Viper pov
Daelan doesn't respond right away. He just stands there, swaying slightly on his feet, eyes heavy with exhaustion. I raise an eyebrow, waiting. The man looks like he's about to collapse any second now, but I know him well enough to know he'd rather pass out standing than admit to being weak.
With a sigh, I casually stroll around the battlefield, stepping over corpses, pools of blood, and what I sincerely hope isn't someone's spleen, until I find a semi-clean orc body. Good enough. I drop onto it, stretching my legs out, resting my elbows on my knees as I tilt my head up at Daelan.
"Daelan," I begin, my voice low and serious, the kind of tone people use when delivering profound revelations. "I'm sure you know what this means."
He stares at me for a moment, his breath still ragged, his body still dripping with the remnants of his bloodbath. For a second, I think he's going to ignore me. But then—
"Yeah," he finally mutters after a long pause.
I squint at him. "Are you sure?"
Another moment of hesitation. Then, more firmly this time, "Yes."
I grin. Good.
Because Emmaline is going to be very pleased about this and when Emmaline is happy, she's generous.
I'm already picturing it—Daelan, nicely packaged, metaphorically speaking, in a neat little bow, a gift straight to my dear boss. Oh, she's going to love this.
And me? I get paid. A lot.
***
Daelan's POV
The moment we step out of the dungeon's glowing rift, I know we have a problem.
I can barely stand, my entire body screaming in protest. My limbs feel like they're made of stone, my head pounding from exhaustion and blood loss. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, but in these areas, looking weak is as good as painting a giant target on your back.
Predators lurk around the outskirts of dungeons—mercenaries, looters, scavengers. Those who are too weak to fight their own battles but strong enough to steal from others who did. And right now? We look like prey.
Korin has finally regained consciousness, though he's leaning heavily against Kirelle for support. The twins are spent, and I—
I'm not sure I can hold my ground if another fight starts.
I could use my bloodline ability again. I could force myself to keep going. But I'm so damn tired of this struggle, of this constant fight for survival, of clawing my way out of the depths just to end up right back in them.
I exhale slowly, pressing a hand to my temple as I start gathering whatever spoils of loot are left from the dungeon. It's not much, but it's something.
"Please leave those scraps behind."
Viper's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I glance over to find him standing there, still wearing his goddamn slippers, looking like he just walked out of a spa, not a battlefield. He's been texting furiously on his phone, clearly setting something up.
I hesitate for a second, but then I sigh and let go of the loot. I don't have the energy to argue. The twins don't say anything either. They just watch.
And then—
We're surrounded.
The moment I see the massive figure step forward, my stomach drops.
Tall, broad, covered in layers of mismatched armor, a giant sword slung over his shoulder like it weighs nothing. An eye patch covering one eye, the other burning with malice.
Fuck.
Of all the people we could run into, One-Eye had to be one of them.
An A-ranked mercenary, murderer, and thief, One-Eye isn't just dangerous—he's unpredictable. Sometimes he works for money. Other times, he just kills for the fun of it.
And right now? We look like easy targets.
I tighten my grip on my dagger, already preparing to fight.
***
Viper's POV
I sigh loudly, stepping in front of Daelan before he does something reckless.
"Hold it, One-Eye," I say smoothly, walking toward him with the casual ease of someone who is not currently standing in a death trap.
His single good eye narrows as he tilts his head at me. "Viper?"
I flash a grin. "In the flesh."
One-Eye scoffs. "Rumor has it you finally crawled out of Sector Z after latching onto some big shot." He adjusts his grip on his absurdly massive sword, the blade catching the light ominously. "What, you back to slumming it with the rejects?"
Charming.
"I did leave," I confirm, stopping just a few paces away. "And I've got a proposition for you."
His expression darkens. "What if I just kill them and loot their bodies instead?"
The second he says it, Daelan tenses behind me, ready to fight despite being half-dead.
I roll my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, that means you'd have to fight me too," I say, sighing dramatically. "Now, normally, I wouldn't mind watching you two hack each other to pieces, but let's be honest—" I gesture vaguely. "You've got what? A 50% chance of winning? Even if you do win, you'll be injured. And you know what happens to injured hunters in places like these."
One-Eye pauses.
He knows I'm right. Around these parts, an injured A-rank is basically a walking paycheck for whoever manages to take them down. He'd be a target instantly.
He exhales sharply through his nose. "How much are we talking?"
Now we're getting somewhere.
I smirk and pull out my phone, turning the screen toward him.
The second he sees the figure, his entire demeanor changes. The menace disappears, his stance shifts from predator to merchant, and I swear to god, the man actually smiles.
I don't know exactly how much Emmaline just transferred, but judging by the way a literal cutthroat mercenary just turned into a friendly neighborhood businessman, I'd say it's enough.