The sun had unknowingly dipped near the western mountains, and the people of Ison finally ended their day of toil.
Men flocked to taverns of all sizes, guzzling mugs of ale and laughing raucously with friends. As night fell, Ison's bustling nightlife slowly unfurled.
The red-light district, where countless courtesans roamed, was always a favored haunt for men. But Rick, strolling through it, looked distracted, idly twirling a dagger in his hand. This made him appear intimidating; courtesans passing by dared not disturb the knife-playing youth.
"Show this dagger in any tavern, and you'll find me easily..." Shust's parting words echoed in Rick's mind. Yet he couldn't believe Shust had enough clout to extend his influence to Ison, a city under tight rule.
Staring at the dagger, it seemed unremarkable—no different from others, except for its abstract art-style engravings that glowed faintly white under the streetlamp.
"Must be bluffing..." Rick thought naturally, but since this was his only lead to Shust, he had no choice but to try.
The shadowy alley reeked of unbearable tobacco, alcohol, and overpowering perfume. Though Rick had visited multiple times, he still couldn't stomach the environment. Unwilling to waste time, he ducked into a nearby dive bar.
Cheap white pine counters, wobbly barstools, a grimy liquor shelf stocked with hard alcohol and hallucinogens—along with wanted posters and tacky nude prints on stained walls—confirmed he'd found a low-class joint, likely frequented by laborers and cheap thrill-seekers.
"Wrong place." Rick thought, turning to leave after one glance.
"Hey there, handsome! Leaving so soon?" A buxom, middle-aged woman in a revealing bunny outfit wiggled over, grabbing him.
"This isn't my scene." Rick dodged her encroaching cleavage, embarrassed.
"Too good for our humble place? Don't worry—our girls are the prettiest, drinks the strongest. We'll satisfy you, cutie." The bunny girl persisted.
"Um..." Unable to shake her off, Rick reluctantly sat and ordered a drink.
"Hehe, Madam still has it—even green boys can't resist," another woman cackled. "You planning to eat young grass? Let me have him instead!"
"Scram!" The bunny girl shooed the brazen prostitute, placing a foamy rum in front of Rick.
Rick took a sniff and wrinkled his nose at the strange odor. The glass looked unwashed, killing his appetite for drink. The lewd laughter around him made him uncomfortable—no one liked being ogled as if counting their every hair.
"Fuck it. Thinking Shust would be here is madness."
Considering Shust's down-and-out noble demeanor, Rick couldn't imagine him in such a dive, especially now that he was rich. But he pulled out the dagger on a whim, jabbing it into the wooden table. "Recognize this?"
The bunny girl's face shifted subtly. She bowed abruptly. "You're a distinguished guest! I'll prepare a private room at once."
"Private room?" Rick blinked, surprised she knew the dagger.
"Please wait there."
Was he imagining it? The coquettish woman seemed to transform—the brothel vibe vanished, replaced by an indescribable aura. "Bars sure hide plenty of secrets."
Chuckling, Rick followed her to an inner chamber. One step inside, he froze. It was an ordinary room: a prominent 大床 (large bed), lingering hints of lust in the air, crumpled tissues on the floor, and stained sheets. When the bunny girl sauntered to the bed, Rick panicked, waving his hands. "Wait! You've got it wrong, I'm not here for—"
Click. She twisted the bedside lamp. With a mechanical grind, the bed split in two, revealing a trapdoor to an underground passage.
"Ison's full of hidden chambers." Rick blushed, embarrassed by his misunderstanding, and stepped into the tunnel as the bunny girl closed the mechanism behind him.
Treading wooden steps, Rick soon reached the passage's end, where a brown door blocked his way.
He knocked politely, but received no reply. After a moment's hesitation, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was less than ten square meters, furnished with a bookshelf, a desk, a wine rack, and a sofa—nothing more, making it appear a mundane workspace.
"Heh, a decent space under a bar. Go figure." Rick rubbed his nose, wandering to the bookshelf. He plucked a thread-bound volume, about to flip through it when a familiar voice sounded behind him.
"I'd put that down if I were you."
That was Shust's unique tone—arrogant and cold. Rick spun around to find Shust, clad in black, as expected.
"So the dagger really worked! How the hell... I had no idea you're this famous in Ison." Rick stepped forward, grinning.
"You don't know half of it." Shust snatched the book from Rick, returning it to the shelf. He went to the wine rack, pouring himself a drink. "Want one?"
"Sure." Rick eyed the book again, persistent. "What's in that book anyway?"
"Assassin secrets—not for prying eyes." Shust handed him a glass, then settled on the sofa, eyeing Rick with interest. "Why are you here?"
"Right... I wanted to ask—have you taken any jobs lately?"
"Of course. A very lucrative one." Shust's corner of his mouth twitched, lending his expression a sinister edge.
Under that gaze, Rick shifted uneasily. He rolled his neck, cautious. "Mind telling me about it?"
"Since when do you care about this? Planning to join the trade?"
"Nope." Rick waved his hands. "I'm no assassin. Just curious about your 近况 (recent activities)."
Shust frowned. "Since when do you care? Spit it out."
"Fine." Rick steeled himself. "I got a job—your least favorite kind: bodyguard. I need to know if my client is on your hit list."
"Dammit, you picked to be my rival." Shust laughed dryly, pulling a photo from his coat and tossing it to Rick. "This your client?"
Rick's eyes widened at the photo. "Gria was right—you took the job."
"Killing a sickly girl for such a fat payout? Only a fool would refuse." Shust sneered, clapping Rick's shoulder. "Do yourself a favor: quit now. You have no idea who you're up against. Don't die for a lost cause."
"The Thornton family?" Rick blurted.
Shust raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. But my client isn't the Thorntons."
"Then it's Vice-Guild Master Diego?"
Shust studied Rick in surprise. "So the Guild has some smart folks after all. But after doing your homework, you still want in?"
"Of course. I keep my word." Rick puffed out his chest.
"Idiot!" Shust yanked a file from the bookshelf, tossing it to Rick. "You think a nobody like you can meddle in this? Since you killed three Thorntons in that alley, the underworld's been ordered to watch you. With your recent stunts in Ison, you might be on a hit list too."
"Me?" Rick paled at the thick file in his hands—detailed reports of his daily movements. "They want me dead too?"
"Obviously. You're Manny's ticket into Palais Saint-Rosel. With you around, she can come and go as she pleases, even stay there. Do you think the Thorntons dare strike under Arthur's nose? So they'll target you first. Ambushing her en route to the palace is their best play."
Shust's words left Rick white-faced. If he'd been under surveillance, coming here had just exposed him.
Seeing Rick's panic, Shust smirked. "Finally catching on, fool?"
Rick gaped. "You... knew all this?"
"Course. I'm a key player in this hit, even if I'm on the periphery. How could I not know?" Shust preened.
"Then why meet me?!"
"Let you get stabbed to death?"
"But—"
"Shut up!" Shust flicked Rick's head, laughing at his confusion. "Let me guess: the Guild tipped you off about my involvement. You want me to help you pick off the other assassins before they strike, right?"
"Yep." Rick nodded frankly.
"Have you heard of assassin etiquette? A legend like me can't collude with a bodyguard—it'd ruin my rep."
"Etiquette?" Rick blinked, clueless.
"You don't know?!" Shust groaned, massaging his temple. "Bug hunters have guilds, merchants have unions—assassins have the Killer's Guild. Did you think my 'Nirvana' reputation spread worldwide on its own?"
"Killer's Guild? So you're with them?"
"Heh, of course I'm in the Killer's Guild. Did you think I was with the Bug Hunters like you?" Shust snapped.
"Ah, I see. I always thought you were a bug hunter." Rick looked sheepish. Born a commoner, he'd never understood occupational hierarchies, instinctively assuming anyone using combat bugs belonged to the Bug Hunters. The world was far more complex than he'd imagined.
"You ignorant fool." Shust found communicating with Rick exhausting. He poured another drink. "Let me explain: every bar worldwide is a Killer's Guild liaison post. When an assassin arrives somewhere, they just show their tag, register, and get local assignments plus a dedicated contact. That dagger has my mark, so it leads to me in any bar."
Rick finally grasped the guild's function, but still didn't see how it related to his request.
"Guilds have rules. One is strict loyalty to clients. Taking a job means no actions against the employer, or you get expelled. You probably don't know—without the guild, a killer can't survive."
"So my plan is off? You won't help?"
"As a friend, I should. But as an assassin, I can't." Shust spread his hands helplessly.
"I hate your professional ethics!" Rick growled.
"Fine, let's talk business." Shust slung an arm over Rick's shoulder, grinning slyly. "For old times' sake, I could bend the rules. But 'Nirvana' is a prestigious brand in the killer world. It'd pain me to tarnish it."
"Huh?" Rick perked up—there was a loophole.
He realized the sneaky bastard's angle and shoved him away. "I have no money! You're shaking down your own friend?"
"Useless idiot. If you're broke, your boss must have cash. You lack bodyguard sense—treat this like your personal mission, or do you have a thing for that sickly girl?"
"Baloney!" Rick yelped, but his heart skipped a beat.
"See? Knew it." Shust laughed, then turned serious. "I'm not joking. Friends are friends, business is business. Meeting you broke guild rules—by rights, I should kill you here."
Rick felt a chill. Shust's recent civility didn't mean he'd reformed. The man was a born killer; if Rick didn't offer something, he might kill Manny regardless.
"I can't decide, but I'll take you to Gria. He's loaded—won't be stingy..."
"Heh heh..." Satisfied, Shust grabbed his trench coat. "Let's go."
"Now? It's the middle of the night!" Rick gaped.
"Killers do business at night. This is a brand-damaging deal—we act fast."
Shust shoved Rick out, heading for the Pai Mansion.
In the Pai Mansion's top-floor office, steward Gria had just finished work. As he rose to make coffee, the room's bug lamps flickered dimly, then brightened.
"Hmm? Are these bugs aging?" Gria flicked a bulb, but the glowing insects inside seemed fine, puzzling him.
He turned with his coffee, only to startle violently—some stranger sat in his chair, while Rick stood beside him, looking thoroughly embarrassed as he gave a sheepish wave.
Pfft! Gria spat out his coffee, nearly thinking he'd seen a ghost if not for Rick's shadow in the lamplight.
"Rick?! How did you get in here? And... who is this gentleman?"
"Sorry, we didn't mean to scare you. Shust said assassins should move like this, so we—" Rick mumbled an apology.
"Shust?" The name jolted Gria's memory to Rick's earlier plan.
"Pleasure to meet you." Gria extended his hand politely, but Shust ignored it, eyeing him up and down. "Fine fabric."
"Hm?" Gria was confused.
"Your suit." Shust stood abruptly, adjusting his collar. "You know my reputation and the guild rules, so you understand my purpose here."
"I didn't expect Rick to convince you, but since I sent him, I can afford your price. Name it." Though speaking confidently, Gria's hand inched toward a hidden alarm on the cabinet.
"Heh, cautious one. You think I'd use Rick to get in here and kill the sick girl? To be honest, that's a good plan—why didn't I think of it earlier?" Shust sneered, staring at Gria's hand.
"WHAT?!" Rick broke into a cold sweat. He'd never considered that possibility, but knowing Shust, it was entirely plausible.
"Hey, don't you dare! I don't care who else you kill, but don't use me to get to Manny!"
"Look at you panicking." Shust shoved Rick aside, pointing to the alarm. "Best move your hand. I'm here to negotiate, but assassins have 忌讳 (taboos). Your finger on that alarm makes me nervous—and when I'm nervous, I act without thinking, so..."
"Understood." Gria stepped back, keeping his hands visible. "I'll meet your price. How much?"
"Ten times the bounty. Fair, no?" Shust smiled.
"Ten times...?" Gria nearly choked. He knew Shust's usual fees—ten times would be astronomical. The thought made his head throb, but thinking of Manny, he pushed the numbers aside. "Ten times is acceptable."
"Oh?" Shust glanced at Gria in surprise, muttering, "She must mean a lot to you." Without another word, he flipped out the window and vanished into the night.