Blood dripped from the sack as he walked, but in this part of the city, no one paid attention to things that weren't their business. When he arrived at Jenny's bar in Area A, the shutters were down. For a second, he considered just leaving. Instead, he knocked—twice, hard. A raspy voice answered from inside. "We open at eight."
"Got Taylor Evans."
Silence. Then, a weary sigh. "…Back door. Round the side."
Asmon found the entrance easily—a narrow, unmarked door hidden in the alley. He stepped inside, finding himself in a space that resembled the bar but with a much different feel.
A thick glass pane divided the room, and behind it, an older man sat at a desk, eyes dull and unreadable. He barely reacted to Asmon's entrance, only glancing at the sack over his shoulder. "For any future business, use this room." The man's voice was flat, professional. "Normally, you'd have been told that when you first started, but Jenny and I forgot."
Asmon shrugged. "Noted. Now, let's get this over with." He dropped the sack onto the table with a heavy thud.
A slip of paper was pushed forward. 'Taylor Evans, confirmed.' The old man adjusted his gloves and got to work, unzipping the sack and inspecting the body with a precision that reminded Asmon of a coroner. "Gunshot wound to the head. Time of death—less than an hour ago. Signs of severe ear trauma, likely caused by magical interference. Malnourished. No tampering with the body. Organs intact."
Asmon watched, mildly impressed. The guy had dissected Taylor's final moments like he was reading a book. "You a former coroner or something?"
The man didn't even glance up. "Something like that." Then, business resumed. "Here for the bounty?"
Asmon nodded. A thick stack of cash appeared on the counter. "Standard cut is ten percent. That leaves you with two-point-seven million creds. If you don't want cash, we offer alternative payments."
"Alternative?"
"We can deposit into a nominee account, convert it into laundered funds, or invest it into bonds, stocks—various assets."
''So even in Valkan, financial loopholes were alive and well.' Before Asmon could respond, the heavy drapes behind the man rustled.
Jenny stepped out, looking like she'd just rolled out of bed. Her hair was a mess, her clothes slightly wrinkled. She stretched, yawning. "Oh? You're back already?" She rubbed her eyes, glancing at the sack. "Didn't think you were that desperate for cash."
Asmon pocketed the money. "Just doing my job."
Jenny grinned. "And doing it fast. Most bounty hunters take days, even weeks, to track someone down. You wrapped it up in half a day."
"Luck, I guess."
She snorted. "Right. Luck." Jenny wasn't buying it, but she didn't push. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "If you can work this efficiently, that means you can handle yourself."
"I can take more jobs now, if that's what you're getting at."
Jenny waved him off. "Not so fast. First, go back and report the job to Achilles Corp. After that, check on the Scavengers. We need to wrap this up properly."
"One job's not enough?"
"We need to watch you a little longer," Jenny said smoothly. "It's not about whether you're good—it's about finding the right kind of jobs for you. That way, we make sure you're always getting the best deals."
Asmon narrowed his eyes. 'That was too… neat. Too easy of an excuse.' Jenny was good at talking, spinning words that sounded reasonable but didn't really mean anything. But arguing was pointless. He had his money. That was all that mattered. "Fine." He pocketed the cash and turned to leave. "Until next time."
"Wait," Jenny called out. "One more thing."
He paused. "What?"
"I'm curious—where'd you even get those cigarettes?" Not quite the question he was expecting. Asmon took one out of his pocket and twirled it between his fingers. "Looking for a place that sells them, actually. Doesn't have to be in cigarette form—I just want to see what else is out there."
Jenny fell silent. She and the old man exchanged a glance. Slowly, she picked up one of the cigarettes from the counter, turning it over in her fingers. She examined it, then brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. Her brow twitched. For a split second, her expression tightened—but she recovered quickly. Setting it down, she let out a slow breath. "Shit. Thought it was some kind of high-end synthetic drug."
Asmon raised a brow. "So, you do know what it is?"
Jenny exhaled slowly, tapping the cigarette against the counter before handing it back to Asmon. "It's just a cheap recreational blend," she muttered. "Not sure about the brand, but I recognize the ingredients—Melodis and Alpi leaves, ground up and mixed with plant oil."
Asmon rolled the cigarette between his fingers. Jenny gave him a look. "But for a mage? Isn't this a little beneath you? Keep smoking these, and your brain's gonna turn to mush."
"Mush, huh?"
"Exactly. It's garbage. The production method is crude, the burn quality is awful, and the scent? Completely unrefined. If you're going to indulge, you might as well go for something high-end—less junk, fewer side effects."
Asmon said nothing. Considering he'd lifted this straight from a factory supervisor's pocket, he wasn't shocked to hear it was bottom-tier trash. The sharp buzz it gave him had been enough to get by, but now that he thought about it, the side effects were pretty brutal.
Jenny stretched, running a hand through her messy hair. "Anyway, if you're into this kind of thing, you should check out Plumber's Orchard. They cater to people with… particular tastes. Real connoisseurs. You might find something better suited to you." She rattled off an address.
Asmon nodded. "Appreciate it. I'll drop by sometime."
"See you around." Jenny waved him off, already losing interest.
Asmon turned, stepping away from the counter, but after only a few steps, he stopped. "…Wait. One more thing."
Jenny raised a brow. "What now?"
Asmon hesitated for half a second before asking, "Do they have anything marketed as a health supplement?"
****
After Asmon disappeared from sight, the old man quietly set to work, tidying up the remains of Taylor Evans. He took photos, collected genetic samples, sealed everything, and sent it all off to Achilles Corporation's intermediary. Another commission fee came out of the process, of course—nothing ever moved in this business without a cut being taken somewhere. Jenny, watching with her chin propped in her hand, exhaled through her nose. "Kinda weird, don't you think? A guy looking for both a drug-laced cigarette and a health supplement at the same time?"
The old man, Jordan, barely glanced up. "You mean the mage?"
"Yeah. If I were in business, I'd assume he was either insane or onto something. But then again, mages are always a little off. Geniuses usually are."
Jenny seemed ready to brush it off as just another eccentric customer, but Jordan had other thoughts. He continued wiping down the counter, speaking in a calm, measured tone. "I dug into something interesting while sifting through the Scavenger network."
Jenny immediately frowned. "You're still watching those bottom-feeders? Old man, paying the Mirror Divers for info is a complete waste."