There was no warning. No shadow across the cobblestones. No footsteps behind him.
Just pain. Blunt. Sharp. Sudden.
The dagger caught him under the ribs — not deep, but enough to tear cloth and skin. Alex stumbled forward into a trash pile, the iron tang of blood in his nose, his mind already snapping into calculation.
He didn't scream. Didn't panic.
He turned.
Three men stood at the mouth of the alley. Dirty cloaks. Scarves hiding their faces. Not thieves. Not drunk.
Killers.
One stepped forward. "Boy's been sniffing too deep," he said. "Magister Vorn doesn't like nosy rats."
Alex recognized the name. Vorn — rival to Silco. Controlled grain flow and backdoor opium trades. Brutal. Paranoid. Known for silencing threats before they became public.
He'd moved too fast. Too many eyes watching. Too many ears listening. And now, Vorn had decided to cut out the tongue before it started speaking.
Alex breathed slowly. His hand pressed against his side. The wound wasn't deep. Just messy. He could still stand. Still move.
Still kill.
He looked up at the three.
Then activated traits.
Brutal Strength – ON (4/10)
Quick Bind – ON (4/10)
Pain Resistance – ON (2/10)
Canine Command – ON (3/10)
Balanced Footing – ON (5/10)
A soft whistle left his lips.
Behind the crates, two dogs rose from shadow — eyes glowing, teeth bared, silent and deadly.
The men didn't notice at first. They advanced.
"Drop your purse. We might make it fast," the middle one said.
Alex replied without words.
He moved. Low. Fast. Left foot pivot, knee bent, forward lunge — Balanced Footing kept him steady. The man closest to him didn't expect it.
Alex slammed his elbow into the man's throat, then spun behind him, looped the rope from his belt, and pulled.
Quick Bind – Use Registered (5/10)
The rope tightened perfectly — locking around the man's neck. He struggled. Clawed. Choked.
Alex didn't stop.
He yanked the man between himself and the second attacker, using him as a shield. The second's blade dug into his own ally's side.
Mistake.
The dogs launched.
One bit into the third man's calf. The other latched onto his wrist. He screamed — high and raw. Tried to stab downward. Failed.
The third man was the last to move. Too late.
Alex drove his palm into the man's jaw, then grabbed his knife hand, twisted, and used Brutal Strength to force the blade into the attacker's thigh.
Blood sprayed. The man fell.
Alex finished the one he'd choked — silent, steady. No flourish. Just death.
When it was over, three bodies lay bleeding on the stone.
His dogs growled low, teeth still bared.
Alex breathed in the blood and the smoke and the wetness of the alley. His wound burned. But his mind was still.
Focused.
System Log: ✔ Brutal Strength (5/10) ✔ Quick Bind (5/10) ✔ Balanced Footing (5/10) ✔ Pain Resistance (2/10) ✔ Canine Command (4/10)
He checked the corpses quickly. Pouches. Coins. One note, sealed with wax — a crude command: "The boy from the docks. Quietly. Leave no head."
He pocketed it.
Proof. Not for police. There were no courts for people like him.
But someone needed to see it.
He whistled again. The dogs followed.
He didn't return to his loft.
Instead, he went straight to Tregar's hideout, pushing past guards without a word, walking into the back room where Tregar and two others sat over a dice table.
They looked up — startled.
Blood on his hands. Blood on his tunic.
One of the dogs barked.
Alex tossed the wax-sealed note onto the table.
Tregar didn't speak.
He read it. Then looked at Alex differently — like one might look at a loaded crossbow aimed at the floor.
"You handled it."
Alex nodded.
Tregar leaned back. "Vorn sends his dogs to test you... and three of his dogs don't come back."
"They picked the wrong alley."
"What now?"
"Tell Silco."
"You think he'll care?"
"I think he will now."
Tregar didn't argue.
The next morning, Alex was summoned.
Silco's eyes studied him over the rim of a golden goblet.
He didn't speak for the first minute. Just watched.
Alex stood still. Wound bandaged. Dogs waiting outside the estate gate.
Finally, Silco exhaled.
"You killed them."
"Yes."
"First blood?"
"Yes."
"Clean?"
"Fast."
Silco nodded. "Then welcome to politics."
He stood, walked to the window.
"You showed restraint before. That made you useful. You showed force now. That makes you dangerous. Know what happens when a man is both?"
Alex waited.
Silco turned. "He rises. Or dies."
A pause.
"But I like my odds on you."
That afternoon, Alex received his first named position.
No more messenger. No more shadow runner.
He was now "Handler" — managing sensitive deliveries, information exchanges, and quiet operations between Silco's agents and his city contacts.
No ceremony. No applause.
Just access.
Which meant more targets. More touches. More traits.
Back in the loft, he fed his dogs, cleaned his wound, then opened the Archive.
System Report:
Brutal Strength (Level 0 – 5/10) → Next Level at 10 uses.
Quick Bind (5/10)
Balanced Footing (5/10)
Canine Command (4/10)
Scholar's Insight (1/10)
Pain Resistance (2/10)
He was halfway to evolving his first Level 1 trait.
Once he crossed that threshold, the trait would expand. Stronger. Longer duration. Possibly new effects.
He picked Brutal Strength to train next.
He needed more power for when silence wouldn't be enough.
Because tonight proved something vital:
In Pentos, even the clever needed to kill.