The morning sun cast long shadows across Glennsworth's cobblestone streets as the town stirred to life once more in a hesitant hustle. Children of all ages ran about with little baskets on their backs, ripping and pulling out the multicolored vines or plucking mushrooms that had taken root in the alleyways.

  It would have been just another sleepy morning in this half-crooked town, but another hand slipped across the necks of the people of Glennsworth. Not only were the criminal elements of this town extorting them, but the oppressive boot of the Imperials had made any form of business borderline impossible. Regardless, it didn’t quite matter who was harassing them; the merchants and shopkeepers of this town were resilient and still made sure to load their stalls with fresh produce, and the bakeries were still going to open, allowing the scent of freshly baked bread to waft through the crisp morning air.

  Despite the previous night's tension at Mara's, Ferei managed to take a cue from that terrifying beastkin and confidently strode down the main thoroughfare of the merchants' district. She realized how much she could influence how someone perceived her with a strut and a harsh look and thought to try it out herself. They still had one more order of business to take care of before they had to meet with that insufferable piece of garbage, Hovem. So why not?

  Testing this newfound modus operandi, Ferei put on her best imitation of Indi and sauntered into the bakery, flicking her hair with her hand and letting out an annoyed “ugh.” She was nowhere near as refined or as sensual as that feline, but Ferei worked with what she had. Once inside, she noticed the atmosphere was a delicate blend of warmth and underlying tension as Elijah was occupying the workers' attention. The few customers already inside gave her a wary glance, immediately tagging her as some thug, and quickly made their exit.

  When everyone at the counter finally noticed Ferei’s presence, the woman dramatically flicked her head to the side to brush the hair out of her eyes. Elijah was momentarily taken aback as he stood there, his brow furrowed in confusion, while he observed Ferei’s newly adopted, almost theatrical demeanor. He stood beside a portly man who was clearly the baker, with a round figure and a flour-dusted apron. The baker was next to a nervous attendant who shifted like a frightened animal behind the service desk, looking as though she wanted to run to the back.

  Then, to set her up to be in control of the situation, Elijah’s voice rang out, “Boss! Boss, these are the guys I told you about—” He said, walking toward her but stopped when Ferei shot him a scalding glare.

  Ferei’s eyes blazed with equal parts irritation and disbelief as she stepped forward. “Can you explain to me why you dragged me out here to a goddamn... bakery?!” she demanded in a tone that dripped with incredulity.

  Azeline stood in the background with her arms folded, smirking, extremely entertained. She kept quiet, but seeing the usual overwhelmed and intimidated Ferei act as if she was king shit on top of turd mountain was just far too good not to enjoy. But the rest of the room fell silent for a heartbeat as Ferei’sr question hung heavily in the air. The performance had caught everyone off guard, especially the portly baker and his attendant, who exchanged nervous glances.

  Meanwhile, Elijah’s expression shifted from surprise to amusement as he reassessed Ferei. She was laying on it a bit thick, but there was a lot of potential to be had here. Not letting her act go to waste, Elijah put on a strained, almost meek air, allowing Ferei to take center stage.

  His eyes flicked toward the ground for a moment before giving the portly baker and his trembling attendant a nervous peek “B-boss, look,” he began, scratching his head. “I was just trying to help and thought this might have been a pretty convenient spot to store some of our stuff. I mean, who’d think a bakery— Ack!”

  Before he could continue, Ferei had snatched a freshly baked bread roll from a nearby tray and bounced it right off his head. “You thought?!” Ferei pointed an accusing finger at Elijah and snapped, “You thought what, exactly?! That you’d get the Imperials on our ass just because some attendant girl took one look at you!?”

  “What?!” Elijah genuinely yelped at Ferei’s accusation and Azeline’s Smug as if to say that was definitely the case. “No, no, no! Wait, wait, wait—that’s not— Ack!”

  But Ferei wasn’t done. With a scowl, she grabbed another bread roll and lobbed it at him, causing Azeline to burst out laughing with a hand on her face. “Shut up, fuck gods damned idiot! Why in the infinite hells would we support a damned bakery?!”

  Shifting her ire, Ferei looked and marched on the Baker. “You! Fatty!” She growled out as she shifted her finger at the baker. “Please explain to me why we should you with… fucking anything?!” Her words cut through the lingering silence like a sharpened blade, leaving the baker and attendant rooted to the spot in fearful uncertainty. “What do we get out of this?!”

  The baker’s voice trembled as he tried to answer, “W-well, y-you see… the Imperials— they’re demanding more bread. They need a steady supply… so…” His words faltered pathetically under the weight of his own cowardice.

  Ferei’s eyes narrowed in disdain, and as Elijah tried to make his way past her, the woman delivered a swift and sharp smack to the back of Elijah’s head.

  “Ack!” Elijah yelped as he stumbled forward, rubbing where he was just hit with an expression that said as if he was genuinely hurt. Azeline, on the other hand, stood off to the side and burst into uncontrollable laughter, knowing full well that the bastard deserved every bit he got.

  Turning her attention back to the quivering baker, Ferei leaned in so close that the baker’s face nearly filled her view. “And…?” Her tone was both impatient and cutting as she wore a look on her face that emphasized her dwindling patience. “How is that my problem?” she demanded scornfully.

  The baker’s eyes widened in panic as he fumbled for an escape. In desperation, he glanced over his shoulder for rescue—and his plea came in a frantic stutter from his niece, who had stepped forward hesitantly. “M-ma’am, they’ll kill me if we don’t have enough—” she pleaded, voice quivering like a leaf in a storm.

  Ferei’s lips twisted into a sardonic smirk as she regarded the trembling girl. “Well, you should probably get baking then, shouldn’t ya, hun?” she replied in a mocking tone. With a light, cruel laugh, Ferei then turned on her heel and walked off dismissing the niece’s frantic attempt to intercede.

  However, before Ferei could take a proper step, the girl panicked and grabbed her arm. In response, Ferei jerked her arm away and seized that attendant’s wrist with a snarl that said she was ready to run her through. But before Ferei could say anything, Elijah shuffled up from behind with a conspiratorial tone. “Come on, boss… look at 'em. They're desperate.”

  Elijah looked between the terrified girl with tears in her eyes and the cowering baker that had somehow made his way to door way leading to the back. “ I’m more than certain if we slip them a bit of surplus, they’ll be more than willing to hold onto some of our… ‘extra goods’ so our guys can come in and out unnoticed.”

  A click of Ferei’s tongue resounded before she spun sharply around and shot Elijah a frigid glare. “You just wanna fuck her!” she chastised in a voice full of exasperation and anger.

  Before the tension could escalate any further, the anxious attendant suddenly interjected, seizing the opportunity Elijah had just provided her. “I’ll do anything! I swear it!” she exclaimed. “I swear on my life, I’ll do whatever you ask and hide anything you need—just please, let me help!”

  A nefarious sparkle twinkled in Elijah’s eye as he forced a neutral expression, warding off the predatory grin that was trying to form. Seeing Ferei taken aback by the declaration, Elijah offered her a subtle nudge, causing the woman to nearly jump before snapping back into character and releasing her grip on the terrified attendant.

  “Fine, but you buy our flour.” Ferei finally responded, shifting her steely glare between the baker and his quivering neice

  Both bakery workers offered a nervous nod as relief began to seep into their wide eyes. They were desperate for any and all products, however meager. Across town, bakeries, breweries, taverns, and even street vendors fought tooth and nail for every scrap of flour, yeast, and salt that arrived. Any morsel was used to sustain their modest livelihoods while simultaneously meeting the relentless demands of the Imperials.

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  Sensing an opening at their immediate response, Ferei amended the deal with a cutting tone, “At a premium!”

  The baker hesitated. He looked at his niece and then Ferei and opened his mouth in an attempt to negotiate about their already strained budget, but before he could muster another word, his niece blurted out in a frantic rush. “Deal!” She desperately bellowed, slamming her hand on the counter, hitting a metal display tray and sending bread rolls flying.

  The girl clutched Ferei’s hand with a terrified plea. “I just don’t want to die... please... I’ll do whatever you need, just let me know and I’ll do it!”.

  Ferei’s gaze softened slightly before she dismissed the plea with a curt nod and spent the next few minutes finalizing the schedule for a follow-up meeting to discuss further instructions and the finer details. Afterward, Ferei, Azeline, and Elijah exited the bakery and stepped back out into the bustling morning.

  “Good fuckin’ job, Ferei.” Elijah looked at Ferei with genuine admiration. “I’m actually really impressed. I wasn’t expecting anything close to that kind of performance.”

  Ferei offered a brief, grateful smile. “Thanks, boss—you told me to be as authentic as possible, so I did my best.”

  Elijah nodded appreciatively before rubbing the back of his head as a rueful expression crossed his face. “That's great… but did you really have to hit me so damn hard?” he protested in a voice that sounded like he was a battered wife.

  Azeline snorted from the background, and with a light-hearted roll of her eyes, she quipped, “You’re lucky that’s all you got. A piece of trash like you deserves far more.”

  An incredulous grimace graced Elijah’s features as his head recoiled back in disbelief. He pointed emphatically to his chest with both hands before responding, “Bro, what? What the fuck did I do?” His tone was that of genuine bewilderment as he looked between the two girls, expecting an explanation. But neither Ferei nor Azeline had met his gaze. Instead, they had just simply chosen to walk on in silence as if the question had been lost to the morning bustle.

  With his hands still held out in a silent query, Elijah let out an exhausted sigh and closed his eyes as the confusion on his face deepened. And after a heavy shake of his head, he muttered a low, resigned “Women…” before stomping forward to catch up with them.

  The trio continued their trek further into town toward a nondescript public cafe that stood like a shoddy but modern oasis amidst Glennsworth’s downtown underbelly. Elijah couldn’t help but marvel at the establishment’s rather avant-garde air—a slice of contemporary luxury in a world he’d long assumed to be nothing more than a dystopian fantasy hellhole. Sure, many modern standards were absent here, but every so often, he was surprised to discover something reminiscent of home.

  But then he recalled Azeline’s bitter curses whenever it came to any amenities this town had. Uncouth and uncivilzied she called it. As Elijah looked around he couldn’t but agree, however, now that he thought about it, there existed a kind of analog to the comforts of from earth. I was vastly different from what he was used to, like how the water ran and how human waste was disposed of, but in essence it was all the same.

  It was too much longer until they approached their destination, and after noticing that, Elijah tapped both girls on the shoulder. “Alright, looks like the main show’s coming up,” he announced in a low and conspiratorial voice as they slowed their pace. “The boys and I got this place surrounded; if any trouble pops up, we’ve got you covered.” He continued as they scanned the cafe’s front.

  Then, with a pointed look that brooked no argument, he turned to Ferei. “Remember, we want that Imperial Officer, Jayda. You push for that as hard as you can for that bitch. This isn’t negotiable.” His tone shifted, becoming more tactical. “If you fail to secure that concession Hovem, then we’ll have to snatch that son of a bitch to force compliance.”

  Elijah looked at his watch that faced the bottom of his wrist before hitting a timer. “If you can’t get any traction, just stretch your arms in the air as you’re trying to pop your back—close your fist, extend your index and middle fingers into a V, and hold it up in the air.” He said as he looked to a few roof tops. “We’ll be watching and know what to do.”

  Ferei nodded nervously and breathed in deeply to harden her resolve just as Elijah slipped into the crowd. After a few moments, She and Azeline sped up and pushed onward toward the meeting spot. As they approached the cafe, the two girls hey saw Hovem seated outside, impatiently tapping his foot while idly sipping on some ambiguous beverage.

  Breaking through the throng of early morning shoppers, lurking brigandes, and sketchy merchants, Azeline and Ferei finally found themselves noticed by Hovem. However, what really gave Azeline pause was the kingpin's new guards. One of them—a dirty-blonde, bearded, bald man armed with a wicked-looking spear, spat harshly at the ground and let out an agitated sigh.

  “Shit… It really is that northern bitch…” he grumbled, his tone laced with both irritation and begrudging amusement. “Ya fackin’ better pay up good for this.”

  Not far away, the second guard, a duelist by the falchion and dagger sheathed at his hip, mirrored the foul expression. Brushing his dirty black hair from his eyes, the clean-shaven man gave the two girls a once-over before huffing in indignation. “Ain’t got no weapons though.” He said while rubbing the pommel of this sword. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Would life be a lot easier once we do ‘em in.”

  Every instinct in Ferei’s body screamed that they had just walked into a trap and instantly froze like a deer in the headlights. Her muscles began to tense as her body instinctively pulled away from the table, ready to bolt at any moment, especially when Ferei’s eyes darted between the two guards who were idly playing with their weapons. Something was terribly wrong—these weren't the typical cheap thugs Hovem usually hired. These men looked like real killers, seasoned Freelancers with the scars to prove it.

  Yet beside her, Azeline seemed completely unbothered by the obvious threat those men carried with them. The blonde strode forward with a casual air that bordered on insulting before pulling out a chair across from Hovem and settling into it as if she were merely joining an old friend for breakfast. Her posture remained relaxed, almost bored, as she surveyed the surroundings with disinterested eyes.

  Ferei, on the other hand, remained rooted at the edge of the cafe's perimeter. The poor woman’s legs refused to carry her any closer to what her gut insisted was certain death, but after a few moments, Azeline glanced over her shoulder. The blonde fixed Ferei with a look that managed to be both reassuring and chastising at the same time. Motioning to the empty chair beside her with a subtle tilt of her head, Azeline wore an expression that silently conveyed to Ferei that everything was going to be fine.

  Hovem lounged in his seat, one arm draped carelessly over the back of his chair, presenting a portrait of calculated nonchalance. His eyes, however, remained sharp and focused as they tracked Azeline's every move, reflecting the demeanor of a man who believed he had already won. Hovem didn’t actually think they’d show up, so when the two women finally appeared, the kingpin’s lips curled into a smug half-smile that nearly reached his eyes.

  "Ain't gonna run?" he drawled, swirling his beverage lazily. "Figured ya'd bolt the moment ya saw the boys."

  Azeline simply gave a dismissive shrug and yawned as if she was already bored. "I figured a rat-fuck like you would probably try to knife me at their earliest convenience because I bruised your…—" She made air quotes before throwing one leg over the other while leaning back comfortably in her chair. "—pathetic ego.”

  The woman then crossed her arms and glanced at the two Freelancers in the background with a somewhat impressed look. “I'm actually surprised you went out of your way to get the few assholes in this shithole that could take me. It's cute." Azeline added before her gaze swept across the bustling cafe.

  Almost as quickly as it came, Hovem’s smug demeanor crumbled. Especially when Azeline casually raised a hand to flag down one of the servers. The audacity of this woman to try an order something as if she were simply out to get breakfast with her friends caused the kingpin’s face to contort with rage as he leaned forward.

  "I was considerin' on lettin' ya live if ya became one of me whores," he snarled, slamming his fist on the table hard enough to send his drink sloshing over the rim of his cup. "But it seems I'd prefer stringin' yer guts across the street a lot more!" Spittle flew from his lips as his voice rose to a froth. "Ya gonna humiliate me!? In front of my people!? Ya not know who I work for?!"

  Just as his tirade reached its crescendo, a figure with cream-colored hair and cat-like ears deftly slipped through the morning crowd and into the last free chair at their table. With fluid grace that seemed almost choreographed, the newcomer draped her shapely legs over the arm of the chair and sat in a casual yet provocative posture.

  “My, my... what colorful language," Indi purred in a silky voice, kicking her legs giddily. The feline was once again dressed in a fashionable yet flexible outfit that hugged her skin, but this time, a long sidesword was strapped to her hip, and a long parrying dagger the size of her forearm nestled just above her rear, resting on the seat. "Is this how you greet all your business associates, or am I witnessing something special?"

  Indi’s sky-blue eyes batted bashfully at Hovem as if his murderous rage were nothing more than a mild social faux pas. Her catlike ears twitched with interest, rotating slightly to catch every sound around them, while her tail curled contentedly around the chair's leg.

  Hovem stared, flabbergasted, at the woman as if she had just sprouted a second head. His mouth hung open as rage turned to bewildered confusion, his eyes darting between Azeline and the strange, armed beastkin who seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Who in the hells is that?" he finally managed, jabbing a finger toward Indi while glaring accusingly at Azeline.