I looked at the hooded man. My thumb hitched over the hammer of my flintlock. It was a habit. A dirty, life-saving habit. The morning air was biting my face, and I really just wanted a bowl of spicy noodles and a dark corner to sleep in. Instead, I had this rat-faced messenger talking about the Governor and a "Black Pit."
"The Governor is a busy man," I said. I spat on the gravel path. "Why me? There are plenty of shiny knights in this city who love dying for a medal."
The messenger stepped forward. The light hit his face. He looked tired. Like he hadn't slept since the kingdom was founded. "The knights are afraid of what doesn't bleed, Chaiyo. You? You just want to get paid."
He was right. I didn't care about the monsters. I didn't care about the "evil" they represented. A target is just a target.
"Double, you said?" I asked.
"Double. And a pardon for that little stunt you pulled in the North three years ago."
I narrowed my eyes. He knew too much. That mess in the North was supposed to be buried. I felt a surge of genuine annoyance. I hated it when people used my past like a leash.
"Tell the Governor I'll be at the tavern," I muttered. "If he wants to talk, he can send the gold first. I don't work on promises."
I pushed past him. My shoulder hit his hard, but he didn't move. He just stood there like a grave marker. I walked out of the estate gates and headed toward the lower district of Thonburi.
The streets were starting to fill with people. Vendors, monks, workers. They all looked the same—gray, tired, and moving toward a day they wouldn't remember. I felt like a ghost among them. A ghost with a heavy gun and Malai's heat still lingering on my skin.
I reached the tavern, 'The Broken Spire.' It was a dump. I loved it. I walked in, and the sound of low voices and clinking glass felt like home. I saw an old contact, Sopa, sitting in the back. She was a fixer. If you wanted to know which dungeon was spitting out gold and which was spitting out death, you asked her.
"You look like you've been busy," Sopa said. She didn't look up from her drink.
"I've been working," I said, sliding into the seat opposite her.
"In a bedroom or a cave?" She finally looked up. Her eyes were sharp, calculating.
"Both," I said. I signaled the barkeep for a drink. "What do you know about the Black Pit?"
Sopa's expression changed. The playfulness vanished. She leaned in, her face inches from mine. "Don't go there, Chaiyo. Not for any amount of gold. People don't just die in there. They disappear. Even the memories of them fade away."
I felt a chill. Not the kind from the wind. The kind that comes when you realize the world is bigger and nastier than you thought. I gripped my glass.
"The Governor is offering double," I said.
"The Governor is a desperate man," Sopa whispered. "His debts are catching up to him. He's not looking for a hero. He's looking for a sacrifice."
I thought about Malai. The way she held onto me like I was her only anchor. Was she part of the trap? Or was she just another thing the Governor was losing? I felt a sudden, dark weight in my gut. I wasn't just a mercenary anymore. I was a player in a game I didn't understand.
I looked at the amber liquid in my glass. It wasn't clean, but it was strong. I felt a headache starting to form behind my eyes. Every time I get close to a noble woman, it ends in blood or a dungeon. This time, it looked like it was going to be both.
"If I don't go, he'll send someone else," I said. "And if he's desperate, he'll eventually come for me anyway. At least this way, I get paid before the world ends."
Sopa sighed. She reached out and touched my hand. Her skin was rough, a stark difference from Malai's. "You always think you can shoot your way out of everything, Chaiyo. But you can't shoot a curse. You can't shoot a debt."
"Watch me," I muttered.
I finished my drink and stood up. My knees popped. I felt every year of this life in my joints. I walked toward the door, feeling the eyes of the other patrons on my back. They knew. They could smell the trouble on me.
I stepped out into the street. The sun was higher now, but the shadows felt longer. I started walking toward the Governor's palace. Not as a guest, and not as a lover. I was walking there as a tool. A tool that was about to be used until it broke.
The Black Pit was waiting. And somewhere in that palace, Malai was probably looking out a window, wondering if I'd ever come back. I touched the cold wood of my gun.
"Don't worry," I whispered to the weapon. "You're the only friend I need."