The Multiverse Hunter

"Things are only getting more interesting," Ali muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper, as he surveyed the wreckage of the now-disheveled hotel room. Wooden shards were scattered across the floor, and the bed had been knocked askew in the commotion. Yet, for all the chaos, there were no real clues to be found.

'There's not much here, but I'm sure they know who rented this place,' Ali thought. His gaze lingered on the worn furniture and cracked walls for another moment before he turned and headed toward the stairs. On the way down, his shoes thudded lightly against the creaky wood, the only sound in the eerily quiet hotel.

The receptionist was still slumped against the wall behind the desk, his body sprawled awkwardly across the floor.

Ali searched the hotel's records only to see a receipt of someone paying credits for one night only.

Ali crouched beside the receptionist, slapping him across the face hard enough to jolt him awake.

"Wha—what?!" The man sputtered, his eyes flying open as he scrambled backward. His voice was thick with fear as he stammered, "Who—who are you? What happened?"

Ali didn't bother answering his questions. Instead, he held up the room key he'd taken from the upstairs door. "Who rented out this room?" he asked coldly, his tone as sharp as the edge of a blade.

The receptionist blinked, still disoriented. "I—I don't—"

Ali didn't let him finish. With the swift motion of a practiced killer, he pulled his desert eagle from beneath his suit's jacket and pressed the cold barrel against the man's sweaty forehead.

"Answer the question," Ali said, his voice low and deadly. "Or I'll paint these walls with your brain."

The receptionist froze, his wide eyes locked on the gun. He nodded frantically, his breathing shallow and rapid.

"It—it was a human male!" he blurted out. "He—he hid his face and didn't give a name! That's all I know!"

Ali's finger tightened slightly on the trigger, causing the receptionist to flinch. "That's not enough," Ali growled. "What else? Clothes, scars, weapons—anything you noticed?"

The man swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "He… he had blue armour boots. And—and a bag! A big one! I saw blasters inside when he opened it, but I swear, that's all I know! Please, I'm telling you the truth!"

Ali narrowed his eyes, studying the man for any sign of deceit. Satisfied that he wasn't lying, he sighed and holstered his weapon. He rose to his full height, towering over the cowering receptionist, before turning on his heel and walking toward the exit.

'A shitty hotel that doesn't ask for ID and doesn't have cameras,' Ali thought as he stepped out into the dimly lit underground streets of Tartek. 'Perfect for low-lives and criminals. Not so perfect for me.'

As Ali strolled through the maze-like streets, his thoughts turned to his next destination. 'I should check out the auction house.'

The underground levels of Tartek's capital were a labyrinth of narrow alleys, towering industrial structures, and shadowy figures conducting their business in the dim glow of neon lights. Ali moved through the crowds with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning every face and every corner for potential leads.

Eventually, he arrived outside a massive building illuminated by striking violet lights. The structure radiated wealth and exclusivity, its tall gates bearing the auction house's insignia: a golden gavel surrounded by intricate filigree.

Ali approached the gates casually, his hands in his pockets. He craned his neck slightly, pretending to admire the architecture.

"Excuse me, sir," a burly guard said, stepping forward to block his path. "The auction house is closed."

"Yeah, I'm just looking around," Ali replied nonchalantly, his tone deliberately casual.

The guard frowned and moved closer, his imposing frame casting a shadow over Ali. "Sir, please walk away from the premises," he said firmly. "Or I'll have to move you myself."

Ali raised his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, man. I'm new in town. Cut me some slack."

The guard wasn't amused. He grabbed Ali by the jacket and shoved him back forcefully, making him stumble. "I won't warn you again," the guard growled.

"Alright, alright. I'm leaving," Ali said, dusting off his jacket with an exaggerated motion. He turned and began walking away, his movements deliberately slow and unthreatening.

Once he was out of sight, Ali smirked, glancing down at the guard's ID pass now sitting in his hand. He'd slipped it from the man's pocket during the scuffle.

Ali made his way around the building, finding a secluded alley behind the auction house. A tall metal fence blocked his path, but Ali didn't hesitate. With a burst of Force energy, he leapt effortlessly over the two-and-a-half-meter barrier, landing silently on the other side.

He crouched low, his sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit courtyard. Workers bustled around the area, moving crates and loading machinery. Ali spotted a side door and crept toward it, keeping to the shadows.

Around the corner, a worker stood smoking, oblivious to Ali's presence. Ali waited patiently, watching as the man finished his cigarette and used his ID card to unlock the door.

The moment the door clicked shut behind the worker, Ali moved. Ali put his ear against the door to hear the worker's footsteps echo further and further away before he pulled out the stolen ID card and slid it through the scanner, smirking as the door beeped and unlocked.

Inside, Ali found himself in a massive warehouse. Stacks of wooden crates and heavy machinery filled the space, workers shouting instructions as they moved cargo.

Ali stayed low, weaving between the crates and using his heightened hearing to track the workers' movements.

'Looks like they're preparing for a massive sale,' he thought, overhearing snippets of conversation. Workers complained about the long hours and extra shifts, grumbling about the overtime they were forced to work recently.

"Sir, we have the statue ready," one worker said nearby.

Ali's ears perked up, and he peered around the edge of a crate to see three workers carrying a small statue encased in a glass box.

"Alright, take it up and be careful," their superior said, his tone sharp with authority. "If anything happens to it, we're all dead."

Ali followed them at a distance, his movements silent as he stuck to the shadows.

The workers reached a thick steel vault, where their superior entered a password into a keypad. The heavy door hissed open, revealing the treasures stored inside.

"Holy fuck," one of the workers breathed, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. The vault was filled with gleaming jewellery, ornate weapons, and ancient artefacts, each item more valuable than the last.

"Shut up and watch where you step," the superior snapped, glaring at the awestruck worker.

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