Word of Tim's defiance spread fast through Villian Ville.
Everyone knew he was recruiting. Everyone knew he had declared war against Nomerci by daring to form the Tidam Alliance.
And everyone avoided him like plague.
Merchants turned away when he passed. Fighters found sudden excuses to leave when he asked about joining. Nobody wanted to stand beside the man who openly vowed to kill Jenny, the Queen of Nomerci.
Fear ruled the streets, and Tim wore that rejection like a cloak.
That night, survival demanded blood. The bells tolled, night fell, and the killing hour began.
Tim moved through the alleys with his knife, his steps cold, his breath steady. It was routine now: find prey before dawn, or vanish with the sunrise.
Screams echoed from a nearby street. A girl, cornered by two men, their blades glinting, their grins hungry.
Tim didn't hesitate.
The first man's throat opened under his blade before he even turned. The second barely raised his knife before Tim drove steel through his chest. Both dropped in pools of blood, steam rising as the night swallowed them.
The girl was left trembling against the wall.
She was young, maybe early twenties, with a slim, curvy body that looked out of place in the filth of the Ville. Her chest was round and perky beneath her torn blouse, her cleavage peeking through the rip as if daring the night to notice. Her waist was tight, hips flaring smoothly into a soft, heart-shaped ass that filled her skirt even as the fabric clung with dirt. Bare legs showed long and pale, trembling but firm.
Her hair was messy, her lips split, but her wide brown eyes lit with gratitude when they landed on him.
"You… you saved me," she whispered. Her voice was soft, almost kitten-like, quivering with both fear and relief. She stepped closer, clutching his arm, her chest pressing against him. "I don't have anyone left. I'll do anything for you. Even… even that."
Her gaze dropped shyly, her meaning obvious.
Tim's jaw clenched. For a moment, Jenny's mocking smirk flickered in his memory — how she had used his body, twisted his desire against him. He tore himself free of the thought, shaking his head.
"No," he said firmly. "That's not what I want."
Amy's lips trembled, but her eyes never left him. "Then let me stay with you. Please. I've nowhere else to go."
She clung to him like a stray kitten desperate for warmth. And no matter how much he wanted to push her away, her small frame and trembling hands pulled at something inside him.
"You don't understand," Tim said, voice low. "If you join me, you'll be in danger every day. Jenny won't stop until she crushes us."
The girl looked up, her eyes steady despite the tremor in her voice. "Then let her. I'm not afraid."
Tim stared at her. Fragile on the outside, fearless in the face of death. Slowly, he gave a small nod. "Fine. But the choice is yours. Once you're in, there's no turning back."
Her lips curved faintly. "Then I'm in."
Her name was Amy.
That night, when they returned to the alliance's hideout, Tim finally allowed himself to sleep. But when dawn crept over Villian Ville, he awoke to find Amy curled against him on his bed. Her face was pressed to his chest, her soft breasts rising and falling with each slow breath. One of her legs was slung across his, her hips pressing close, her ass snug against him like she had claimed his body as her pillow.
She hadn't asked. She had simply climbed into his bed like she belonged there, clinging to him with the stubbornness of a kitten that refused to be left behind.
Tim should have pushed her away. But exhaustion drowned him, and for the first time in weeks, his sleep was deep and undisturbed.
By the time the sun set and the next night began, Amy was still there, blinking up at him with wide brown eyes, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
On the surface, she looked harmless — the rescued girl, innocent and needy, with soft curves that made her look like prey. But Tim wasn't blind. Beneath that sweetness was something else. A flicker in her gaze, a sharpness in her smile.
Amy might play the role of the lost kitten. But behind it was loyalty sharper than steel.
Tidam Alliance had its third member: Amy, the innocent swindler — a girl who pretended to be fragile, but whose devotion to her master was absolute.