Strongest Incubus System Chapter 307: Where drugs are distributed

The roof was high enough to keep him distanced from the constant flow of the streets, but not so isolated as to obscure what truly mattered. Damon stood near the edge, his body motionless, his eyes fixed on the building across the narrow street.

There was no visible tension in him, no apparent impatience, but there was focus. A cold, direct focus that wasn’t distracted by the movent around him.

Below, the neighborhood continued its usual rhythm, people coming and going, businesses operating, guards passing by at irregular intervals.

To any ordinary observer, it was just another active point in the city.

To him, it was a possible core of sothing that needed to be removed.

Ester was a few steps behind, leaning against the base of a stone structure, her arms crossed as she also observed the place, but differently. Where Damon saw targets, she saw patterns.

Entrances, exits, frequency of movent, small inconsistencies. Her gaze was no less attentive, just more focused.

She observed the smallest details, such as the ti it took a person to leave, the way certain individuals avoided eye contact, the discreet presence of n always positioned in the sa spots.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke first, without taking her eyes off the building.

"Is this really necessary?" The question didn’t carry direct opposition, but it wasn’t just curiosity either. It was assessnt. She wanted to hear the full justification, not the short answer.

Damon didn’t look away.

"It’s about the Duchess," he replied directly, as if that alone were enough. He paused briefly before continuing. "If this is connected to her, then it’s not optional. It’s sothing that needs to be identified and eliminated."

Ester tilted her head slightly, absorbing the answer without imdiately objecting.

"Eliminate is a broad word," she comnted, still in the sa neutral tone. "Are you talking about stopping the distribution or eliminating everyone involved?"

Damon let out a soft sound through his nose, almost a humorless laugh.

"If necessary, everything." He finally shifted his gaze for a mont, analyzing movent at the side entrance of the building before returning to the main point. "It makes no difference keeping parts of sothing like this functioning. Either you cut it off at the root, or you co back later."

Ester nodded slowly, like soone who had already expected this response but wanted confirmation.

"That makes sense," she said. "Especially considering the type of substance we’re dealing with." She uncrossed her arms for a mont, resting one hand on her chin. "This ’Deluge’ isn’t sothing you partially control. Either you stop it, or it spreads."

Silence returned for a few seconds, but it wasn’t empty. It was the kind of occupied silence where both were processing the environnt and the possibilities. A group of three n entered the building, all with similar postures, avoiding eye contact with those around them. Damon followed the movent until the door closed behind them.

"That confirms sothing," he murmured.

Ester followed his gaze. "It confirms the pattern," she corrected. "But it doesn’t confirm the function yet."

Damon didn’t respond imdiately. He observed for a few more seconds, assessing the flow. "Cherry doesn’t usually get these details wrong," he finally said. "If she pointed to this place, it’s because there’s sothing here."

Ester shrugged slightly. "I’m not saying she’s wrong. Just that we haven’t seen enough to act without a margin of error."

Damon turned his face slightly in her direction. "Margin of error doesn’t change the final result."

Ester held his gaze for a second before returning to observe the building. "It changes the cost," she replied simply.

He didn’t retort this ti. He just refocused on the location.

Ti passed.

Slowly.

Steadfastly.

An hour had already dragged on since they arrived there, and the pattern was beginning to repeat itself more clearly. People ca and went at irregular intervals, but left with different expressions. So more tense, others strangely relaxed, so completely disoriented. It wasn’t sothing striking enough to catch the attention of passersby, but to those observing closely, the difference was evident.

Ester let out a soft sigh, uncrossing her arms again. "We’ve been here for an hour already," she said, finally verbalizing what was already obvious. "And the pattern is consistent."

Damon nodded, without looking away. "Yes."

She leaned slightly forward, taking a closer look at a woman who had just exited the building, walking slightly unsteadily. "Functional entrance, altered exit," she comnted. "It’s not pure storage. It’s an active distribution point."

Damon observed the sa woman for a few seconds before replying. "Then we confirm."

Ester nodded. "We confirm."

Another silence.

Shorter this ti.

"Do you still want to wait longer?" she asked.

Damon didn’t answer imdiately. His eyes scanned the building once more, analyzing doors, windows, possible escape routes. He was ntally mapping the space, even without having entered yet.

"No," he finally said. "We have enough."

Ester straightened her posture, stepping off the wall support. "Flat?"

Damon looked down, assessing the height of the roof in relation to the street. "Straight." She arched an eyebrow slightly. "Always straightforward."

He shrugged slightly. "It works."

Ester didn’t disagree. She just took a deep breath once, like soone preparing for the next step. "Then we go in, confirm internally, and eliminate the problem."

"Yes," Damon confird.

She looked at the building again, this ti with a more focused gaze. "Do you want to capture soone for information, or is it not worth the effort?"

Damon thought for a second.

Short.

"If soone useful shows up, yes," he replied. "If not, it’s not worth it."

Ester nodded. "Understood."

The wind passed between them, light, carrying the distant sound of the street. Neither of them moved imdiately. Not out of hesitation, but because they were both synchronizing the mont.

"You hate drugs," Damon comnted, without looking at her.

Ester let out a small sigh. "Yes."

"Why?"

She hesitated for half a second before answering. "Because it’s not just physical destruction," she said. "It’s loss of control. And I don’t like things that take control away from people."

Damon nodded slightly. "That makes sense."

She glanced at him sideways. "And you?"

He didn’t hesitate. "Because it’s useful for the wrong people."

Esther gave a slight nod. "Simple answer."

"That’s enough."

Another brief silence.

And then—

Damon took a step forward, stopping at the edge of the roof. "Let’s go."

Damon didn’t hesitate after taking the first step. His body simply fell from the edge of the roof, not like soone who had lost their balance, but like soone who had chosen to descend in the most direct way possible. There was no preparation, no visible calculation in the movent, just decision. The impact against the ground was heavy, dry, absorbed by his own body without any sign of real effort. The sound imdiately caught the attention of a few nearby, but none of them had ti to truly react before realizing who was there.

Ester descended soon after, but differently. Her movent was controlled, reducing the impact with precision, landing lightly beside him, almost silently. The difference between the two was clear even in the descent. Where Damon ignored the impact, she managed it. Where he advanced, she calculated. Still, the mont they touched the ground, both were already aligned in the sa objective.

They didn’t exchange words as they began to walk. It wasn’t necessary. The rhythm was set automatically, firm, steady steps, heading straight for the main entrance of the building. The people around noticed the approach even before understanding the reason. There was sothing wrong with the way Damon walked. It wasn’t open aggression, but it wasn’t neutrality either. It was intention.

Two n positioned near the door noticed first. They weren’t in uniform, but their posture betrayed their function. One of them uncrossed his arms and took a step forward, trying to block the path before even fully understanding who he was dealing with. The other stayed half a step behind, assessing.

"Closed space," said the first, in a firm tone, but not aggressive enough to be a real threat.

Damon didn’t slow down.

He kept walking as if he hadn’t heard.

The man frowned, taking another step to intercept directly. "Hey, I said—"

He didn’t finish.

Damon didn’t stop to argue. There was no warning, no gradual increase in tension. His hand simply moved, quick and direct, grabbing the man’s face before any other words could co out. The impact was imdiate. The man’s entire body was pushed back with brute force, his head being the first thing to hit the wall beside the door.

The sound was dry.

His body lost strength instantly.

It wasn’t a technical strike. It was force applied without concern for restraint.

The second man reacted too late. When he tried to draw a weapon, Ester was already in motion. A sideways step, a short turn, and his arm was intercepted before he could complete the gesture. She didn’t use excessive force, just precision. His wrist was twisted at an angle that allowed no resistance, and before he could even scream, a short blow to the neck silenced any reaction.

He fell.

Without unnecessary noise.

Damon released the first man, who slid down the wall to the floor, unconscious or worse. He didn’t even look back to confirm.

"Entry confird," Ester said, as if reporting sothing technical.

Damon simply pushed the door.

The interior was different from the exterior. More closed, more controlled, with low lighting and a faint sll in the air that wasn’t imdiately identifiable, but was present. People inside reacted to the sound of the door opening more forcefully than usual, and several glances turned simultaneously.

The pattern broke.

Employees, clients, interdiaries—everyone realized sothing was amiss.

Damon entered first.

Ester followed right behind.

Neither spoke.

The atmosphere didn’t erupt in imdiate panic, but the tension rose quickly. A man further back tried to discreetly exit through a side door. Another began to slowly walk away, as if that were enough to avoid drawing attention.

Damon saw.

But he didn’t react imdiately.

He was observing the space as a whole, absorbing the structure, the points of interest, the possible internal pathways.

"It’s not just distribution," Ester said softly, observing her surroundings with similar attention. "There’s an operation happening in here."

Damon nodded slightly. "Then we save ti."

One of the n finally decided to act. Perhaps out of desperation, perhaps out of obligation. He lunged forward with a short, swift blade, trying to capitalize on the apparent mont of distraction.

It was a mistake.

Damon turned his body at the precise mont, intercepting the movent before the blade even completed its arc. He gripped the attacker’s wrist with enough force to completely stop the attack in mid-air.

And then he tightened his grip.

The sound of bone snapping was clear.

Effortlessly.

Without pause.

He pushed the man aside, dismissing the body as irrelevant, and continued walking inward.

Now—

There was no more doubt.

The place knew.

And reacted.

Two other n ca from opposite sides, coordinated, attempting to flank. Ester moved before they completed their approach. She intercepted the first with a direct blow to the knee, knocking down his base before finishing with precision at the neck. The second tried to retreat upon realizing this, but it was too late. One step forward, one short movent, and he too was on the ground.

Damon didn’t slow down for a mont.

He moved through the space as if he were traversing sothing that no longer mattered. Every attempt at resistance was neutralized without visible effort, without prolonged exchange, without wear and tear.

"Funds," said Ester, looking at a reinforced door at the end of the main corridor.

Damon followed the indication without question.

The environnt was now in complete functional collapse. People trying to get out, others frozen, so completely lost, not knowing what to do. None of them were a priority.

They reached the door.

Damon didn’t test it.

He just pushed.

The structure gave way on impact, opening without enough resistance to delay him.

What was on the other side confird everything.

Tables.

Containers.

Substances being handled.

People working.

Production.

Not on a full industrial scale, but enough to sustain continuous distribution.

Ester glanced quickly, absorbing every technical detail.

"Confird," she said.

Damon entered.

And paused.

For a second.

Assessing.

Then he spoke:

"Close."