Intergalactic conquest with an AI-Chapter 337: Blood Clan world. {3}

"What in the world is happening? Didn't you assure me we were safe in this place?" Rex's voice was sharp with urgency as he darted toward the grime-streaked window, pressing close to the cracked glass to peer into the dimly lit streets beyond.

A tense silence lingered before Zynaria responded; her tone was measured yet edged with caution.

"Do not fret, young Emperor. Their hunt is not for us. It appears another intruder has breached the Blood Clan's underground city and judging by the commotion, they must be at least Tier 6 or higher."

"Since the ones pursuing him are an entire squadron of Tier 6 elites, flanked by a handful of Tier 5 and 4 powerhouses."

Even as she spoke, her nimble fingers danced through the air, weaving intricate strands of energy as she crafted more spider drones, tiny, shadow-cloaked scouts, along with a swarm of nearly invisible mosquito drones.

Their purpose was to surveil the labyrinthine alleys while keeping vigilant watch over the movements near their hidden refuge.

"Well, since contacting Cleo or the others is impossible right now, I'll scout the city alone," Rex declared, his voice firm. "Moving together would only draw more suspicion. Stay here, monitor the situation, and we'll coordinate through the comms."

Zynaria merely nodded, her focus unbroken as she continued her work, her crimson eyes flickering with the glow of holographic data streams. Without another word, Rex slipped out of the hideout, melting into the shadows of the slums.

The narrow, filth-ridden streets were alive with the furtive movements of the Blood Clan's lowest caste... wretched souls bound by hunger and desperation.

As Rex moved among them, a few hollow-eyed figures turned to glance at him, their nostrils flaring as if scenting the air. Yet, just as quickly, they averted their gazes, returning to their wretched affairs.

The Blood Clan possessed an innate ability to detect the essence of any race through their blood, a trait that made outsiders easy prey. But Rex was no ordinary intruder.

His heritage was a fusion of Kaelzar blood and nanomachine-infused enhancements, a hybrid composition that masked his true nature. To the Blood Clan's senses, he was just another faceless dweller in the slums, invisible to the patrols hunting for trespassers.

Emerging from the squalor, Rex stepped onto the main road, a stark contrast to the slums. The wide avenue pulsed with life from merchants hawking wares, mercenaries clad in battle-scarred armor, and slaves shuffling under the weight of heavy collars.

Two distinct groups dominated the crowd: those bound in servitude and those who wore the insignias of hired blades.

"Mini Cleo," Rex murmured under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. "Any trace of the twins?"

A tiny holographic figure materialized on his shoulder, her digital wings fluttering in agitation.

{Negative, Boss. There's some kind of interference down here... something disrupting my scanners. And that's not all…} She wiped nonexistent sweat from her brow, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush.

{I've had to dodge bursts of stellar energy radiating from the high-tier powerhouses lurking around. This place is crawling with them!}

Rex's lips curled into a grim smirk. "Mmm. So we've wandered straight into the tiger's den, huh?"

Mini Cleo's tiny form shimmered as she conjured a miniature hunter's rifle and tipped a comically oversized hat onto her head. {Seems that way, Boss. And this cave is absolutely packed with tigers.}

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"Well," Rex let out a small chuckle while poking her holographic head with a finger, "if you want to steal a tiger cub, you've got to venture into the cave first. Speaking of which, did you manage to transmit the city's structural data?"

{Aye, Boss!} She saluted, then quickly added, {But I'd recommend finding a secure spot before pulling up the holograms. Displaying classified intel in the middle of the street? Not the brightest idea.}

Her antics drew a rare chuckle from Rex, a momentary reprieve from the tension coiling in his chest. If not for her, he might've already resorted to carving a bloody path through the city in sheer frustration.

"Well…" His gaze lifted, scanning the neon-lit signs until one in particular caught his eye. "Looks like I've found the perfect place for a little… privacy."

Before them loomed a garish, blood-red sign, its flickering letters spelling out:

[BLOODY RAIN NIGHT CLUB]

Rex and Mini Cleo exchanged a glance.

This was either the best or worst idea yet.

Rex strode toward the entrance of the Bloody Rain Night Club, his boots clicking against the obsidian pavement.

Unlike the neon-lit pleasure dens of other worlds, where throngs of eager patrons clamored for entry, this place stood eerily silent. No line, no bouncer checking lists, just two hulking lizardkin guards, their scaled hides glistening under the dim crimson glow of the club's signage.

As he approached, one of the reptilian sentinels snapped to attention, his forked tongue flicking out as he barred Rex's path with a massive, clawed hand.

"Halt!" the guard snarled, his voice a gravelly growl. "This establishment is exclusive to the Blood Clan or those bearing a VIP's invitation. Reveal your face and present your identification."

His grip tightened on Rex's shoulder, the talons digging in just enough to remind him of the consequences of defiance.

Rex exhaled slowly, irritation flickering in his eyes. Without a word, he reached up and pulled back his coat's hood, letting the dim light wash over his features.

The effect was immediate.

The lizardman's slit pupils dilated in shock, his armored frame stiffening as he took in Rex's crimson eyes with a shade so deep it seemed to pulse with latent power and his long, bone-white hair cascading like a frozen waterfall down his back.

In the Blood Clan, white hair was more than a rarity; it was a mark of supremacy. Only those whose bloodlines traced back to the ancient progenitors bore such a trait, and even then, only the purest of their kind manifested it in full.

For Rex to possess it entirely, he might as well have been royalty.

The guard's demeanor shifted instantly, his earlier bravado crumbling into groveling deference.

"F-Forgive our insolence, my lord!" he stammered while bowing so low his horns nearly scraped the ground. "We had no idea someone of your esteemed standing would—"

Rex silenced him with a raised hand, his expression one of bored impatience. "Enough. I have no interest in ceremony. Escort me to the VIP section and ensure no one speaks of my presence."

With that, he tugged his hood back up, shrouding his face in shadow once more.

The guard didn't dare argue. With a hurried nod, he led Rex through the club's heavy doors, past the writhing masses of dancers bathed in blood-red strobe lights, and up a gilded staircase to the exclusive VIP tier.

The private chambers here were opulent, with plush couches, crystal decanters of vintage sanguine wine, and, of course, escorts of every exotic race imaginable, their collars marking them as the Blood Clan's "hospitality."

But Rex wasn't here for distractions.

No woman, no matter how alluring, could compare to his own queens, each more lethal than the last. The honeyed traps of this den held no sway over him.

"Alright, Mini Cleo," he muttered while sinking into a velvet-lined sofa. "Pull up the city schematics. Let's see if we can pinpoint the twins' location."

A holographic screen flickered to life before him, casting an eerie glow across his sharp features. Mini Cleo materialized beside it, clutching a tiny ruler like a field marshal preparing a battle plan.

{Here's what we've got so far, Boss!} she chirped while tapping the map. {Zynaria's drones are still mapping, so it's incomplete, but I've flagged key areas of interest.}

Her tiny hands moved swiftly, highlighting sectors, the slave markets, the mercenary guildhalls, the subterranean docks... each a potential lead.

Rex's jaw tightened as he studied the sprawling, labyrinthine layout.

"We're fucked," he growled while dragging a hand through his hair. "This damn city is built like a flat disc... it'd take weeks to comb through every sector. There's got to be a faster way."

Mini Cleo chewed her lip, her wings fluttering anxiously.

{Well…} she began, hesitating. {There is one option. But you're not gonna like it.}

Rex exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening into fists before relaxing again. The weight of their limited choices pressed down on him like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating.

His gaze, a turbulent mix of desperation and flickering hope, was locked onto Mini Cleo like a silent plea for a miracle, any miracle, even one wrapped in thorns.

Mini Cleo hesitated, her holographic form flickering as if mirroring her unease. The words she was about to utter clung to her like shadows, knowing full well the storm they would unleash. But the mission demanded sacrifice, and time was a luxury they no longer possessed.

{We can go to a slave market...}

The words hung in the air like a blade suspended over silk. Rex's expression darkened, a tempest of old wounds and smoldering rage flashing behind his eyes.

Mini Cleo paused, watching him carefully, every micro-expression, every controlled breath. She knew the scars slavery had left on him, the vows he had sworn in blood and fire.

But when he gave a slow, reluctant nod, she continued, her voice softer now, laced with reluctant urgency.

{According to the data Zynaria just intercepted, the Blood Clan doesn't just traffic slaves; they've built an empire on it. And tonight… there's a private auction. Invitation-only. Elders and above.}

She made another pause. The air grew thicker, charged with unspoken revulsion. Rex's jaw clenched, but he didn't interrupt. Mini Cleo's projection dimmed slightly briefly.