Cherno Caster: A Cyberpunk LitRPG by Akaso

Author:Akaso [Akaso]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MoonQuill
Published: 2024-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Continuing on with Casus’ guidance, they made their way through the city to another safe zone, this time a modest Zaveshian shrine. The front end resembled a far smaller version of the great temple in the main square, but after a brief exchange with the janitor, they were led into the back. He was an Evoy, as Krahe noticed by peering beneath the hood of the heavy robe that shrouded his body.

“May Zavesh guide you to perfection of self, sister,” he said to Krahe as she passed in Casus’ wake.

Behind the shrine, down a short hallway with several doors, Casus headed to the room at the very end. Upon entering the dimly lit space, Krahe was met by a nostalgic sight, one quite unlike Razem’s prim and proper sanctum. It was a small room lit by an overhead light, with an articulated medical chair in the middle, one made of hardwood wrapped in strange, scaly leather and padded with who knew what. Many tubes and cables hung from its underside, leading to an array of gruesome tools on a separate rack.

Artificial arms, legs, and strange parts of many different makes dangled from the ceiling, while bundles of living flesh and even whole organs floated in large jars. These jars, connected to tubes that led through the wall, were filled with differing shades of glowing fluid and plastered in varieties of curious religious seals. Some were wrapped, like her arm, while others were covered by stick-on rectangular seals akin to Taoist talismans for good fortune, which had been popular in parts of the undercity.

A miasma of smoke hung over everything. At first, she thought it to be the incense burning in one of the corners, but then she noticed the half-filled ashtray sitting right next to medical tools on a counter. The smoke languidly flowed across the ceiling toward a vent with a fan in one of the corners. Almost as quickly as the fan took the smoke away, the grafter added more with his constant smoking. He was a thin, aged-looking man, not because of wrinkles, but because of his demeanor. Despite having the face of a twenty-five-year-old, the grafter gave off the feeling of a leathery old bastard. He wore a loose robe overlaid by a heavily stained leather apron, the skin of his forearms being a noticeably different shade from his face. A pair of multi-lensed glasses sat on his nose, the lenses flipping up and down seemingly on their own. His eyes glowed light yellow.

While Casus got in the operating chair, Krahe took a seat against the wall, on one of a grand total of three seats found in this room.

While the grafter worked away at his arm, he asked who Krahe was, to be permitted to enter a grafter’s shrine workshop and observe holy work being done. The Banisher openly mentioned that Krahe was a foreigner from a far land with corrupt religious organizations. It was obviously codespeak for “She’s an Otherworlder,” at least as far as Krahe was concerned.

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