Night arrived and refused to leave.
The room felt smaller than usual—thick with ink, paper, and consequence. The contract lay open between us, its neat columns more threatening than any drawn blade.
"But it says right here there would be deductions," Dōngzhì said, leaning forward, finger pressing near the bottom of the page.
Examining as we were done with dinner.
"What? Let me see." Victoria shifted closer. The paper rustled under nervous hands.
At the top, in bureaucratic precision:
Concord Operative & Clerk Deduction Stack
Administrative / Infrastructure: 5–10%
Maintains HQs, liaison offices, airships, artifact storage, clerical support. Higher in regions with elevated anomalous activity.
Insurance / Hazard Fund: 5%
Life, injury, anomalous exposure coverage. Includes medical, psychological, magical rehabilitation. Rarely refunded if deceased.
Mandatory Retirement / Pension: 10%
Long-term fund for retirement or family support in the event of death. Vesting period varies.
Vestment Lock: 10%
Held to prevent mid-career resignation. Released gradually through service milestones.
"Vestment lock?" Victoria breathed, scanning again as if the words might soften.
I leaned closer to my copy.
Below that:
Local Tax: 10%
Paid to the host nation. Keeps Concord HQ legally tolerated under treaty agreements.
"So the government gets its slice," I murmured.
More lines followed.
Artifact / Equipment Maintenance Levy: 2–5%
Upkeep of gear, containment devices, regulators, vehicles.
Field Operations Recovery Fee: 2–5%
Debriefing, medical checks, repairs, temporary lodging.
Training & Certification Fund: 1–3%
Annual drills, combat simulations, arcane testing.
At the bottom:
Approximate Total Deduction
Operatives: ~45–50%
Clerks / HQ staff: ~35–40%
Gross Pay – Deductions = Net Pay (distributed quarterly or annually in CU).
Silence.
"And that means," Danpung said casually, peeling an orange with surgical calm, "if you're supposedly getting 60,000 CU… you'll walk away with maybe 24,000."
"That's assuming you're even getting sixty," Dōngzhì added, stealing a slice.
"Unlikely."
Victoria had gone pale.
Not dramatic pale.
Contract pale.
I closed my copy slowly. Other details caught my attention—the comfort of the word indefinite, the quiet weight of certain clauses—but nothing we could undo tonight.
"Seems you just sold yourself," Dōngzhì murmured.
"It was that," Victoria said quietly, "or whatever the police had planned."
No one argued.
"When do you report?" Danpung asked, offering me a slice.
"Next week. We use the weekend to settle in," I said. "Zhōngchéng Zhōu's capital. Hǎi'àn."
The room stilled.
Even Danpung stopped chewing.
"Then you leave in the morning," Dōngzhì said softly. Her tail brushed the floor in restless arcs.
"Morning?" Victoria checked the clock. "9:47 ."
Time had moved without asking.
"You'll be fine," Danpung said. "Even Mr. Mumeishi approved it. Though," she added, pointed, "you were reckless."
Victoria winced.
"Breathe," Dōngzhì said, rubbing her back. "You'll be fine."
Then to me: "You too, Heiwa. Not the same—but this may be good."
She reached to pat my head.
Paused.
Committed.
Her tail slowed.
"I'll make tea. You both need sleep."
At the doorway she added, "Wake early. Say goodbye to Hazel and Zinnia properly."
"You two better request leave in advance so you can visit," Danpung said, standing amid an orange-peel battlefield.
Dōngzhì returned with tea. Stopped.
Looked at Danpung.
Looked at the peels.
Then back at Danpung.
"Drink your tea," she said smoothly. "And bathe."
---
We packed in quiet.
Clothes folded into the travel cases Miss Lakshmi had gifted us—sturdy, polished, hopeful.
Excitement was absent.
Moonlight did most of the talking.
Victoria lay with her back to me.
"I thought it was better than whatever that woman had planned," she murmured.
I lifted my hand to comfort her. Hesitated.
"My rash decisions keep causing trouble," she said, voice thinning.
Silence pressed in.
"If you hadn't asked for me," I said carefully, "I would have asked myself."
She shifted slightly.
"We fought a war for free," I added softly. "Now we're getting paid."
A weak laugh escaped her.
I wrapped my arms around her.
"You still have me," I said. "We still have us."
She turned. Moonlight rested across her face.
She didn't answer.
She just moved closer.
The room settled into steady breathing, soft sheets, and the fragile calm before a new life begins.
---