BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Erik activated his Chameleon Veil, his form dissolving until he was almost completely invisible.

He donned his mask and hooded cloak, further concealing his existence.

With the grace of a shadow, he tiptoed through the crowds of people who were unaware of his presence.

As Erik ventured deeper into the city, the streets grew crowded. Pedestrians of all types filled the narrow cobblestone pathways, creating a sea of bodies that Erik had to navigate through.

Children, their laughter echoing through the streets, darted around, playing their games, oblivious to the world around them.

Men and women, young and old, haggled with the street vendors, their voices rising above the din.

But it was the mercenaries who dominated the scene. They were a motley crew of roughened individuals, their bodies hardened by countless battles and faces etched with scars.

Despite his best efforts, Erik's near-invisible form brushed against a few pedestrians.

A young boy's laughter echoed through the streets, his small hands tossing a worn-out leather ball with innocent enthusiasm. Joy animated his face, smeared with the grime of the streets, as his eyes sparkled with the thrill of the game he was playing.

Suddenly, his laughter faltered, his movements stilled. His little hands clutched the ball tighter, his gaze scanning the surroundings.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a faint shimmer, like a mirage. It was Erik, his form barely visible under the Chameleon Veil, the light ripples shimmering through his form.

The child stood frozen, his eyes wide with surprise and curiosity. He looked around, but all he saw were the familiar faces of the city dwellers, oblivious to the invisible specter that had just passed by him.

Erik moved stealthily, his Chameleon Veil rendering him nearly invisible yet not entirely imperceptible.

As he navigated the crowded streets, his physical presence occasionally brushed against passersby, stirring ripples of confusion in his wake.

Despite his best efforts to weave through the throngs of people undetected, the challenge of avoiding physical contact in the bustling city proved to be a tricky endeavor.

Erik arrived at his destination - the Mercenary Guild. He stood at a distance, his gaze focused on the imposing building before him. A determined look settled on his face and he said under his breath, "Now, let's find this motherfucker."

As Erik approached the entrance of the Mercenary Guild, he blended into the crowd of mercenaries that thronged the area.

To his left, a cloak of deep green draped a broad-shouldered man. A quiver full of arrows peeked over his shoulder, hinting at his expertise in archery. At his hip hung a short sword, its hilt adorned with intricate carvings.

On his right, a woman stood out with her suit of leather armor dyed a striking shade of crimson. She strapped twin daggers to her thighs, and their blades gleamed ominously under the sunlight.

One burly mercenary, a large scar running down his face, turned to his companion, a lean woman with sharp eyes. "Heard about the new quest?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

The woman nodded, her hand tracing the hilt of her sword. "Yeah, about the Shapeshifter's killer? Seems like a tough one."

"I heard it pays well. Whoever this killer is, they've got everyone on edge."

Scar-face agreed. "Never seen the Guild this riled up before. Whoever nabs this killer is going to be a legend."

Erik listened to their conversation, his expression unreadable beneath his veil. The irony of the situation was not lost on him - here he was, the Shapeshifter's killer they were talking about, standing amidst them, listening to their plans of hunting him down.

The man's gaze swept across the room, seeking the entrance to the guild's private quarters. Unlike the familiar layout of the mercenary guild hall in Testrovsc's Rest, this place had a different arrangement.

The main hall bustled with activity around the holographic computers, where mercenaries interacted with their quest interfaces, their fingers gliding through digital screens with practiced ease.

To one side of the room was a bar, a mix of old and new - while the counter was made of polished oak; the drinks were dispensed from automated machines.

Mercenaries clustered around it, discussing their quests over glasses of synth-ale.

Giant flat-screen TVs adorned the walls, broadcasting the latest news in high definition.

Live feeds from different parts of the city played out on these screens, providing real-time updates on ongoing missions and city affairs.

On the other side of the room, a long line of counters stretched out. Behind these counters, clerks were busy assisting mercenaries with tasks that required human intervention.

In contrast to the open-plan seating in Testrovsc's Rest, where sofas were interspersed for informal discussions and meetings with Porter companies, this guild hall had designated rooms for such purposes.

The décor was sleek and modern, with clean lines and a high-tech ambiance.

Ambient lighting gave the space a futuristic feel, while the use of glass and polished metals added to the sophisticated atmosphere.

The intentional separation of areas for quest selection and team discussions showed a more organized and hierarchical approach to mercenary operations.

<All this seems over the top. In Testrovsc's Rest, a sofa and a handshake were enough. Here, it's like they need a whole separate room just to decide who's going to fetch the next round of drinks. >

His tone carried a hint of amusement mixed with skepticism, finding the arrangements more for show than practical necessity.

<Whatever. It's not like I have to work here. >

At that moment, Erik's eyes landed on the door he had been searching for.

Tucked away in a less conspicuous part of the hall, it was marked by subtle elegance, contrasting with the high-tech ambiance.

He strode towards it, his steps purposeful, a sense of relief washing over him as he approached.

At one point, he found his path blocked by a large man engrossed in a holographic display. The man was moving his hands animatedly, completely oblivious to Erik's presence.

Erik had to sidestep to avoid a collision. His heart skipped a beat as his shoulder missed the man's flailing hand.

For a moment, he held his breath, waiting for any sign that he'd been detected. But the man went on with his day, unaware of the invisible presence that had just brushed past him.

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