[Corvin Perspective]

I woke up to a fiery spark that appeared before me. The flame slowly faded until a message emerged from it. The message floated in the air for a moment before falling onto the table. I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand, trying to ease the sudden headache that struck me. On the table, there were many scattered playing cards.

In front of me, the chair where the man who came with that lunatic in the mask had been sitting was tipped over on the floor. That man was sleeping on it, snoring. And on his belly lay a sleeping cat?... Oh right, that little cat he had been carrying since he arrived.

I tried to recall what happened last night, and after several attempts, I finally managed to. Last night I had brought out some of my precious liquor bottles and poured him a drink, trying to get any information out of him. But that bastard didn't speak no matter how much I tried. Somehow, it all ended with us in a drinking contest. That was the last thing I remembered.

I sat on the edge of the table, took the letter, opened it, and began to read. That was when I felt like I was about to cry. The letter was from Boss Verona. It wasn't the sender that made me nearly cry, but its contents.

She was asking me to arrange a meeting with that masked lunatic. I reread the letter several times, hoping I had misunderstood it, but apparently, she really was asking this of me.

What did I do in my life to deserve such torment? Sure, I wasn't exactly a righteous man, but I wasn't that much of a scumbag either.

I had to act. I had told her that I knew the masked man. I said we had some old connection, that he was an old friend. All of that was partly true

except when I called him a friend. That lunatic could never have friends.

Now I either had to ask him to come with me to meet her, and maybe, if luck favored me, he would agree and come quietly. Or, if luck didn't favor me and that was the likelier outcome my head would part ways with my body. The other option was to tell her he refused to meet, and then F'quill, her deputy, would slice my lower half from my upper. Why did I have to be surrounded by maniacs?

As I was drowning in these grim thoughts, trying to find some way to stay alive, I heard the creak of the door opening. Seems I had forgotten to lock it last night.

I cast a quick glance at the door. Through it stepped a thirteen year old boy. He wore a striped cotton shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his wrists, a brown vest over it, dark trousers, and a wide brimmed hat on his head.

I sighed deeply.

"What are you doing here?"

Dorian approached the shop table and glanced at the masked man's companion sleeping on the floor.

"Who's that?"

I answered as I arranged the scattered cards on the table.

"Ignore him. Now tell me, what are you doing here? I don't think you came to buy a sword, did you?"

"The swords you sell are useless anyway."

I gestured toward the shop door.

"Look, I'm not in the mood for chatter right now. Get out."

He didn't reply. Instead, he pulled a chair from the corner of the shop, set it down in front of me, sat across from me, and said:

"I have news for you."

I waved him off dismissively while continuing to gather the cards, but he went on.

"The Claw sent Johnny the Fierce to this district."

I immediately raised my eyes toward him.

"Talk."

He extended his hand in the air before me. Quickly, I pulled out five bronze coins from my pocket and placed them in his palm.

He looked at the coins, then at me.

"That's it?"

"If you don't like it, give them back."

"Sheesh… stingy bastard."

He pocketed the coins and then said:

"They killed the man in charge of this area."

"Edmund the Solid is dead?! When? How?!"

"Last night. As for how no one knows for sure, but the rumors say he was killed by a masked man wearing a white mask with a frown painted on it."

"Maybe just rumors. You know they always pin anything on that masked freak."

Dorian shook his head.

"No, this time it's not just rumors. I was working at the restaurant when a group of Claw men stormed in and caused chaos. I saw that masked man rise from his table and look around, then he killed the group's leader and the man beside him. He let the rest flee, then chased them. By morning, the news of the official's death had spread along with word that Johnny the Fierce had arrived."

I pulled out ten more bronze coins from my pocket and threw them in his face. He caught them quickly, and when he saw them in his hand, a wide smile spread across his face. Then he stood up from the chair and said:

"Take care of yourself."

I waved him off with a nod, but my mind was elsewhere. My troubles were far greater than some Claw investigation. Now in my shop lay the beast that masked lunatic. And he seemed insanely strong. I hadn't expected him to dare kill one of the Claw's higher ups, then return and sleep as if he had gone for a stroll. That man was no human by any stretch. He was a monster.

And now I had to ask that monster to meet the boss. This was madness! Why did I have to do this? I should have feigned ignorance and sent them false reports. But now it was too late for regret.

Still, I had one last question just one: Why had he killed Edmund the Solid? Obviously not for justice. Did he do it simply because they disturbed him while he was eating? What a savage kind of vengeance.

And now I had to go to him directly to the den of that monster.

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