---
One was a thick-necked beastkin with a shaved head and iron rings in his ears. The other was a slender human with a tattoo running up his neck like a snake.
They blocked the door with bored posture.
Sekhmet approached.
The tattooed man lifted a lantern and squinted at him.
"What do you want," he asked.
Sekhmet's voice was calm.
"Underground market."
The beastkin snorted.
"Everyone wants the underground," he said. "Question is, do you belong."
Sekhmet did not answer with words.
He let a fraction of his chaos pressure slip out.
Just a fraction.
Not enough to crush.
Enough to warn.
The air around him tightened.
The lantern flame flickered.
Fzz…
The beastkin's face shifted.
His bravado hesitated.
He was strong enough to bully normal people, but he could feel the difference between a bully and a predator.
The tattooed man swallowed.
He forced a grin.
"Alright, alright," he said quickly. "No need to glare like that, friend. Rules are rules."
