Lyro had been running for nearly ten minutes and found nothing.
He slowed at a corner, checked both directions, and saw only ordinary people going about their morning. But no percy was in sight .
"Goddess Damn "
"Where the bloody hell did he go to?"
He tried another street, looped back toward Marco, checked twice more. And eventually gave up and started back toward the Syndicate building, replaying the morning with diminishing enthusiasm.
"It's not what it looks like." That was what he had shouted, while still adjusting his coat.
He groaned quietly.
---
Fiona was at the counter when he came through the doors. Lyro slowed his pace and approached with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Hello. Good day, Fiona."
She looked up. "Good day to you too." She replied with a smile , which obviously was not genuine by the look of it.
"Phew. Safe for now i guess."
"Has Percy come by? The recruit?"
"The one you abandoned?" Fiona said.
"I didn't—"
"He came this morning and left shortly after," said the old man, without looking up from his documents.
Lyro nodded and retreated down the corridor before Fiona could add anything. In the Eclipse office he went straight to the filing cabinet and worked through the folders until he found one with his own handwriting across the front.
"Percy Valemont."
He opened it. The Eclipse registration fields were completely blank. He stared at the page for a moment.
"Did I actually register him?"
He thought back for a while .
"No." He closed the folder. "I definitely didn't."
He grabbed his coat and left.
---
Beningham Street was a short ride away. Lyro stepped off the carriage and turned toward the tailor shop, already planning what he would say about the registration, which just a way to make it up , his real intention was to explain himself and let percy keep his mouth shut.
He wasn't keen on letting his reputation tarnished at work due to a newbie, not to anyone and especially not to Fiona .
He would have to use his authority as a senior if he had to.
"Wait. Did he even officially join?"
He ran through the conversation he had with percy yesterday and remembered the handshake.
He shrugged. "The handshake probably counts."
He kept walking until the shop came into view and stopped.
The front windows were covered from the inside. Cloth pressed against the glass, blocking everything. The sign was up but was written close in it .
A normal closure looked different. This looked like someone had done it in a hurry.
Lyro was still forming the thought when a sharp crack split the morning open.
Bang!!
He was already moving before the echo died.
---
The shop erupted the moment Percy fired.
The man holding Silia went down hard, shoulder torn open, machete clattering across the floor as he twisted and fell. The sound that came out of him was more shock than pain.
Percy was on his feet instantly. "Silia. Come here. Now."
She was already moving, nearly stumbling on a fallen bolt of cloth. He caught her arm and pulled her behind him.
His breathing had gone ragged. Everything had been very calm a moment ago and now it absolutely was not.
His hands were shaking hard enough that he gripped the revolver tighter just to keep it steady. But his eyes were sharp and working fine.
Gareth had the nearest guard pinned to the floor before the echo of the shot had fully died, one knee in the man's back, arm locked across his throat.
He had moved the instant Percy raised the gun, like a man who had simply been waiting for a signal.
Gareth worked as a guard before he became a tailor which Percy had come to know of in one of their conversation, so Percy trusted him with this task.
The remaining three hadn't moved at all.
Guns did not appear in the hands of ordinary citizens here since it was strictly controlled by The Union Law Syndicate, making it almost impossible for even a policemen to get their hands on it.
These men had come in with blades and the confidence of people expecting nothing beyond noise and panic. A gun was the last thing they thought someone would have during their robbery.
Confidence had left them entirely. They were staring at Percy, then at their companion bleeding on the floor, then back at Percy. One had gone visibly pale. Another had already let his blade drop without seeming to notice.
"Kneel," Percy said.
They knelt. All three, one after another, there was no plan to resist it seemed .
Percy kept the revolver raised. As he tried to calm his breathing .
The shot replayed in his mind. He had aimed for the leg. But the bullet had struck the man's shoulder instead.
His eyes drifted toward the torn flesh and the blood spreading across the floor.
A cold sensation crawled up his spine.
"What if I had missed entirely?"
The distance hadn't been far and neither had Sillia. She had been right there.
"What the hell was I thinking?"
He had never fired at a living person before, nor had he aimed a weapon with someone's life hanging on the outcome.
And yet he had pulled the trigger as though he knew what he was doing.
The realization made him feel sick. Not because he had shot the robber. Because he now understood how easily that shot could have gone somewhere else.
His hand tightened around the revolver as his finger slowly moved away from the trigger .
"That was reckless and stupid."
"If I had hit Sillia instead...
The wounded man was trying to get up, one hand braced against the floor, face twisted.
He made it halfway before something connected hard with the back of his head and he dropped again.
Percy turned quickly.
Someone stood in the doorway holding the wooden brace from the entrance.
He had the revolver raised before his mind caught up with his hands. The moment he recognized the face he lowered it. His arm was still shaking.
"Beatrix!?"