I have no plans to make do with just my makeshift makeover for this occasion, but I don't play my trump card in front of my friends or worse essential strangers. That is out of question. Instead I slip into the darkness of the back alley first and circle around to the decrepit house our targets use as a hideout. I don't get in right away either, checking for other entrances and exits first. There are none though. None that would be convenient for either me or even less so for these drug dealers.

There is no other door. And the windows on the ground floor are all rather small. Even with my slight build it would be tricky to squeeze through any of them. The people we followed here all were slightly more heavy set. They would never fit through. In a way that is reassuring.

There is something else I learn from my quick stakeout. The place has a basement. Thus there might be underground connections to one of the other houses nearby. Not by default, but some might have been dug later on anyway. I can't rule that possibility out. It's something I'll have to check for.

Eventually I slip in the front door, taking care to move inconspicuous. The others can see me from across the street for sure, but they keep up their act too. The stairwell almost right behind the entrance is plenty dark too, which is quite welcome. Two open doorways, or rather the door frames which are all that remains as the doors themselves have obviously been broken down, lead into abandoned apartments here on the ground floor. Not a single sound is coming from either, thus I ignore them for now.

The flight of stairs leading down are my first destination. I can hear hushed activity above, but I really want to check out the basement first. Thus that is where I head first. And besides, the deeper darkness on the way down gives me a chance to try something else.

I focus on my [Change Shape] skill, doing my best to visualize what I want to look like. It's a lot harder to visualize all the little details this time around, but somehow I manage. A considerable chunk of my Mana reserves drains away, but I don't mind as I have more than enough right now, and the change washes over me.

Some of the changes are easy. My hair color for one. That one is trivial. I make my ears elongate into slight tips too, like I have seen with half elves on occasion. That one is a little, but really only a little harder. Bolstering my rather modest chest a little is downright trivial again by comparison.

The rest is what takes it really out of me. Those are the ones that feel weird too. It's like a prickling all over my body, as the color of my skin changes to mimic full body tattoos, from the tips of my now slightly elongated ears, from under my hair actually all the way down to the tips of my fingers and toes. They are all inspired by what I saw Raccoon's actual followers sport. And to be honest, no matter how weird that change just felt, it's probably nothing compared to actually getting tattooed all over.

A most welcome notification immediately follows as the changes are done.

[*Ding!* Your racial skill Change Shape has leveled up to level 6!]

This one counts as progress to my scoundrel class. And the additional skill level results in an increase of my charm attribute and my magic power too. Overall this is pretty good. I just have to make sure not to forget to change back once I'm done here. I'm really not sure how my friends and acquaintances would take to this new look without any forewarning.

After hesitating ever so slightly to make these adjustments to my appearance I get going again. Both my [Stealth] and my [Perception] improve ever so slightly as I carefully make my way downstairs. Even given my pretty good perception skill its still tricky to make out anything down here, but that's alright. The basement, which is not very well constructed to be honest, seems to be empty except for some long abandoned trash and a few actual rats. The latter barely pay me any mind at all.

I make a short round of the basement anyway, steering clear of the rats, as far as I can, to check for any secret or not so secret passages to neighboring houses. There are none though. These drug dealers are probably only here because the building is abandoned and pretty much condemned for demolition.

And looking at the structural supports down here I have to wonder if they are clever, brave or utterly ignorant. The building might just come down on its own sometime soon. I decide not to spend any more time here than necessary.

The sooner I can get back out, the better. Seriously, it's bad enough to make my [Danger Sense] tingle. I'd usually appreciate any workout my skills get, welcome every little bit of progress, but right now isn't the best of times. For a moment or two I even pause to make sure it's not something or someone else that triggered the skill.

In the end I make may way upstairs, to the only two apartments still in use. The ones on the very top floor right under the roof. I move quietly, but not in a way that would suggests that I'm actually sneaking. Thankfully I have the agility necessary to make this work.

One of these apartments, nothing more than a single room big enough to hold several sets of bedding, is used for actual living. It's moderately clean and well maintained. I still wouldn't want to spend a night here. With a single look around I can glean that a total of three people live here. And all of those seem to be over in the other apartment.

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That's good. That way I don't have to worry too much about someone getting into my back. Unless of course they come up the stairs or in the dormer window. Well, I better not get careless, but I can focus most of my attention on the people obviously at work in the other room.

I slink over to the door in question. It doesn't have a lock, which is rather convenient. I'm not quite sure what awaits me behind it though. On the one hand, I don't feel like being shot with a crossbow at point blank range. On the other hand, acting like you are afraid of actions like that is a sure way to provoke suspicion in a situation like that.

I might just have to take a risk. Come to think of it, one crossbow bolt is unlikely to do me in. So, it's a calculated risk at worst. Alright, that is something I can do. After taking one last deep breath I give the not very sturdy door a light push, while casually leaning against the door frame myself, almost like I own the damned place. My introduction matches my stance.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

That's the question, isn't it. The answer is pretty simple. Three small fish producing more of that infernal, addictive substance called dreamstone dust by the light of a handful of oil lamps. The woman in the back, probably the brains of the outfit, is splitting small chips off a bigger, glittering and glowing crystal with chisel and hammer. The older of the two men is grinding those down with pestle and mortar. His slow, careful and methodical movements suggests that he is well aware just how addictive the dust he produces is. The same is probably true for the third, a pickle faced youth, who is carefully weighting small portions of dust which he then brushes into small pouches. More pouches, open and mostly neglected, all overflowing with pennies, sit on a shaky table to the side.

All three wear scarfs, which cover the lower halves of their faces, especially their mouths and noses. And all three freeze pretty much mid motion as I make my presence known. Neither looks happy to see me, and to be honest, why would they be? In their line of business there is no such thing as a nice surprise.

I can feel someone using an identification skill on me, but my [Shrouded Soul] skill performs exemplary once again, foiling the attempt. The older man, still frozen in mod motion, is the source. I wag my finger at him.

"Ts, ts! That's not very polite. Now, why don't you put everything down, carefully. We wouldn't want to have any accidents to happen while we talk. Wouldn't we?"

Even as I speak those words of warning I take note of something else. The younger man isn't just weighing and packing the wares. He is diluting the glittering drug too. My mouth actually stands open for a moment, as I realize what he is using.

"Are you … are you seriously cutting the stuff with house dust? Goodness gracious, that's … that's so disgusting!"

I make a retching sound for emphasis. I shiver too. I'm not joking. This has to be one of the most disgusting things they could possibly come up with. Except they probably never even thought much about what they are doing there. That at least is my best guess. Need to cut the glittering dust with something else? Something cheap and readily available? Why not use house dust? It's everywhere! Yeah, that's probably the grand total of thinking they did.

"you know, I didn't exactly have a lot of respect for you to begin with, but no matter how much I lower the bar, you somehow still manage to underwhelm me."

Finally the woman who has been carefully chipping away at the actual dreamstone crystal manages to find her footing. She even sounds a little exasperated as she speaks up in response.

"Oh, shut up you stupid goon! What do you want anyway? We have a deal and you damned trash pandas will only get your cut tomorrow! After the guard got theirs! So, shoo, get lost! Pester someone else!"

I have a hard time not laughing out loud. This is easier than expected. My [Gather Information] skill improves another bit too. Thank you very much. I still should try to get a little more information out of the three though. I manage to fight down the revulsion I feel about their product and flash her a dangerous, toothy grin.

"Oh, you have a deal? With some of those masked kits that barely have any tattoos worth showing or authority worth mentioning? Well, I have that tats to show and you have no deal with me. And I seriously consider if it wouldn't be best to wash my hands of you right here and now."

I mime washing my hands as I say those last words, much like an actual raccoon would wash their paws at the water.

The woman actually swallows the words she wanted to throw at me. She pales noticeably. The same is true for the other two. Oh yes, they know they are in trouble now.

I keep going to keep up the pressure. They may not be a trio characterized by their grand mental prowess in general, but I don't want to give them time to actually do any critical thinking to begin with. Now would really be an inconvenient moment for one of the three to discover that the activity isn't actually overrated.

"Go ahead, give me some names. If I'm busy knocking some sense into other boneheads you might just buy yourself enough time to make a getaway. Tell me which kit you made a deal with? Which guard gets the guard's cut? Go ahead, don't make me ask twice. You wouldn't like it if I have to repeat myself."

The approach works and my [Intimidate] skill improves too, enough so in fact, to earn me a very welcome level up notification for the skill, which counts towards the progress of my masked mediator class this time around. This is somehow very appropriate.

[*Ding!* Your racial skill Intimidate has leveled up to level 7!]

It's, curiously enough, the older man who buckles first. He blurts out the names I want before the others can stop him.

"Gebhard and Tekla! That's who we deal with! And whichever goon of the guard they have along."

It's only then that the woman in the back manages to intervene, before the old man can say anything else.

"Shut up! How often do I have to tell you to not name any names to no one!"

I nod along with her words.

"You really ought to listen to her."

My words seem to relax the trio a little. Neither of them notes me taking a deep breath, which I then hold. As I spring into action it comes as a total surprise to them. I knock over the table the men have been working at with a powerful kick, improving my [Brawling] skill a little in the process, sending all the addictive dust flying, mostly in their direction.

All three of them get a face full of the stuff. And all three breathe in more than a little too. The men barely even have time to register what is happening. Only the woman in the back really realizes what is going on, before she too goes down.

I in turn retreat out of the room before the cloud of glittering doom in the air can spread my way. I don't stick around to study the effect of the drug either, not even at a distance.

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