Out in the market square, shish-kebabs and sweets made from rice and sweet beans were a dime-a-dozen. However, in one corner, a particular pair was cooking up a rich aroma that went unnoticed at first. But soon enough, the scent was beginning to waft out all over the stalls, and nobody could quite place it.

“Strange. With this kind of smell, you would think that people would be coming over in droves by this point,” Ainsworth noted.

“I see. Alright, time to try out my idea,” said Seni. “I’ll have you know, my singing voice is beautiful. And I’m not saying that because I’m an egotistical douchebag.”

He stepped out to the front of their stall, sucked in his breath, and began to sing his siren song that was about the pains of having small genitals.

Ainsworth stopped and listened as if he were in a trance. It wasn’t that the song sounded particularly good, or if it had any sort of deep meaning, but it was the medium of Seni’s voice through which it was delivered that suddenly turned it into a masterpiece. 

Many countries in the south held a deep respect for the arts, especially music and stories. Even the peasants often lived peaceful lives due to fertile soil and mild winters. Immortal rulers often held to a strong moral code that was enforced by other immortals. This period of comfort had led to a point in time where they could focus on recreation rather than survival, and music had been specially developed in the courts of nobles and kings.

Compared to all of the bards that Ainsworth had listened to, their voices couldn’t hold a candle to Seni’s. It was the type of talent that was only natural for someone with such a delicate voice, and any normal person would take years upon years of tedious practice to reach that level, if at all.

“Although...isn’t that a bit vulgar?” said Ainsworth

Seni shrugged his shoulders. “You’re probably right. But on the flip side, now we’ve got a ton of customers! I’ll have you know, I used to be a herbalist, and I sang to my plants every day.”

Drawn in by a breathtakingly soft voice, people began to flock to their stall.

You can’t be serious, Ainsworth complained in his head. Most of that song didn’t even rhyme!

Due to his natural lack of height, Seni would blink to moisten his eyes, then open them wide and stare upwards for a disgustingly endearing innocent expression. Once one was caught in his gaze, he’d then say in a high pitched voice, “Please, spare us a moment of your time.”

“I was apprehensive at first, but...hot damn!” Ainsworth exclaimed, counting coins while Seni was juggling four pots at once and shoveling popped kernels into bags made of tea leaves.

“I’m amazing, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are. Let’s see, since it’s the afternoon, we’ll probably have some bags to spare by the end of the day, but we ought to bring a couple more stacks tomorrow to make sure we don’t run out.”

“Phew. And here I was thinking I’d have to work after-hours in one of those whorehouses to make ends meet.”

“Just wondering, why can’t you eat any meat?”

Seni was thinly disguising his superhuman feats of cooking as nothing more than party tricks to entertain the crowd and managed to spin one of the pots on the tip of his finger before pouring the contents of it into more bags. “That’s a good question. My only explanation is that it’s some sort of genetic thing, like a birth defect. You know, like how some people are born without a limb or missing fingers? Come to think of it, maybe that’s why I’m so short and...feminine.”

Ainsworth remembered to speak in a hushed voice as to not reveal Seni’s identity as an immortal. “Huh. I always thought your type was perfect in that regard.”

Seni spun some more pots on his fingers to waft out the aroma even more. “Say that to any other immortal and you’d probably get your skull blown to pieces with a flick to your forehead. Fortunately for you, those days are behind me. Probably. Who knows, one day I might go on a skull-exploding rampage for no reason.”

“I hope that was a joke and not foreshadowing.”

Into the afternoon, the steady stream of customers began to grow as people got off work. Seni had been reaching for another bag just as the sun had set over the city walls, casting a great shadow over the rooftops. He grasped at empty air and realized that he had run out.

“Looks like we’re done, Ainsworth,” he said. “Guess it’s time to clock out. How much money did we make?”

Ainsworth was finishing up his coin counting and was sweeping all of the money into a box. “Certainly more than I do in a day. We’ve got...three hundred and twenty-one. Counting tips.”

Each serving sold for three coins, but when it came to the inclusion of tips, it was near impossible to gauge an accurate count on precisely how many customers they had served. 

Ainsworth proclaimed that it was either the aroma of the snacks or the initial flood of customers that attributed to their success. Or a combination of both. The scent would do well in drawing people in like moths to a flame, and a crowd of a dozen or so people gathering around a single stall would most definitely invoke curiosity in passers-by. In any case, he was grateful that Seni was somehow so good at singing about having a small penis.

“How come you didn’t just start a food stall in the first place? If the main attraction is you, wouldn’t you be fine no matter what you cooked? I’m sure you make more here than working at a restaurant.”

“Firstly, I don’t need a daily income of three hundred to survive, and working under any sort of decent management means paid leaves and insurance policies. I kind of expected to skip work a lot after coming here due to reasons involving a threat to my safety, and if I’m running a stall, I won’t be able to make money on those days.”

“I see.”

“Well. Now’s a good time to end as any. Min’s probably making his way back to the inn right now, so we ought to meet up,” Seni declared, picking up his cooking utensils.

Gradually, the customers began to disperse as well after noticing that they were packing up their equipment.

“...Is it fine to leave the stall here?” Ainsworth asked.

“Trust me, this place looks abandoned if you ever walk around here after-hours,” Seni answered. “Besides, even if it does get trashed, I have means of procuring another stall.”

For most of his time in Huan City, Ainsworth had worked and lived in his pub in the stone tower. He hadn’t been on ground level in a while and was in awe at how after the sun settled below the enormous city walls, everything was wreathed in shadows. 

The residents of this district were much more used to this daily routine than Ainsworth. Only a couple of minutes after the sun went down did the lights come alive. Most of them were magical metal lamps hanging from the rooftops that flickered on with a bright blue flame. In seconds, the city was as alive at night as it was in the daytime.

Min had been patiently waiting at their inn room by the time the two returned. He waved in greeting.

“Hey, since we’ve got three people, we’re gonna move to a room with three beds,” he said. “I’ve already gotten it done ahead of time.”

Ainsworth inwardly groaned at the prospect of unpacking his belongings once more but was glad not to spend another night sleeping on the floor.

Their new room had a bed that could fit two people, and another one that could only hold a single person. 

“Well, you sorry fucks can sleep together. I’m taking the single bed,” Seni declared, immediately piling his books (some of which were slightly burnt after his house had been blown up) and papers on the nightstand next to the smaller bed.

“Isn’t it kind of awkward when…” said Min, awkwardly pointing between him and Ainsworth. 

It was true. He hardly knew Ainsworth and hadn’t had the chance to talk with him much, unlike Seni, who had been getting used to the third person for the entire day.

“Min, you always grope my booty in the middle of the night when you’re having a dream or something. I know it’s tempting, but you better have some restraint if you don’t want to share a bed with Ainsworth.”

Min sighed, then shrugged and said, “Alright. C’mon and sit down on the bed, Ainsworth. Wanna, uh...do some icebreakers?”

While Ainsworth sat down, Seni had been approaching after changing into a revealing nightgown and plopped down next to Ainsworth as well, so he was stuck between the two men.

“Actually, skip the icebreakers,” said Seni, leaning into Ainsworth and gently kneading the muscles on his biceps. “Hey, why don’t you help us do what we brought you here for?”

“Wait, what?” Ainsworth replied dumbly.

Min smiled coldly and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Please, by all means. Tell us what you know about the Lianhua Syndicate. That’s a good start to get us real familiar with you, isn’t it?”

 

Taiwei took off her crimson hat and caressed the phoenix feather tucked into its side. She frowned. It was never the same since the heat had abruptly disappeared from the feather a couple of weeks ago. 

“So, what do you make of all this?” said a gruff voice behind her. 

She stopped herself from turning around and instead mulled over her glass of sake. “That voice...the great Huan himself, I presume?”

He snorted, then sat down on the barstool next to her. “Wow. I’m hurt.”

“Maybe the source of your arrogance comes from the fact that you’re named after this city?”

“Huan of Huan City! I wish I could change my name, but I guess it just sticks after growing up with it for my entire life. How goes?”

“Not much, surprisingly. Aside from my parents going all, ‘Ooh, Taiwei, when are you going to get a husband? Ooh, Taiwei, when are you going to settle down and retire from being a crime lord? Ooh, Taiwei, I want grandkids!’ and stuff. Precisely how am I meant to tell them that men seem to only want women with, what, G-cups?”

“For real? That’s damn unreasonable. Don’t northern women generally have like, flat chests and zero ass? I mean, I’d understand it if it was in the south, but...”

“Flat chests? That’s an exaggeration. Besides, who is to say that all breasts shouldn’t be cherished equally? G-cups are superior to B-cups? Who decided that? We can’t increase our butt size by exercising? Who decided that? No, I’ll be the one to decide.”

Huan raised his hand, and the bartender speechlessly gave him a glass of sake. “Hmm. I was kinda in the mood for tea, but whatever.”

She propped up her elbow on the table and leaned her cheek into her hand. “How dangerous is it, working with those gangsters?”

“Hard to say. They’ll stare daggers at you, but they also hold back if you bring an armed escort along. Six guards seem to do the trick.”

“Against an entire gang?”

“They have no reason to attack us. It’ll only be losses for them.”

“People can be unreasonable, especially in an environment where everyone gets drugged up now and then to escape their crappy reality. Besides, you do realize how much your elite guards’ equipment is worth to a fence, right?”

He fell silent and downed his glass. “Fine. Let’s say…”

Taiwei rolled her eyes, exasperated. She reached into her coat and gently placed a small vial of round pills on the bar counter.

Huan picked it up. “What’s this?”

“New drug. We call it limit-break. Your body gets flooded with adrenaline a couple of seconds after taking one.”

“Adrenaline?”

“Something your body produces when you enter a state of fight-or-flight. You know, I’ve found that after testing, we humans are surprisingly strong if we get pumped with adrenaline.”

“So this...adrenaline is supposed to boost your strength?”

“Not exactly. It can remove the natural limit on your strength. Hence the name we give the drug.”

Huan held it up to his eyes. “Alright, what’s the catch? It’s addictive? People get hooked on the power rush?”

“Surprisingly, no. You’ll become extremely sore after the end of the effect. It could put you out of commission for a while, even. There’s a reason why you won’t use your full strength all the time, as you’ll just hurt yourself if you do.”

“You...do realize that this pill could change war as we know it, right?”

She smirked and rubbed her fingers together to signal profit. “For the average infantryman? Absolutely. As for immortals, it’s rather unclear. In fact, I’m not even sure if they possess adrenaline at all.”

“Well, you know what they say. Seventy percent of the battle is praying that the immortal on your side beats the one on the other side.”

“Literally nobody says that. Huan, you haven’t even been in a battle for your entire life.”

“Alright. So, what about immortals not having this adrenaline thing? Why not? Aren’t they supposed to be just like us, but better in every way?”

“Oh, please. Since when have I been worthy of doubt? You know I do my research. If you were powerful enough to knock down a tower with a single strike, wouldn’t you be causing accidents all the time, like accidentally shattering a bottle by gripping it too hard, or smashing someone’s shoulder if you slapped them?”

“How are you so sure? You’re no immortal.”

Taiwei pointed at her eyes. “Observation, you cretin. Wouldn’t it be easy to figure out if you had just thought about it for a couple of minutes? If immortals can split mountains with ease, why are they also capable of playing musical instruments and weaving intricate tapestries? How do they write poetry and hold their brush without snapping it in half? As far as I know, in all likelihood, they can perfectly control their strength somehow.”

“I understood less than half of that, but I probably get what you’re saying.”

“If they can perfectly control their strength, then I don’t exactly see why they would need adrenaline if they can use their full power at all times in the first place. Understand? Comprehend?”

“Okay. I get it. Limit-break, huh? It’s like demon dust all over again.”

They both jumped in their seats when a hand clapped down on both of their shoulders.

Huan almost unsheathed the dagger strapped to the side of his hip, then realized that if whoever was behind them meant them harm, then they would have started by stabbing them through the collarbone.

“Did I send adrenaline through your body as well?” said a woman’s voice.

“Well, I’ll be! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Taiwei replied, turning around.

“Zhou Liuan!” Huan exclaimed. “Now all that’s left is that ponytail guy and we’ll have the entire squad. How long have you been here?”

Liuan, the woman from the meeting with the blue robes, flashed a warm smile and leaned down to flash her impressive cleavage. “So, I heard you screaming about breast size earlier.”

Taiwei turned her head and put on her hat. “Ugh...apologies, but I must go. I have business to attend to.”

Just as she was about to leave, Liuan caught her by the collar of her dragonleather coat and dragged her back with unexpected strength from those slim arms. “Ara, you’re not getting out of this one. Why don’t we go browse the marketplace tomorrow?”

“I’d rather-”

Liuan leaned into Taiwei’s shoulder and whispered into her ear, “I’ll give you all of my secrets about increasing your breast size.”

“Deal.”

“Ahh, I don’t got time for that. There’s business with a couple of gangs tomorrow,” Huan sighed, handing his empty glass to the bartender and dusting off his vest before picking himself up.

Before he left, Liuan bopped him on the head with her folded-up fan. 

“Grammar, Huan,” she criticized. “It’s ‘I don’t have time for that.’”

Huan left the bar, rubbing the top of his head and grumbling, “Who are you, my mother?”

She turned back to Taiwei. “So, I guess it’s girls’ day out tomorrow. I’ll be there by noon.”

“Yeah. That seems reasonable,” said Taiwei, nodding her head.

 

Deep into the night, Seni found himself unable to sleep. The information about the syndicate was truly troubling. Every creak, every sound made by a cicada or cricket seemed to be amplified a thousandfold.

The Lianhua Syndicate had dug its roots deep into this city. Ainsworth didn’t know the actual age of the organization but estimated it to be at least a century old. The leader, or leaders, were faceless entities that nearly nobody knew the identity of. Any boat in the harbor could belong to them and could have been smuggling illegal drugs into the city. Any hooker or prostitute hanging out under a streetlamp at night could be a spy. Even a beggar or a homeless child could just as easily be an agent.

“Well, this is one empire-sized pickled herring you’ve gotten yourself into,” said Warrior Seni, leaning against the frame of the bed.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Not you again.

“I’m always here, pal. You think you can just run from your past like that?”

You do realize this just makes it harder for me to sleep, right?

“And why is that? Maybe if you never got a hold of this ‘Librarian’s Brain’ thing in the first place, you wouldn’t be like this.”

Fuuuuuuck. What if the syndicate sends kidnappers after me because I know about cheating death? What if their leader also wants to live forever? 

“Y’know, uh, about last time...I’m sorry, man. The whole thing about having Min die to make you learn your lesson.”

Dude, I know you’re just a figment of my imagination or something. 

“Oh, shut up. But, I guess not getting any sleep would be pretty bad since we’re both the same people. So…”

Warrior Seni bent down and pulled Fashionable Seni out from under the bed. For some reason, Fashionable Seni was completely two dimensional and flatter than a pancake, but then he was shaken and jostled a couple of times, and popped back into having three dimensions.

“Go on,” he said. “Do your thing.”

“Uhm, o-okay,” Fashionable Seni replied nervously.

Then, he placed his hand on Seni’s cheek and began to hum a lullaby.

What in the world is - oh. I see how it is. This is the song my mom sang to me once. Now, I’ll have you know, nostalgia isn’t a substitute for a tranquiliz-

Seni was brutally assaulted by sleep before he could finish that thought.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was not in bed, nor was sunlight streaming through the windows as he expected.

First, the sheer heat hit him harder than a titanbeetle-drawn carriage. It was supposed to be autumn, and the air was relatively cool at their inn room.

Instead of laying on a mattress, he was standing on sand. Dry, hot sand that had been baked in the sun for far too long. 

Everywhere he looked was sand. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be standing in a small valley of the stuff. The sun was scorching hot and beat down on his back from overhead. He felt as if a trickle of sweat would have rolled down his face from his forehead at any moment, but it never happened.

In front of him stood a beautiful woman with a smug look on her face.

She had deep golden hair and scarlet eyes. A pair of fluffy ears stuck out on top of her head, and nine fox tails emerged from her behind.

What was most odd was her clothing. Patterns that resembled infinite spirals were all over her dress, and it ebbed and flowed like a cross between an ocean and a cloud flowing in the wind. The only difference was, there was not a single hint of a breeze in this eternal desert.

“Can I take a look?” she asked.

“You do realize that I’m taking a risk to trust you with this, right?” 

He extended his arms out, passing her a scroll. But his arms were not his arms. They were black as night, like burnt wood, skin with a craggy and flaky texture. Incredibly slender, so much so that they almost looked like toothpicks. His fingers were abnormally long, ending in pointed fingertips that possessed no fingernails. 

She unfurled it and widened her eyes. Her tails flicked and wavered while looking over the scroll. “I’m impressed.”

“I know you’re not the type of person to involve yourself in this. If it all goes wrong, I’m giving my collection to you.”

He tossed her a strange white jewel, carved in a manner that made it seem as if it had been twisted into a spiral shape. 

“You certainly aren’t very optimistic about this.”

“How could I, when the rest of them are the way that they are? Anyhow, do be sure to collect overdue books, alright? You’ll find the records in my desk drawer.”

He felt a tap on his shoulder and ignored it at first. Then, a rougher jostle spurred him to action. Whipping his body around, he suddenly found himself back in his bed, with someone staring over him.

“We’ve got a food stall to run, remember?” Ainsworth whispered.

Seni yawned, then sat up. He looked out of the window at the early sunlight that was lighting up their room in a dim glow. Min was still asleep, breathing softly while Ainsworth was quietly creeping around and attempting to change into his clothes without making any noise. 

A small tunic and a skirt were thrown onto Seni’s lap, and at first, he stared at his clothing in a stupor. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“That dream cannot be a good sign,” he groaned.

 

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