Sunset poured crimson over the eastern marketplace.
Aiden slipped between stalls, quiet-like - his armor swapped for a drab tunic, hood pulled down, book held tight against his side. Smell hit hard: rotting fish, body heat, old metal left out in rain. Sellers shouted from wagons, pushing blades at passersby, words slicing through the noisy crush.
Holt's command was sharp - get everything: every name, every path, every flow of cash.
Perfect cover.
He paused by the third stand - Iron Fang Armory, boxes marked with east wall tags. The guy running it, short and thickset with greasy black hair, was arguing prices with two people in hoods. Aiden hung back, glancing over logbooks spread out on the table.
Familiar digits. Plus, Lorne's fake autograph.
The guy saw him. "Hey there - what'll you have?"
Inventory review," Aiden stated dryly, holding up Holt's signed papers. "Every document. Right away
The man stopped smiling. As he flipped through pages, his hands were damp, grumbling something about tax troubles. Aiden wrote things down quickly - dates here, amounts there, messengers listed below. Certain names got rings around them: Mira the Mule. Then Kess the Knife.
Black market runners.
A dark shape moved over the page. A figure in a cloak edged nearer, their breath stinking. This here's none of your concern
Aiden kept his eyes down. "Not now."
The guy seized his wrist - tight, harsh. Hands were worn, tough from work. A streetwise hold.
Crowded sounds died down. Yet tightness built up.
Check from Holt? Maybe a crook's grip?
Aiden slipped away without effort, pressing the guy's arm down hard on the countertop. You could hear bones strain. The attacker let out a sharp breath.
"Touch me again," Aiden said quietly, "and Holt learns your face first."
The name fell heavy, sudden. He went white - jerked loose - slipped away through people.
The owner swallowed. "You... you work close with the captain?"
"Close enough." Aiden closed the ledger. "Mira the Mule. Where does she run?"
The guy paused. Then Aiden moved closer - eyes light, fixed. Not looking away.
"Old mill road. Nights. Don't tell her I - "
Aiden had left by then.
Night took over the old mill path. No moon. Ideal for Shadow Bind.
Aiden hunkered down where the dark pooled, keeping still. Boots scraped close - pair of shapes, a squeaky cart tagging along. Mira, called the Mule: thin build, slash-mark on her mouth. Kess, known as the Knife: jumpy type, steel strapped to his side.
Shiny arrows sat packed inside wooden boxes. That was Holt's lost stash.
Timing.
He whispered, "[Shadow Bind]."
Shadows crawled near the ground. Ghostly links shot out - wrapping legs, choking cries. Just five seconds left.
Aiden moved.
First up: Kess. Her throat got smashed even before the blade left its cover. Then her frame just dropped - no noise. All still after that.
Next up - Mira. Her eyes popped open just as the Grave's grip dragged her under. A sharp breath caught in her throat. That was it.
[Ding.]
[Foes taken down. XP gained - fifty points added.]
[Stealth Kill Bonus: +20 Resentment.]
He flipped through the cart - lists appeared. Names showed up. Contact linked to Seris? That was Varn, known as the Shadow.
Seris.
Her network passed info to Holt's crew. While wedding guns were locked down.
Aiden burned the cart down. Fire flickered along the path while he slipped into the woods.
Back at barracks, dawn breaking, Rowan waited in stables shadows.
"See something?" the kid murmured.
"Threads," Aiden said. "Pull one, the web shakes."
Rowan grinned. "Holt still trust you?"
"More than yesterday."
The System chimed.
[Ding.]
[Quest Complete: Supplier Audit.]
Growing stronger! From level 3 to level 4
New ability: Shadow Dash (passive). Moves quicker when hidden - about one-fifth speed boost in dark spots
Holt's trust means you can get in.
Access means danger you can't see coming.
Seris' wedding approached.
Her web'd go up in flames before anything else.
The corpse held a map he'd kept.
Let's let go now.