The morning after the tavern incident, the dark figure was the last to wake. She groaned, rubbing her temples, her expression caught somewhere between exhaustion and irritation.
"Why did I drink so much…"
She muttered.
I tossed her a bottle of water. She caught it sluggishly, glaring at it like she expected it to bite her before taking a cautious sip.
The blonde-haired girl was already dressed, stretching her arms with a satisfied yawn.
"Fun night, huh?"
The dark figure shot her a look.
"You call that fun?"
"Of course. You, not so much?"
She scoffed but didn't answer. Instead, her gaze wandered toward Arwik. He sat near the window, lost in thought. He had barely spoken since we returned. The weight of what he had become—what he had taken—hung over him like a storm cloud.
Before the silence could settle too deeply, a knock came at the door.
A mercenary from the MRC stood outside, arms crossed.
"Got work for you. Pays well."
The blonde-haired girl raised a brow.
"And the catch?"
"Dangerous, obviously. You interested?"
Arwik didn't react. He hadn't reacted to much since we got back. I sighed and nodded.
"We'll hear it out."
The mercenary gave a short nod and left. As I strapped my belt on, I felt eyes on me.
The dark figure was watching, head tilted slightly, unreadable.
"What?"
I asked.
"You're going on another job so soon? Do you people ever stop?"
"That's how we survive."
I tightened my belt.
She leaned back against the wall, exhaling through her nose.
"How fragile your lives must be if you spend them running toward death just to keep living."
"Says the one who tried to kill us,"
The blonde-haired girl quipped.
The dark figure smirked at that, but it faded quickly. She was quiet for a moment, then, in a lower voice, said,
"I have nowhere else to go."
I glanced at her.
"You're saying you want to come?"
She shifted, crossing her arms.
"Don't get me wrong. I'm not here to make friends. But until I figure out my next move, I may as well see how you mortals survive."
I looked at Arwik. He didn't object. He barely seemed present.
"Fine,"
I said.
"But don't expect us to trust you yet."
She just smirked.
"I wouldn't expect anything else."
And with that, she was coming with us. Whether it was a mistake or not, time would tell.
The MRC building loomed ahead, its stone walls stained by time and smoke. Mercenaries moved in and out, some covered in fresh wounds, others laughing over cheap drinks even this early in the day.
Sir Denis greeted us at the entrance, his expression unusually tense. He rushed us into a back room.
"Look, I don't have much time to explain, but you're going to meet the boss."
His tone was grave.
Beyond the door, a tall, broad-shouldered man sat in a chair. A white mask, striped with black lines, covered his face. His voice was rough, each word edged with something unreadable.
"You must be here for the mission."
I nodded.
His gaze flicked toward the dark figure.
"I was told you were a team of three. Was I mistaken?"
I was about to explain when she cut me off.
"Oh, I'm part of the team, alright. I'm even the strongest."
Arwik, who was the strongest, remained silent.
The masked man let out a low chuckle.
"Alright. Not like it matters."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"Look, we don't usually handpick people for missions. But this one is different."
He lifted his mask slightly, just enough to take a bite of fruit before continuing.
"I heard that you guys are strong… and, more importantly, no one knows you outside of the MRC."
We didn't speak. We just waited.
"Let's not waste time. I've got an assassination request. A lot of people want Harvent Ros dead."
The blonde-haired girl scoffed.
"You want us to get rid of Harvent? Might as well kill us here and now."
"I understand your concern. Harvent is untouchable in his manor. Guarded, fortified, and dangerous. But we have an opportunity."
His fingers tapped lightly against the wooden table.
"Three killers I hired managed to capture something. A monster. Not just any beast—a damn calamity waiting to happen."
That got my attention.
"What kind of monster?"
He exhaled through his nose.
"A corpseborn."
Silence.
The blonde-haired girl tensed. Even the dark figure narrowed her eyes.
"You captured a corpseborn?"
She asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.
The masked man nodded.
"We've kept it barely alive, just enough to let it loose inside the manor. The moment it wakes up, it'll tear through everything in its path. No one will be thinking about intruders. That's when you go in and make sure Harvent dies."
I glanced at Arwik. He hadn't moved, but something in his eyes darkened.
"Do we have a choice?"
I asked.
The masked man chuckled.
"Everyone has a choice. But tell me—how often do mercenaries get the chance to change a kingdom?"
I said nothing.
The dark figure crossed her arms, glancing at us.
"I don't care about your politics. But I'd like to see this thing up close."
Of course she would.
"Then it's settled,"
The masked man said.
"I'll give you the details soon. For now, get some rest. You'll need it."
And so, the mission had been set
An assassination—coordinated chaos. The four of us would slip into the manor while the monster rampaged through the front. A simple plan, on paper. But nothing ever went as planned.
That night, as we prepared, the air felt different. Heavier.
The blonde-haired girl sat on the rooftop beside me, boots dangling over the edge, the city stretching beneath us. Her eyes reflected the glow of the lamps below, shimmering with something distant.
"You ever think about what comes after this?"
She asked.
I leaned back, resting my hands against the cool stone.
"After this job?"
"No. After… all of it."
She exhaled, tilting her head toward the sky.
"People like us don't get a peaceful ending. We just keep moving, keep killing, until one day it catches up."
Her words lingered, a weight settling in my chest.
I wanted to say something—something to challenge her, to reassure her—but I had nothing. Because she was right.
Instead, I asked,
"And what would you do, if it didn't catch up?"
She laughed softly.
"I dunno. Maybe I'd get a farm. Live like a normal person."
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.
"You? A farmer?"
"Shut up,"
She nudged me with her elbow.
"I could do it."
The thought of her, away from all of this, made me realize something—I didn't want her to die in this life. Maybe I didn't want to die in it either.
Below, through the dim glow of the street lanterns, I saw Arwik and the dark figure. They stood close, speaking in low voices. I couldn't hear the words, but I didn't need to.
She wasn't tied up anymore. She hadn't been for a while. And Arwik—who should have been more cautious, more distant—stood beside her as if they weren't meant to be enemies at all.
The way she looked at him… it wasn't just calculation.
I turned my gaze back to the girl beside me. She caught my stare, then gave a small grin.
"What?"
I shook my head.
"Nothing."
Because it didn't matter, did it? By tomorrow, we'd be covered in blood again. And whatever this moment was—whatever the four of us had become—it wouldn't last.
It never did.