Iron Fang did not announce itself loudly.
It did not need to.
By morning, everyone in the slums knew they were there. Not because of banners or horns, but because of absence. Empty doorways. Abandoned fires. Blood scrubbed hastily from stone that could never quite be cleaned.
Dominic noticed the pattern before anyone explained it.
The people who vanished were not random.
Young enough to work. Old enough to endure. Injured, but not broken. Strong backs. Desperate eyes.
Assets.
He watched from the edge of the courtyard as a small group of Iron Fang mercenaries moved through a nearby street. They were not rushing. They walked with the certainty of men who expected obedience.
Five of them.
Two in light armor. One with a chain collar device hanging openly from his belt. The others carried short spears designed for control rather than killing.
Slavers.
Lysa sat beside Dominic, her posture rigid. "They are closer today."
"Yes."
"They are mapping."
"Yes."
She swallowed. "That means they will return."
Dominic did not answer immediately. He tracked the mercenaries as they stopped at a junction and spoke briefly with a pair of local toughs. Coin changed hands. Information followed.
Control through cooperation.
Iron Fang did not conquer cities. It hollowed them out.
The mercenaries moved on.
Harn approached shortly after. His expression was tight, his ledger clutched under his arm like a shield.
"They are asking questions," he said quietly.
"About who," Dominic asked.
"Anyone who fights back."
Dominic nodded once. That was expected.
"They asked about you," Harn added.
Lysa stiffened.
Dominic remained still. "What did you say."
"That I do not know you," Harn replied. "That you arrived injured and useless."
Dominic met his gaze. "Thank you."
Harn snorted. "Do not thank me yet. They did not believe me."
"That is fair."
Harn hesitated. "They said they would observe."
Dominic almost smiled.
Observation was Iron Fang's favorite stage. It let them decide whether someone was worth the trouble.
He was not sure yet whether he wanted to be.
The day dragged on with oppressive slowness. The courtyard remained quiet. Too quiet. People avoided eye contact. No one argued. No one laughed.
Fear pressed down on the air like humidity before a storm.
Dominic worked anyway.
He hauled debris, repaired a broken barrier, helped reinforce a doorway with scrap wood. He did not hide his injuries. He did not display strength.
He made himself unremarkable.
By late afternoon, a boy was dragged into the courtyard.
Fourteen, maybe fifteen. Thin. Bruised. Breathing hard. An Iron Fang mercenary shoved him forward and let go.
The boy stumbled and fell.
"This one cannot walk straight," the mercenary said loudly. "Worthless."
The collar device jingled softly at his waist.
The courtyard stayed silent.
The mercenary's eyes swept the gathered people, lingering on faces. Measuring reactions.
Dominic felt the system presence sharpen.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Faction behavior analysis ongoing
Selection process detected
Observation priority elevated
The boy tried to stand. Failed. He looked around wildly.
"No," he said. "Please. I can work. I can carry. I can learn."
The mercenary kicked him in the ribs. Not hard enough to kill. Hard enough to break hope.
"No one here needs another mouth," the mercenary said. "Anyone want him."
No one moved.
The mercenary nodded and turned to leave.
Another Iron Fang member stepped forward and dragged the boy away.
The screams started seconds later, somewhere beyond the buildings.
Lysa's hands shook. She pressed them together to keep them still.
Dominic did not move.
He forced himself to listen.
The screams ended quickly.
The mercenaries left without another word.
The courtyard remained frozen long after they were gone.
Harn sank down against the wall, face gray. "They did that on purpose."
"Yes," Dominic said.
"To see who would object."
"Yes."
"To see who would hide."
"Yes."
Harn looked at him. "And you did nothing."
Dominic met his gaze. "If I had, they would have taken five instead of one."
Harn closed his eyes.
Night fell heavy and close.
Dominic did not sleep.
He watched the entrances. Counted patrol intervals. Memorized the sound of Iron Fang boots on stone. He noted how often they passed and how long they lingered.
They were narrowing options.
Near midnight, Lysa whispered, "They will take more tomorrow."
"Yes."
"They will take until there is nothing left."
"Yes."
She turned her head toward him. "Then why stay."
Dominic looked at the dark ceiling. "Because running now makes us obvious."
"That sounds like fear."
"It is calculation."
She studied him. "When do we run."
"When they decide," Dominic replied. "That I am worth keeping."
Lysa's breath caught. "You want them to choose you."
"I want to know how they choose."
Behind his eyes, the system presence stirred again.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Behavioral intent registered
Risk acceptance level: Elevated
Evaluation continues
Dominic leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
Iron Fang believed strength could be owned.
Dominic intended to learn exactly how much strength was required to make ownership impossible.
Tomorrow, someone else would disappear.
And if he waited too long, that someone might be him.
But if he moved too early, he would die in the streets.
This was the balance.
And Iron Fang had just placed its hand on the scale.