The poisoner sat in the interrogation room. He showed no panic, nor did he deliberately choose a stance advantageous to himself. He simply sat there, like the lone spectator left in the theater after the audience had dispersed. Surprisingly, the interrogation proceeded smoothly from the start. He had already confessed to being one of the Ravenholt assassins hired by Salvaney.
"We were a total of five. Including the one you killed," he said.
"What was the purpose of your two in this operation?" Dennisen asked.
"Purpose? To fulfill the contract. My relationship with Salvaney is purely business; there's no need to concern myself with his intentions."
"What did he intend for your companions to do?"
"I don't know because the contract wasn't that detailed. Specific tasks were decided by Salvaney on the fly. But everyone had only one task, that much I can confirm. I've completed my part, even if you hadn't caught me, I wouldn't cause any more trouble."
"Did you choose specific targets for the poisoning?"
"Sorry, I can't divulge too much. It concerns business reputation."
"Fine, but I remind you, we are not your business adversaries. Understand where you're sitting right now."
"I've said all I can, and you see, I'm cooperative. I don't want to joke with Ravenholt Manor's reputation. It wouldn't hold up once I return."
"Do you think you can still go back?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
This exchange clearly irked Dennisen. Panthonia, who had been observing, spoke up.
"I ask you. Does your contract include a clause stating that secrecy outweighs life?"
The assassin stared at Panthonia and shook his head. "No."
"Alright. You will answer all my questions, or I will kill you immediately. As someone without an actual identity, your death won't bring me any trouble."
"Aren't you afraid Ravenholt will come after you?"
"You failed in your job. You poisoned, but no one died. They won't seek revenge for such a slight against the Manor's honor."
"That hits a nerve. I thought you were just skilled in combat, didn't expect... How did you know all this?"
"You're not entitled to ask."
"Okay. It's not beneficial for me to continue this back and forth. I can tell you some things under the condition of preserving my life. Salvaney is a brute who never considered strict confidentiality clauses in contracts. The tasks suitable for assassins are actually quite complex, but he only saw our destructive capabilities. Keep asking, I don't want to be your prisoner."
"Since you think he's not very smart, you must have asked him about his motives for doing this."
"We did ask, after all, we didn't want unnecessary trouble. Simply put, Salvaney wanted to cause disturbances in the inner city. The specific location of the turmoil didn't matter, as long as it was famous, well-known. As for who I poisoned, it doesn't matter either. Salvaney only decided to send me and another person there after hearing about that officer's celebratory banquet. He planned to immediately announce his instigation once all five of us had completed our destructive tasks— but not just for himself. He said it was on behalf of all the people of the Queen's District against Stormwind City."
"What does he want, a riot?" Dennisen said.
"No, he talks it up as a rebellion, but he doesn't have that intention at all. He's just a natural criminal and lunatic, hoping to gather more people this way. Of course, this is just my personal speculation."
"Give us some more useful intelligence. We need to stop your three accomplices," Dennisen continued.
"Oh, this won't work. One reason is as I said before, the specific tasks were assigned by Salvaney on the fly. Another reason is, I can't put my companions in jeopardy, otherwise, I won't survive after leaving here."
"Let's discuss outside," Dennisen said to Panthonia. The two left the interrogation room.
"Do you think he's telling the truth?"
"Yes, unless he actually signed a contract to sell his life. But this is just a regular transaction between him and a gang leader, not something Ravenholt assassins would do," Panthonia said.
"What should we do now... although we've caught someone, these guys' actions are indeed too unpredictable. Moreover, if, as he said, Salvaney doesn't have a specific target, it's even harder to know where to start. We can't possibly forbid all the nobles and officials in the city from holding banquets or something," Dennisen said.
Panthonia understood all this, but he also understood that perhaps the Security Bureau could endure one more failure, but he himself couldn't.
"Let him reveal Salvaney's location, and we'll raid the Queen's District. How about that?" Dennisen said.
"He won't tell. It'll be disadvantageous to his people over there."
"If we want to take comprehensive preventive measures, it would require too many manpower, not to mention Salvaney's targets are all big shots..."
Before Dennisen finished, his partner had already returned to the room, so he followed.
"In what circumstances would you terminate the contract?" Panthonia asked the assassin.
"When both parties agree to terminate it, or if the employer violates the contract. Of course, if we die ourselves, then it's automatically void."
"What if the employer dies?" Dennisen said.
"Unless the contract itself has clauses protecting the employer. If not, as long as we get paid, the employer's life or death doesn't matter."
"If we offer more payment, can you terminate the contract?"
When Panthonia said this, Dennisen looked at him with a puzzled expression.
"Well... then you'll have to sign a new contract with me, stating the termination of the employment relationship with Salvaney, with no other terms included. Also, the payment should be at least double."
"You failed the mission, and another person died. That means there are still three assassins in contract with Salvaney."
"Exactly. But at least I got the down payment."
"How much did Salvaney promise to pay these three?"
"We each get the same amount. So for the remaining three, it's..." he stated a figure.
"I can offer double the payment to let you terminate your relationship with him."
"What?" Dennisen frowned at Panthonia, then immediately turned to the assassin. "Listen, if we capture Salvaney but guarantee it won't affect your companions..."
"Capturing the employer, how could that not affect us, unless after you capture Salvaney, you're also willing to pay us double... This is essentially the same as your partner's proposal, and much more troublesome to implement," the assassin turned to Panthonia. "I'm interested in your idea. In fact, because Salvaney will choose targets from the big shots, this is also very disadvantageous to us. To be honest with you, I deliberately chose those who are not central figures in social circles to serve poisoned wine, and I didn't use the most potent poison. So, have you two really agreed?"
"Money will be raised quickly. I need you to go back and inform the companions around Salvaney,"
"Then you need to give me a down payment first. Also, my personal reward must be increased by fifty percent because Salvaney already knows I've been caught, so sneaking back in is risky."
"No problem. I'll arrange it now."
"I look forward to it."
Panthonia left the interrogation room and walked briskly. Dennisen caught up with him.
"Are you crazy?" Dennisen grabbed Panthonia's shoulder, making him turn around. "What's the meaning of this? Making deals with assassins?"
"They're assassins, but not necessarily our enemies. This is the best way, almost no manpower used, quick resolution, and we can suppress the news as much as possible."
"But what about the money? Where's such a large sum of money coming from? As soon as the higher-ups hear about this idea, they'll probably suspend us first, let alone allocate funds."
"We have enough money."
"So I ask you, where's the money? Even if I throw in all the money I've prepared for marriage, it's..."
"In Polunius's daughter's account."
"You..." Dennisen paused for a moment. "What are you saying?"
"The money there is enough to pay the reward."
"No, stop joking. We can't do this."
"What's the problem? That's the criminals' money, earned by Polunius through Salvaney. We'll use Salvaney's money to get rid of himself."
"Panthonia, I've always valued your opinions, but..."
"Then I'll give you a day to think about it, come up with a more effective solution. Dennisen, don't overestimate your ability to sympathize with strangers..."
Dennisen pushed Panthonia's chest forward abruptly, causing his partner's back to hit the wall. He wanted to grab Panthonia's collar further, but held back his right hand.
"I came into this line of work with a conscience," he said, "I have my conscience."
"Don't make it a big deal. The current situation is very simple. Are you willing to consider a woman you don't even know, even if it sacrifices our most important mission? I ask you, does that woman benefit from being kept by a large sum of black money that she can use at will? If you don't come up with a better idea within a day, then we'll do it my way."
After saying that, he left without looking back. He could hear Dennisen kicking the bench hard in the corridor.
Back home, Panthonia opened the window and sat on the sofa. Some rays of the setting sun streamed in, illuminating his clasped hands above the table: gestures of prayer, contemplation, or pleading. He stared at the dust floating above his thumb. The wound in his abdomen no longer hurt, but there was still a sense of restlessness, reminding him of his complete failure. Bribing assassins was ultimately a risky move, but he couldn't wait any longer.
From the age of seventeen when he arrived in Southshore, he met Jorach Ravenholt, who collected villagers' commissions to ensure they were not harmed. Over the next five years, they both became protectors and secret rulers of Southshore. Initially, Jorach was more experienced, but Panthonia learned faster. All the knowledge and skills he possessed today had taken shape back then. At that time, he thought Jorach, who focused too much on formality, was inflexible, while Jorach thought he was too radical and unstable. However, this difference did not greatly affect the trust between them — it could even be said that Jorach was his friend. They exchanged identities countless times, rescued each other, imitated each other's handwriting for better cooperation; they dealt with bandits, raiders who turned from refugees, and soldiers.
Panthonia didn't plan to stay in this small fishing village for long; their friendship ended when he decided to go to Stormwind City. "There's nothing here, and there never will be," Panthonia said to Jorach, "but Stormwind City is different. There, we can do things on a completely different level." Jorach, who always considered himself a descendant of the Alterac nobility and self-proclaimed duke without any lineage proof, said he would stay forever on the mountains visible from his homeland. In the test to replace farewell, Panthonia quickly won and rejected several people who wanted to follow him. "You don't have to follow, "he said to the others, pointing his dagger at Jorach's neck," just rot here with this coward who won't even dare to cross that bridge."
That was the last impression ten years ago. Now, there were few who hadn't heard of Ravenholt Manor. Panthonia himself was an investigator of the Security Bureau, sitting in the sickroom and fully digesting every accusation and humiliation from Koen.
As the sun was about to set, the trembling in the air groped Panthonia's skin, entering his brain through his earholes. He remembered something unpleasant yet unforgettable. There was an indescribable warmth at the soles of his feet touching the ground, while his eyes saw the colors of light more clearly than usual. He stood up, closed the window, and left the house, walking along the street by the river.