Naaza stood before the front shelf, notebook in hand, pencil scratching against paper. She took another glance at the assorted vials, her lips pursing.
She reached for a health potion on the second row, tilting it towards the light. The liquid inside had darkened, taking on a murky brown tinge that spread around like thin tendrils of rot.
Her pencil moved across the page, marking it down.
She set the potion aside and grabbed another one, her frown deepening as she turned it around in her hand. The same discoloration crept along the bottom of the vial, a little subtler but still there.
Her shoulders dropped with a sigh.
More money down the drain…
She placed the potion back on the shelf, her hand lingering on the bottle. Her frown deepened, eyes flickering between the counter and the potion. She could still sell this one if someone came today—
No. She gave a slow shake of her head, her fingers clenching around the glass.
She didn't have to go that far anymore, did she?
Sighing again, she took the potion and shoved it inside her pocket. Her gaze went back to the shelf, and she picked up her pencil, tapping it to paper. Her eyes skimmed through the potions when a sudden, familiar creak of hinges stretched across the room.
Her ears perked, head swiveling around. She set the notebook down on the counter and smoothed over the front of her shirt as she turned towards the entrance, a polite greeting forming on her lips.
A customer this early? Perhaps today would turn out better than she thought—
Jack emerged from the doorway that led deeper into the house, dressed in his casual wear rather than armor. His shirt was crinkled and sat higher on one shoulder, like he'd just rolled out of bed, and he still had that light stubble from last night along his jaw.
Her expression flattened.
He's still here?
"Taking a break today?" she spoke, voice dry as old parchment.
Hopefully not to burn through even more of their supplies with gods-knew-what crazy experiment…
"Nah." Jack shook his head, that familiar grin spreading across his face as he approached her with his usual swagger. "Ravi's busy with Familia stuff, so I'm not in a hurry."
"I see."
Jack stopped in front of the counter, propping his left hand on top of it. "I need your help with something."
Naaza arched a brow, head tilting slightly. She said nothing, her tail swishing once behind her.
"I want to test that Stoneflesh potion," he said, patting the brown pouch at his waist. The cloth made a soft rustling sound, and she could see the outline of a vial through the fabric.
"Haven't you done that already?"
"Only against magic backlash." He shrugged, and a sheepish smile crept onto his face as his gaze darted briefly to the side. "I kinda got carried away and forgot to test everything."
Naaza blinked, the words echoing in her head. She stared at Jack, her brows inching closer. "You forgot?" With a potion that cost to make more than the average adventurer made in a whole week?
How irresponsible could he get—
"I'll cover the cost, don't worry."
"That's not the point," she said, glare boring into him like an arrow finding its mark. "You shouldn't be wasteful just because you can afford it now."
Jack's shoulders tensed, smile fading away from his face. He held her gaze for a moment, jaw working silent. "I know. I'll be more careful."
Naaza pushed a tired breath through her nose, lips parting a fraction before they pressed into a tense line.
Whatever. It was his money to waste. If he wanted to throw it away like that, it wasn't her problem.
"So," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "What exactly do you need me for? I want to finish the inventory before Lord Miach returns."
Another day, another round of charity. He'd better not start giving away more potions just because Jack helped ease the burden on their pocket.
"Oh, it won't take long." Jack swept a hand in a slow, dismissive wave, that grin returning to his face like it had never left. "I just want you to shoot me with an arrow."
The words hung in the air, so absurd that for a few heartbeats she could only stare. Then her gaze narrowed, mouth settling into a flat, thin line. "I see you've gone completely insane."
The smile on Jack's face dimmed, and he gave a slow, exaggerated shake of his head as he exhaled a heavy sigh. "And here I thought you'd understand my brilliance."
Her brows rose a fraction. Brilliance?
"I understand that you want me to shoot you with arrows." A level two.
Did he go mad from spending too much time in that hellish pit?
"The potion should protect me."
She cocked her head, brows climbing all the way across her forehead. "Should?"
Jack merely shrugged. "I'm pretty sure it works the way I think it does."
Very reassuring.
"So?" Jack spoke again, tilting his head with another easygoing smile. "Can you help me?"
Naaza studied him for a long moment, her tail sweeping a slow arc behind her. This was stupid. Highly so. But it should teach him a lesson if this failed.
And Lord Miach had already left, so…
This should be fine.
Naaza lowered her arms with a sigh and stepped out from behind the counter. "Let me grab my bow."
__________________________________________
Naaza stood behind the pharmacy, her bow gripped loosely in her fake hand. The sun warmed her back, throwing tall shadows across the packed dirt and the weathered stone walls. Jack took a few steps back across from her, stopping in front of the target practice box, that silly grin still plastered on his face.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked one last time, her voice flat.
"One billion percent." He flashed her a thumbs-up, and she couldn't help but give a slow shake of her head.
What a reckless man.
"Suit yourself." She shifted her grip, fingers finding the familiar grooves worn into the old wood. The arrow settled against the string with a quiet whisper. "It'll cost you three thousand if you want me to patch you up."
"Aye aye, captain. Let's do this."
Jack reached into his pouch, fingers emerging with a vial filled with dark liquid. He uncorked it with his thumb and brought it to his lips before tipping it back in one smooth motion.
His skin shifted like a creeping oil stain on water, the peach tan fading to something paler, close to an ash gray. He dumped the empty flask into a pocket, the muscles in his arms rippling with a metallic gleam. His hands settled back on his hips, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he stood there, looking like sculpted out of Mithril.
But was he truly just as tough?
She raised her bow, drawing the string back in one fluid motion. Jack struck one of those flamboyant poses, something ridiculous with his hands angled in front of his face, fingers splayed like he was posing for some heroic painting, and grinned.
She rolled her eyes at the silly display and breathed in, slow and deep while adjusting her aim. The arrowhead edged up a celch, centering on his upper arm, just above the bicep.
That wouldn't hurt too much if this failed. And an injury in that area would heal easily even with just a few normal potions.
"Ready when you are, cap'n!"
She exhaled, fingers releasing in the same heartbeat.
The arrow zipped through the air with a soft whistle. It struck Jack with a sharp crack and just bounced off, clattering against the alley wall, arrowhead bent from the impact.
Naaza's brows rose a fraction.
Tougher than iron and stone, at least.
"Nice!" Jack flexed, and a grin broke across his bleached face, teeth flashing white against the silver sheen. "Not even a scratch."
Her eyes flickered back to his arm, studying the exposed skin. There wasn't a single blemish. No indent, no discoloration. Nothing but gleaming muscle reflecting the sun like polished armor.
Impressive.
"There you go," she said, lowering her bow.
Time to go back inside and finish her work—
"Wait, one more thing." Jack straightened himself, rolling his shoulders like a brawler preparing for a fight.
"What?"
"Can you punch me?"
She blinked, staring at him for a moment. Her tail perked, swishing in a quick arc as her eyes narrowed.
Tempting. All too tempting.
"You want me to punch you?" she asked, arching a brow.
He gave an eager nod, that idiotic smile widening across his face. "With your normal arm."
Of course she'd use that one. The fake one would go right through him, potion or no potion. That thing could crush Mithril like dry soil.
Sighing, Naaza walked over to the nearby wooden crate and set her bow down carefully. She rolled her good wrist a few times and approached Jack, footsteps quiet against the packed dirt.
He spread his arms wide as if waiting for a hug, that grin still plastered across his gleaming face. She stopped in front of him, close enough to see her reflection warped in the silvery sheen of his skin. Her gaze met his, and his smile widened further, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
The corner of Naaza's mouth twitched.
"Remember, you asked for it."
"Don't forget to put your back into it, cappy."
The smirk slipped off her lips as fast as it came, her eyes narrowing to slits.
She'd wipe that smug look off his face. Maybe then, it'd finally sink into his thick skull that this wasn't a game.
Her foot slid back, the weight shifting to her rear leg. Her hips twisted, and she fell into a loose stance, the movement coming back to her like memories of an old friend. She pulled her arm back, fingers curling into a tight fist. Her muscles tensed, coiling like springs, and then she punched.
Her fist buried in his gut with all the force she could muster, the impact jarring up her arm. The flesh barely gave way, like hitting a stone wall wrapped in leather.
Jack didn't even flinch. He just stood there, grinning down at her like she'd patted him on the shoulder instead of trying to put her knuckles through his stomach.
Naaza pulled back her arm, unclenching and clenching her fist a few times. Her hand stung with a dull ache, but that'd go away on its own.
Her gaze flickered back to the gleaming muscles along his stomach, a quiet breath escaping through her nose.
It really made him just as tough as Mithril.
It didn't feel like punching metal, though. More like punching someone a level higher.
She looked up, meeting Jack's smirk.
"Happy now?" She gave her hand a little shake, straightening herself and brushing imaginary dust from her blouse.
"Yup. Thanks for the help, captain."
"You're welcome."
She turned around, walking back towards the wooden crate, and picked up her bow. Then she paused, fingers curled around the grip, and looked over her shoulder.
"Be careful."
Jack met her gaze, and his face sobered. He gave a slow, meaningful nod, his face gleaming as it caught a ray of sun.
She resumed her walk after a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
A potion that raised a status by three whole letters, and now one that made someone as tough as Mithril…
Maybe he'd make good on that audacious boast, after all.
__________________________________________
The blade left my fingers in a smooth motion. It sailed through the air, a dark blur against the mist and found its mark. The orc didn't even see it coming.
The dagger sank into its left eye with a wet thunk.
The monster roared, a thick and guttural noise that made my skin goosebump. It stomped forward, that massive slab of wood raised high, veins bulging in its meaty arms.
I was already moving.
My legs pumped hard against the dry grass, blood pounding in my ears. The club came down. I threw myself sideways at the last second, shoulder slamming into the dirt. A rush of displaced air lapped at my face before the ground shook, a deep, bone-rattling thud that traveled up through my palms.
I rolled to my feet, heart thundering behind my ribs. The orc was already winding up for another swing, club splitting the air in a horizontal line. I ducked, one knee flat against the grass. The slab of wood swept overhead with a whistle of wind that tickled my scalp. My legs coiled like springs.
I pushed myself up and leapt at the monster.
The world tilted. Sky, ground, the orc's ugly face—all spinning as I flipped over its head and landed on its shoulders like I was mounting a saddle. My thighs clamped down on either side of its thick neck, squeezing hard. The orc bucked, trying to shake me off, but I was already leaning forward. My fingers dug into the meaty underside of its chin, and I twisted with my whole body.
A sharp, wet crack filled my ears.
The orc wobbled. I grabbed the dagger still stuck in its eye socket and yanked. It came free with a nasty squelch, dark blood and murky fluid dripping down the blade. The other eye stared at me, red hateful light dimming away as the mob dropped to its knees.
I jumped off its back before it hit the ground, landing in a crouch on the dry grass. The orc fell forward with a meaty thud that sent vibrations through my feet.
I straightened slowly and wiped my brow with the back of my arm. Digging inside my pocket, I grabbed my bloodstained rag and wiped down the dagger. Red smeared across the fabric, turning it from brown to rust. I slid the blade back into the holster on my thigh, and turned around, eyes scanning the area.
Three dead orcs.
Nothing else walked out of the mist.
My arms sagged at my side as I allowed myself to relax.
Too bad Ravi was busy today.
Flying solo after our awesome tag team just wasn't the same anymore. That guy made everything better. More fun. More hype. The fights felt different when I had someone there to appreciate the cool shit.
A quiet sigh escaped me, shoulders dropping as I frowned.
My eyes drifted over the area again. Not as many mobs as yesterday—
Something caught my eye.
Through the mist, off to the left, there was a dark smudge that didn't quite look like a normal rock. I squinted, taking a few steps closer.
A cave?
The mist parted as I approached, revealing the entrance more clearly. Smaller than I'd thought at first. Just big enough to fit, what, four people standing elbow to elbow? Maybe five if they squeezed. The opening was uneven, jagged rocks framing it like broken teeth.
I walked up to the mouth and peered inside.
Dark, but my eyes adjusted quick. The cave was smaller than it looked from the outside. Just big enough to maybe fit a car. There were rocks scattered around, some piled up, others just lying there like someone had kicked them aside.
And at the back, tucked away among the rocks, there was a lump.
A suspicious lump, covered by a dark cloth. A cloak, maybe?
My brows drew together.
Dude, what kind of retard slept in the dungeon like tha—
My nose twitched.
I took a deep breath through my nose and immediately regretted it. The smell hit me like a punch. Thick and cloying, with an awful sweetness underneath that made my stomach turn.
Rot.
I looked around the cave, eyes darting from rock to rock. Nothing. No dead monster. No rotting food. Nothing but dirt and stone and that awful smell.
My gaze settled back on the lump.
A cold tendril coiled in my gut.
There was something poking out from the top of the cloak. A hint of white, kinda like a... skull.
Ayo, what the fuck.
I stepped inside. The smell got worse, pressing down on me like a physical weight. I scrunched my nose, breathing through my mouth as I inched closer. My feet grazed the floor with barely a sound, boots whispering against stone.
Yep... totally a skull.
White bone, yellowed in places, with pieces of rotting flesh and hair still stuck to the scalp.
Poor bastard.
I stopped next to the corpse and glanced down at the cloak covering it like a blanket. My hand reached out, fingers hovering over the edge of the fabric.
I shook my head and gripped the edge of the fabric. It was smooth and thin, probably silk. I stood like that for another moment, lips pursed.
It's the least I can do.
There could be a clue or something. A name. An emblem. If someone was waiting for whoever this was... the least I could do was bring some closure.
I pulled the cloak off slowly.
Dust rose in the air as the fabric slid away, revealing a dirty grey robe. A mummified face came into view; skin pulled tight over bones, lips shriveled back from teeth in a permanent grimace, and empty eye sockets.
A white wooden staff lay on the ground next to the corpse. And there, clutched in the corpse's arms, held tight like the most precious thing in the world, lay a brown satchel.
I crouched down and rolled the corpse onto its back. My eyes lingered on the robe and the faded emblem woven into the fabric along the left chest. A circle with... lines? Symbols?
Didn't look familiar at all.
I bent down and pried the bag out of the corpse's hands. The fingers resisted at first, but they gave way with a dry crackle. Straightening up, I opened the satchel and looked inside.
A metal tankard. A bunch of potions—five or six glass vials, their contents murky and separated into layers from sitting too long. And a big lump wrapped in dark cloth.
I fished out one of the vials and grimaced. The liquid inside was this nasty brownish-green color, tiny chunks floating in it like algae in a pond.
These had gone way bad.
I shoved the potion back and pulled out that lump. The fabric was coarse beneath my fingers, rougher than the cloak, like burlap. I unwrapped it carefully, peeling back the layers.
A… book?
I brought it closer to my face, squinting at the faded golden script on the cover.
Principles of Magic: How to Tap into Your Mind
Huh…
I slipped a thumb beneath the cover, pushing it up an inch, and—
My hand froze.
I pulled my thumb away as if burned and looked again at the cover. My lips drew into a thin line.
Magic… book?
A breath caught in my throat.
No way.
I gave a slow shake of my head. My gaze flickered to the corpse, then back to the cover.
No way…
A Grimoire? Here?
No fucking way.
What kind of moron would bring a Grimoire with them in the dungeo—
I sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying wide.
Freya.
My fingers dug into the thick cover, knuckles going white.
But why jump through hoops like this? Why not give me one like Bell at the pub?
I took another look around the cave, lips pursed. The walls were bare stone. The floor was just stone and scattered rocks. Nothing unusual. Nothing magical.
How come no one else had found this cave before?
This corpse must've been sitting here for months to shrivel like that. Maybe longer.
No way. Too many people passed through this floor. High Level 1s, Level 2s grinding for cash. No way a place like this would go ignored longer than a few days. Someone would've stumbled in like I did.
And there weren't any monsters around here that could leave a corpse like this.
She must've planted it here.
I shifted my weight to the other foot, pushing a slow breath through my nose.
Finding a friggin' Grimoire in the dungeon?
No way. This shit just didn't happen. It had Freya written all over it.
My eyes flickered back to the magic book.
I could sell it.
A hundred million valis. Enough to clear the debt and leave us with a windfall. By the end of the year, we'd be set. Miach wouldn't have to worry about money ever agai—
Shit. No. That'd piss Freya off.
I stared at the Grimoire, chewing on my bottom lip.
Or maybe it wouldn—
I gave a sharp shake of my head. No. I wasn't gambling on it. If Freya wanted me to learn magic, I'd learn the goddamn magic.
I wanted to, anyway. I've been waiting for magic ever since I woke up here.
My thumb snaked once more under the thick cover, brushing against the first page. I pushed it up a little and—
I paused, letting the coarse paper fall back in place.
Maybe I shouldn't try to read it here. It'd knock me out for a while, and that was a bad idea.
I slipped the backpack off my shoulders and placed the Grimoire inside, tucking it carefully between the bundle of spare cloth and my potato puffs.
There was no rush. I could read it at home.
My eyes drifted back to the corpse, lingering on the staff lying next to it.
I picked it up and brushed my thumb along the pale wood, feeling an uneven groove under my skin. I looked closer.
An engraving. The same emblem as the one on the robe.
I palmed the shaft, tapping the bottom against the ground with a quiet thwack.
This should do it.
I wasn't gonna lug around an old, stinky corpse. If this turned out to be legit, they could send someone to retrieve that poor bastard and bring them back to the surface for a burial or whatever.
Sighing, I pulled the cloak back over the corpse and swung my bag over my shoulder before leaving the cave.
What a day…
__________________________________________
The dark cave blurred past as Lili ran. Her legs burned, each step sending hot spikes up her calves, and her lungs stung like she'd swallowed broken glass. The sword's handle dug into her palm, slick with sweat as she clutched it tighter.
Just a little more—
Her eyes caught a haze of movement up ahead.
She slowed at the mouth of the chamber, chest heaving, and squinted at the far end, where the next tunnel gaped open. A figure shifted among the shadows, too tall to be a Killer Ant. Her heart slammed against her ribs as she shoved the sword under her coat, fingers fumbling with the fabric.
Adventurers?
They'd ignore her, like they always did—
"Oh, if it isn't little Arde."
A deep voice rolled across the room with a familiar, mocking lilt. Lili froze, her stomach dropping like she'd swallowed a stone.
No.
A figure stepped from the shadows. Brown hair and raccoon ears, with a smile on his face that looked like oil spreading over water.
Canoe.
Lili took a step back on shaky legs, her shoulders pulling in tight as a cold feeling gripped her spine. "M-mister Canoe?"
Canoe clicked his tongue and shook his head like her simple presence disappointed him. Two more shapes peeled from the dark, joining him on each side. Smiley and Skinny.
"I haven't seen you around in a while." Canoe tilted his head, that oily smile stretching wider. "It almost got me worried, you know? Made me think 'what if that silly little pallum got herself killed?'" He gave another shake of his head, brows pulling together in a mocking sliver of concern. "Where would we find another hard-working Supporter to replace her?"
The smile on his face made her skin crawl. "You haven't been avoiding us, have you, Arde?"
"N-no, of course not!" Lili shook her head, forcing as much honesty into her voice as she could muster. "Lili has been working hard to make ends meet. That's all she's been doing. Please believe Lili!"
"Working hard, you say?" Canoe's smile sharpened. His hand rested on his sword hilt, fingers tapping a slow rhythm. "Then you wouldn't mind showing us the results of that hardwork, would you—"
A faint sound rolled from somewhere across the chamber. Footsteps.
Canoe's head snapped up, gaze cutting past her. His brow twitched, and that smile thinned into something harder.
"Act normal."
His sword hissed free of its sheath, a lazy swing that ended with the blade resting against his shoulder.
The footsteps got louder.
Lili's breath stuck in her throat. She turned around, slow and careful.
A man stepped out of the same tunnel she came through. Tall, broad shoulders, and arms smeared with dried blood. He carried a white staff in one hand, holding it loose like a mere walking stick.
Lili's eyes went wide. Him again?!
"Boss." Skinny's voice hissed from behind her, barely above a whisper. "I think I know this guy."
"What?" Canoe's voice held a low, careful edge now. "Is he strong or sumthin'?"
"Think so. He's that weirdo who walks out the dungeon drenched in blood every day. Saw 'im a couple times, and he never had a weapon."
Something cold twisted in Lili's stomach when she saw the way Canoe's eyes gleamed. That greedy shine she knew too well.
No…
Her gaze snapped back to mister Jack. He walked toward them with slow, easy steps, like he was out for a stroll. Her mouth opened, the words right there, ready to spill out.
She closed her mouth.
That ugly feeling climbed higher in her chest, tangling with something that tasted like ash in her mouth.
Lili's hands balled into fists at her sides.
She couldn't.
Mister Canoe would beat her up again if she tried anything.
"We goin' for it, boss?" Smiley's whisper cut through the silence.
"Yeah. There's three of us."
Mister Jack was strong. He could deal with this—
A hand rested on her shoulder, thick fingers clamping down in a meaty grip. Lili froze, every muscle in her legs locking up. She didn't dare turn around.
"Arde, move aside." Canoe's voice sounded right by her ear, harsh and low. "And don't you dare run."
Lili jerked to the side like she'd been burned. Her feet carried her toward the wall, putting distance between herself and—and everything. She looked between Canoe and mister Jack, something cold and heavy churning deep in her gut.
"Hey there, pal." Canoe raised his chin, voice shifting into something friendly. Too friendly.
Jack slowed in his steps, stopping a few paces away. His gaze found hers for just a second, and the corner of his mouth curved up the tiniest bit. Then he looked past her at Canoe and his group, lifting one hand in greeting.
"Yo."
Canoe smiled. It didn't reach anywhere close to his eyes. "Adventuring alone?"
"Just for today." Jack tapped the staff against his shoulder and smiled back.
"Got a pretty fancy looking staff there, ey?"
"Thanks. You got a nice-looking sword too, mister raccoon man."
Canoe gestured with his chin toward the staff. "You don't look like a mage to me, though."
Lili's nails dug into her palms. That uneasy feeling in her gut wound tighter, twisting into a knot.
"I'm not. Found it on a corpse on the Tenth. Was heading back to the Guild to drop it off."
The Tenth?
He reached the Tenth Floor already?
"Of course, of course." Canoe nodded slowly, smile spreading wider and showing too many teeth. "But you don't have to go through all that trouble, pal."
Jack cocked an eyebrow.
"I happen to know that staff, you see."
Mister Jack lifted his other brow.
Lili let out a quiet breath through her nose. Only a gullible idiot would buy this kind of story.
"It belonged to a friend of mine." Canoe gestured toward the staff with one hand, voice taking on a dramatic weight. "Poor lad just vanished a while back, an' we never heard of 'im again." He shook his head, slow and mournful. "Seems he done messed up and got himself killed."
Silence stretched between them.
"That's unfortunate." Mister Jack spoke, that faint curve still playing at his lips.
"I know. I know. It's a tragedy, but that's the dungeon for ya. A damn shame. He was a good man."
Jack's smile widened, showing a hint of teeth.
Lili stared.
Is he... serious?
Did he not realize what he'd just stumbled into? This wasn't a joke. This wasn't—
"So, you want the staff, right?"
The sharp, toothy curve on mister Canoe's face grew broader. "If you'd be so kind. I know it's finder's keepers around here, but money's hard to come by in our Familia, and we've been struggling as it is already." He spread his hands in this helpless gesture, like he was asking for scraps. "We'd never afford another staff like that."
Heat surged in Lili's chest, burning like molten iron through her veins. How dare he—
"Oh?" Jack's brows rose slightly. "You're from the same Familia?"
"Yes, Soma Familia. We're not that many or that strong as the big ones out there, but we stick together and look for our own."
Lili bit at the inside of her lip, hard enough she tasted blood. Something curdled in her chest, sour and thick, making her want to gag.
"That's very touching."
Jack lifted the staff off his shoulder and angled it towards Canoe.
Lili held her breath, her nails biting deeper into her palms.
"But see this little emblem here?" He tapped his forefinger against the shaft, right where intricate grooves carved through the wood. "It doesn't match the one on your armor."
The room went silent.
Lili's stomach sank.
Stupid idiot!
He could've gotten away! Why risk his life for a stupid staff?! Just hand it over and—
That fake smile dropped clean off mister Canoe's face, leaving behind something harsh and ugly. "Looks like the charade's over, boys." He gave a slow, disappointed shake of his head, and sighed.
Metal scraped against leather—two swords sliding free of their sheaths. Smiley and Skinny stepped forward, matching smirks splitting their faces.
"You seem like a smart fella." Canoe tapped his sword twice against his shoulder, then pointed it straight at Jack. "Drop that staff and your bag while you're at it, and we'll let you go."
Silence stretched tight, like a bowstring pulled back too far.
Jack breathed out, that light curve still hanging at the corner of his mouth. "I see. Here's my counteroffer." He rolled his shoulders in a loose circle and took a step forward. "You take your friends and leave before I fuck y'all up."
Lili stared at him.
Wha—why was he taunting them?! Three against one and he just—
Canoe laughed, a harsh sound that rolled through the room like gravel. Smiley and Skinny joined in, their chuckles bouncing off the cavern walls.
"Heard that, boys? We got a tough one here."
Canoe's grin stretched wider, showing all his teeth.
"Let's teach him how Soma Familia does business."
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