"So, what do I do now? I have my first trip for him in less than a week." It was clear that I had placed myself into some sort of hot oil. Now it was starting to burn.
Big Randy answered, as Igor lay sprawled on the couch, "You go. Shirking a deal you made with him will be far worse than actually working for him. You don't get to positions like his by letting others cross you like that."
I gulped. "Alright, then, should I say no to future work with him? I don't want to get entangled with him anymore."
"No. He'll probably keep you working till the war breaks out in full effect at the very least." Big Randy sighed. "The best thing you can do now is prepare. Make the most out of this. You're not telling me that you only planned to do trips for him?"
"No," I had already chosen to tell him about the deal, so I decided that I might as well tell him about this. "I was thinking, the soldiers… they wouldn't have very much stuff. Especially if they're from peasant families."
Big Randy put a hand on his chin as he listened to me speak. Igor had already dozed off by then. "This isn't a candy-sweet world, Khan, and you're not a little girl. You cannot go around just handing out free food in the woods, eventually, the beasts realise that you have more food on you than you give them."
"Of course, I'll charge them, it's just…I'm sure they would want stuff like actual food, maybe sending messages to their parents, blankets, anything the captain himself wouldn't provide…what do you think?"
I looked at him as he churned my words in his head. Hopefully, I was on the right track. The snores of Igor in the background permeating the air with a constant, jarring rhythm.
He sat backwards on his chair, reaching for a pastry, only responding when he realised he had finished them. "That's not a bad idea, but have you thought about how you would transport all these things? Surely, you don't think they'd fit into one of those bags you carry around?"
I paused. I hadn't thought of that. If I were really to do what I was saying, then I'd probably have to get some sort of caravan…never mind, that was for later. I had to check if this worked first.
"I could just do the first delivery of whatever the captain wants. Then I'll do my best to talk to the soldiers. Maybe I could learn something."
Mhmm, "At least you're not rushing head first. Wan Cheng may not take kindly to it if he starts to think you are some sort of spy, so make sure to be extra careful. Do everything in public, and in as bright a day as possible."
I nodded.
"And one last thing, Khan, people like these, like the man you are now going to be dealing with. They treat words like air, it doesn't carry any weight to them. They'll load you with promises, and when the wolves come, you'll realise none of them were real." He shook his head, Igor's snores punctuating his words like a low rumble. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good, then go prepare, I'm sure you're still tired from your trip. I've kept you too long."
I left, looking back to see Big Randy helping Igor to his feet. I turned away, trying to get home as fast as possible. I had barely spoken to Huo Qianlei when I was home last night, and I still had to visit Healer Yao Po.
….
As soon as Khan left, Igor went back to his usual demeanour. "You shouldn't have given him that bracelet."
"I know. But who else should I have given it to? Can we just hide them forever? Leave it to the grip of history?
"We've been running for too long for us to get caught now."
"We've come this far, we can handle whatever comes next."
Igor only scoffed saying, "If they find out who really owned that bracelet… we're done. You know that."
….
I was barely getting any pangs anymore. Hopefully, I was completely free. I looked down at my arm as I walked. I opened and closed my fist, looking at the way the skin sailed over the musculature. It was almost normal now. Even my chest, I put a hand up to it. Feeling the knots and bulges that made up the new skin. There were still scars, and it looked terrible, but it was a vast improvement from what it was when that spirit beast caused it.
The district was largely the same as when I left it. Meaning, it was still filthy, and I had to watch out for every crevice, alleyway, or hooded figure. It was like constantly being in the forest, except I had to watch out for other people.
A gang of little children ran past me, dirt and soot clinging to them like skin. An old man with a large wooden plank for a cane was chasing them. A dark look in his eyes. Sometimes, this place could be worse than the forest.
I passed through a few more streets and past the street hawkers, who seemed to lessen as I got closer to the house.
….
In a small hut on the edge of the city, sat a fat, oily man. He hit the table with a large, meaty fist and pulled at his hair in frustration. "That damn hunter boy! He's been tricking me all this time. Where'd he get all that money?"
It was the overseer. He was currently in his quarters overlooking the fields of hardworking men and coarse grains.
He ran a long, out-of-place pinky fingernail over a stained parchment. He had been doing this for hours. On the parchment was Khan's name. Written over and over like he was carrying out a punishment.
Next to every harsh, rushed scribbling of Khan's name was a number. An estimate of how much the kid had made. Every line reignited his fury.
No one would tell him anything he didn't already know. Not even those pathetic bastards who tilled the fields. Their bellies had long memories as far as he was concerned, and he couldn't just punish everybody. Not over this. Even he didn't have that kind of power.
He had been trying to get at Khan for quite some time now. But he wasn't able to. The first time he'd tried, Big Randy and Igor were there to stop him, and after that, the boy had been wise.
Khan had packed up and left as quickly as possible. He was at the edge of the Mudfoot district. He was so close to the silver scale district that the supervisor couldn't do anything.
The supervisor smashed the wooden table again, hurting his hand and angering himself even more.
....
Far away, in a tanner's hut, sat Azul, cloaked with a thin robe and the soft, but harsh glow of the candlelight.
Tears ran down his face, mixing with the pulled-out hair from his scalp. No one was willing to take the job.
"…Maybe I should go myself." He said it with such trembling that even he himself did not believe the words he had just spoken.