapter 52: The Alley at Night

[Lowmarket District]

The streets narrowed as the squad rode deeper into Lowmarket. The buildings pressed closer together, their timber frames leaning at odd angles, snow clung to the beams and window ledges and packed thick along the eaves. The cobblestones had vanished beneath a layer of trampled snow and frozen slush, the street hardened into uneven ruts by days of passing boots and wheels.

The smell hit them first—sewage, rotting vegetables, unwashed bodies. It hung thick in the air, clinging to everything.

Kael dismounted near a small square where a well stood at the center. The others followed, tying their horses to a weathered post.

A man waited near the well. Middle-aged, well-dressed for this district—his coat was wool, recently cleaned, his boots leather and well-maintained. But his face was haggard, his eyes shadowed.

He straightened when he saw Kael. "Captain?"

Kael nodded. "You’re the merchant?"

When the man stepped close enough to speak, Kael caught a faint trace of iron beneath the wool and cold air. Thin.

"Tomas Greave. My son—" His voice cracked slightly. "My son went missing three nights ago."

Kael gestured for him to continue.

Tomas pulled a folded paper from his coat and handed it over. "I’ve been asking around. Hired some locals to dig. All the disappearances happened in the same area." Kael unfolded it—a crude map of Lowmarket, several locations marked in ink. "Tanner’s Alley," Tomas said, pointing to the largest cluster of marks. "And the streets around it. Five people in two weeks. All at night. All alone."

Kael studied the map. "Any witnesses?"

"A few. Most are too scared to talk. But I found one—a woman who lives above the alley. She saw something three nights ago."

"Where is she?"

Tomas pointed across the square. "Third building. Second floor. She’s expecting you."

Kael handed the map to Kogan and turned back. "Stay here. We’ll find your son."

Tomas’s jaw tightened. "Just... find him. Please."

[Second Floor - Witness Interview]

The woman was thin, her face lined with years of hard living. She sat at a small table near the window, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long gone cold.

Kael stood near the door with Kogan and Bren flanking him. The others waited outside.

"Tell me what you saw," Kael said.

Her eyes flicked to him, then away. "I sleep poorly. Have for years. So I sit here at night and watch the street." She nodded toward the window. "Three nights ago, just after midnight, I saw someone walking down the alley. Young man. Merchant’s clothes. He looked confused, like he was searching for something."

"Alone?"

"Yes. Then..." She hesitated. "Two others came out of the shadows. From the far end of the alley. Tall. Thin. Their legs were crooked—bowed outward at the knees. Every step looked strained, unnatural." Her fingers tightened around the cup. "They followed him. Quiet. He walked on, oblivious. Then one of them reached out and—" She stopped. Swallowed. "He grabbed the boy. Pulled him into the dark. The other one helped. They dragged him deeper into the alley."

"Did you see where they went?"

"There’s an old tannery at the end. Abandoned for years. They went inside."

Kael exchanged a glance with Kogan. "Anything else?"

The woman shook her head. "I stayed at the window until dawn. They stayed inside."

"Thank you." He turned toward the door.

Behind him, the woman spoke quietly. "Be careful. Those things... there was something wrong with them."

[Tanner’s Alley - Midday]

The alley was narrow and dark, even in daylight. The buildings on either side blocked most of the sun, leaving only a thin strip of pale light down the center. The walls were slick with moisture, the stones stained black with old grime.

Kael walked slowly down the alley, his gaze sweeping left and right. The others followed in silence.

At the far end, the alley opened into a small courtyard. A building loomed ahead—three stories of rotting timber and crumbling stone, snow gathered along the eaves and piled against the walls, windows boarded, door hanging open on rusted hinges.

The old tannery.

Kael stopped at the entrance and crouched. The snow before the doorway had been churned and darkened, trampled into hard slush, and through it ran a set of drag marks cutting a rough path straight inside. He pressed his fingers into the frozen crust.

Still fresh.

Kogan crouched beside him. "Recent."

Kael nodded and stepped closer to the doorway, peering inside. Darkness. A faint smell—rot, and something worse.

He turned back to the others. "Sweep the interior. Look for signs of habitation. Bodies. Anything."

They moved inside carefully, weapons drawn. The interior was a wreck—broken vats, collapsed beams, the floor littered with debris.

But there—

Kael stopped. A pile of bones in the corner. Small. Gnawed clean.

He walked over and knelt down. Human teeth marks. On human bones.

Kogan appeared beside him, staring at the pile. "Cannibals."

Kael stood. "Looks like it."

Kogan’s gaze shifted to him. "Active orders?"

"Kill on sight."

Kogan nodded once and walked back toward the others.

[A Safe House - Afternoon]

They found a room above a tavern on the edge of Lowmarket—small, but defensible. Two windows, one door.

Kael stood at the window, looking out at the street below. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, painting the rooftops in shades of amber and red. Behind him, the squad prepared. Kogan sat at the table, sharpening his sword with steady, rhythmic strokes. Bren checked his knives, laying them out in a neat row. Griggs cleaned his shield in silence, his expression unreadable. Jarek inspected his bowstring, testing the tension. Silas sat on the floor with his back against the wall, wincing as he adjusted the bandage around his torso.

Kael turned from the window. "We move at nightfall. The targets are active after dark. We’ll set up in Tanner’s Alley and wait." He paused. "We need bait."

The room went quiet.

Bren immediately took a step back. "Not me."

Kogan’s expression remained neutral. "I’m too large. They’ll spot me immediately."

Griggs said nothing. Just kept cleaning his axe.

Kael’s gaze moved to Jarek, who shook his head. "I’m the archer. Can’t shoot if I’m being eaten."

Everyone’s eyes turned to Silas.

"What?"

Kael walked toward him. "You’re injured. You look weak. Easy prey."

Silas’s face went pale. "Wait—Captain—I’m actually injured—"

"So you’ll be convincing."

"But—"

"Or you can head back to the barracks. Rest in the infirmary."

Silas opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then he sighed and leaned his head back against the wall.

"...Fine. I’ll do it."

Bren grinned. "Good man."

Silas shot him a glare. "Shut up."

Jarek adjusted the strap of his quiver and let out a short snort. "When this is over, I’m buying the first round."

Silas glanced at him. "With what?"

"I’ll figure it out." Jarek looked over at Kael, grin slightly crooked. "Captain—this time you’re not slipping out halfway."

Kael gave him a brief look. "We’ll see."

"No. We won’t."

[Tanner’s Alley - Night]

The alley was darker now, swallowed by shadows.

Kael crouched on a rooftop overlooking the entrance, his gaze fixed on the narrow passage below. Kogan was on the opposite roof. Bren and Griggs waited at ground level, hidden behind stacked crates. Jarek perched further back, bow ready.

Below, Silas stumbled into the alley. He swayed slightly, his steps uneven, a bottle dangling from one hand. He hummed tunelessly, the sound echoing off the walls—and reeked of cheap ale. They’d poured half a bottle on him before sending him in.

He walked deeper into the alley, muttering to himself. Then he stopped, tilted his head, and listened.

Kael’s hand moved to his sword hilt.

Silence.

Then—footsteps. Two sets. From the far end of the alley. Slow. Steady.

Two figures emerged from the darkness. Tall. Thin. Their movements smooth, almost gliding. They wore simple clothes—laborers’ tunics, worn trousers—and their faces were shadowed, but Kael could see their eyes. Watching.

Silas turned slowly, feigning drunken confusion. "Eh? Who’s there?"

The two figures stopped a few paces away. One of them smiled. "Lost?"

"Jus’... walking. Needed some air."

The second figure tilted his head. "Dangerous to walk alone at night."

"I’m fine. Really."

The first figure took a step closer. "Are you sure?"

Silas’s hand drifted toward his belt, fingers brushing the hilt of his hidden knife. "Yeah. I’m sure."

The two figures exchanged a glance—then the first one smiled wider. "Good." They took another step forward.

Both stopped at the same moment. Both tilted their heads at the same time. Like dogs hearing a whistle. One of them sniffed the air.

"Not alone."

Kael’s blade cleared the scabbard.

Now.