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

Mara spun around sharply, her breath hitching, and her body tensed for an attack. But as her eyes locked onto the figure behind her, she exhaled sharply.

"Cassandra?" she said, her voice a mix of relief and frustration. Her hand fell from where it had instinctively hovered near her pocket, ready to grab the red slime if necessary. "You scared the hell out of me."

Cassandra's lips quirked upward in a faint smirk, but her eyes were scanning their surroundings, alert and calculating. "Good reflexes," she said. "You're learning."

Mara placed a hand over her chest, trying to steady her racing heart. "I thought—" She paused, shaking her head. "Never mind. Did you lose him?"

"I did," Cassandra said, her tone low but steady. "He wasn't quick enough to keep up. I gave him the slip at a fence. But we need to stay low for now. And keep that slime down." She gestured toward Mara's hand, where the red glow was faintly visible.

Mara glanced at her hand and immediately lowered it further, hiding it behind the folds of her cloak. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't apologize," Cassandra replied. "Just be careful. We can't afford another chase." She paused, scanning the nearby street. Her gaze settled on a small, makeshift stall tucked between two crumbling walls. A wiry man stood behind it, bartering with a tired-looking woman over a bundle of cloth.

"Wait here," Cassandra said, nodding toward the stall. "I'll get you an overall. Don't move."

Mara nodded, her hand tightening around the slime in her pocket as she leaned against the wall, eyes darting around for any sign of their stalkers. The crowd around her bustled with energy—merchants haggling, children darting through the narrow alleys, and the occasional argument breaking out between rough-looking individuals.

Her mind raced as she waited. Why were they following us? Was it because of the slime? Or something else? The weight of the red sphere in her pocket felt heavier now, a constant reminder of the danger it had brought them.

Meanwhile, Cassandra reached the stall and pulled out a gem from her hidden stash. She held it out to the wiry merchant, her expression neutral but firm.

"An overall with a hood," she said simply.

The man's eyes narrowed as he examined the gem, his thin fingers running over its surface. "Haven't seen one of these in years," he muttered. "Where'd you get it?"

"Does it matter?" Cassandra replied smoothly.

The man grunted, then nodded. He pulled a worn overall from a stack behind him and handed it over. "Keep your head down," he advised, his tone almost conspiratorial.

Cassandra didn't respond. She grabbed the overall, turned, and began making her way back to Mara. As she moved, a faint conversation from the background caught her attention.

She resisted the urge to stop, not wanting the speakers to realize she was eavesdropping. Still, she had heard enough to piece together the important parts of their conversation.

Mara's gaze snapped to Cassandra as she approached, relief flickering across her face. "That was quick," she said.

Cassandra handed her the overall. "Put it on. We need to blend in as much as possible."

As Mara slipped into the oversized garment, Cassandra leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "While I was at the stall, I overheard something."

Mara glanced at her, frowning. "What?"

"They were talking about someone called Slime Boy," Cassandra began. "Apparently, he went missing after some kind of fight. A historic match against someone named Steele."

"Zafron," Mara said immediately, her voice catching slightly. She adjusted the hood of the overall, her expression darkening.

Cassandra nodded. "It has to be him. But the way they were talking... they said Steele might have found him. That they fought."

Mara's lips parted in shock. "Found him? Fought him? What happened?"

Cassandra hesitated. "I didn't hear the full story. But they were suggesting that Zafron might have died from his injuries."

Mara froze, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. A storm of emotions flashed across her face—fear, anger, sadness. "If that's true, we might be too late," she said softly, her voice trembling.

"Nothing's confirmed," Cassandra said quickly, her tone firm. "And the slime is still leading us. That means there's a reason. If Zafron were dead, why would it activate now? We have to follow it. When we find him, we'll get answers."

Mara took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "You're right. I just—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "We'll find him. We have to."

"We will," Cassandra said firmly. She glanced around, her gaze sweeping over the noisy street. "But we can't draw attention. You take the lead. I'll follow at a distance. If our stalkers are still around, they'll be looking for two of us together. Separating will throw them off."

Mara nodded, lowering her slime as she stepped forward. "I'll keep the glow down," she murmured.

Cassandra watched as Mara slipped into the crowd, her movements deliberate but unobtrusive. 'Good,' she thought. 'Keep calm. Blend in.' She followed at a safe distance, her eyes constantly scanning for any signs of trouble.

The crowd was rowdy, a mixture of criminals, scavengers, and opportunists. People shouted over each other, bartering loudly or arguing about bets.

"NutCracker's gonna crush 'em in the next match!"

"You're outta your mind. I'm putting my crystals on Hatch."

Cassandra's lips pressed into a thin line. 'They've turned this wasteland into their own twisted society,' she thought. 'Gambling, trading, surviving. They've been cast down here, but they've built something anyway. No wonder the Enforcers struggle to control it.'

Despite her musings, her focus never left Mara, whose hooded figure weaved steadily through the crowd.

*****

The noise of the market began to fade as they moved into a quieter area. The ramshackle buildings gave way to small, cluttered homes, their exteriors patched with scavenged materials.

Mara slowed her pace, glancing down at the slime. It pulsed faintly, its tendrils pointing toward a squat, weathered house at the edge of the residential area.

Cassandra caught up, her brow furrowing as she studied the building. It looked abandoned, its door slightly ajar and its windows covered with grime. At the door was a banner, boldly written on it was "Cat Girl's Den."

"This is it?" Mara asked, her voice low.

"The slime says so," Cassandra replied. She scanned their surroundings, her hand instinctively moving to her pocket where her own slime rested. The street was quiet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

"It seems... empty," Mara said, stepping closer to the door. "What if no one's here?"

"Only one way to find out," Cassandra said. She knocked once, the sound echoing in the silence.

They waited, their breaths shallow.

"Hello?" Cassandra called, her voice steady. No response.

Mara frowned and knocked harder. The force of her knock pushed the door open slightly, the creaking hinges breaking the silence. Both women froze.

"It wasn't even locked?" Mara whispered, glancing at Cassandra.

Cassandra's jaw tightened. "No. It's broken." She gestured toward the jagged edges near the latch. "Someone forced their way in."

Mara's eyes widened, fear flickering across her face. "Should we go inside?"

Cassandra hesitated, then nodded. "Stay behind me."

Mara pushed the door open cautiously, the two women stepping into the dimly lit interior. The air inside was heavy, carrying a faint metallic tang. The room was small and cluttered, with overturned furniture and shattered glass scattered across the floor.

"What happened here?"

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