Banisher Reborn (A demon-hunting LitRPG) by Deck Davis

Author:Deck Davis [Davis, Deck]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-09-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Using the uniform and the gloop, Wren and Molly tracked the nurse to Manchester city centre. From there, we had to park the car in a multi-story car park. Molly and Wren left the vehicle and started walking toward the exit, where the bustling streets of Manchester waited.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” I said.

Wren raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Demon hunters need to pay for parking just like everyone else, I’m guessing?”

Molly grinned. “Right. Anyone got any change?”

After paying for four hours of parking to make sure the car didn’t get a ticket, we left the multi-story. Molly was the tracker now, and she guided us through the city. The dark throes of evening had spread across the skies of Manchester, and although it was a Tuesday night, the partiers and the drunks were out in full force. Manchester was a university city, and there were countless bars and clubs waiting to welcome the students with offers of two-for-one vodka and redbull drinks, a mix of alcohol and caffeine that would keep them going all night, while steadily dulling their senses.

She led us to the city’s Chinatown, where glowing red lanterns were hanging from trees, and neon signs affixed to brick buildings advertised all-you-can-eat buffets and late-night karaoke bars. The smell of pork and peppers and beef and spring rolls stirred hunger pangs inside me. When I watched a group of lads stumble toward a buffet restaurant, laughing and joking and shoving each other, I wished I was one of them, that my Tuesday night held the promise of rich Chinese food and then beers and karaoke, instead of tracking the vessel of a rat-loving demon.

A hen party walked passed us. The women were my age, and the hen wore a pink ballerina dress that was too skimpy for an autumn night. From the flush of her face I could tell that alcohol had given her a false sense of warmth. Wren couldn’t take his eyes off the party as they stumbled passed.

“Hello boys,” said one of the party.

Wren gave an awkward smile. “Hi.”

“Focus,” said Molly, stopping.

Molly hurried us on. Her tracking led us deep into Chinatown, to an alley that looked onto the backdoors of the restaurants. Rubbish was piled in mounds of black bin bags. At the far end of the alley, an Asian guy in a chef’s uniform smoked a cigarette, his face hidden by the shadows, with only the glowing ember of his cigarette visible.

“She’s here, somewhere,” said Molly.

“She might be in one of the restaurants,” I said.

“No. The tracker led us to the alley, but it’s run out, and I don’t have anything else I can use. She’s around here somewhere but we’re going to have to look for her the old-fashioned way.”

From here, the alleyway seemed to become a warren. It spun off into separate alleyways to the left and right, with another passage further ahead, near the smoking chef.

“Let’s take the left,” said Wren. “Start there, then work our way back here.”

“We’re going to have to split up, I’m afraid.

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