Kaiz clutched the bag to his chest, “That ain’t the deal. You got the cloaks.” 

Someone behind him spoke up, “Don’t make this trouble.”

Murmurs about just killing him and moving on proliferated through the mob. Most seemed in agreement, some even had the balls to inch towards him. Kaiz kept his eyes on Conan though. He knew this was mostly a bluff. They wouldn’t kill him or cause any permanent harm, but there were a number of nonlethal things they could do. They could threaten to take off his mask. Would Conan actually push that far? He didn’t know, but he valued his anonymity too much to risk it. 

He dropped the bag.

“Good boy.” 

A goon picked it up and handed it to Conan. He untied it, still staring at Kaiz, and rummaged through. It only took a few moments for his eyes to light up. He chuckled to himself, “What we have ‘ere?”

He pulled out a diamond-shaped, iron badge with an orb embedded in the center, “A Nurfium Star, huh?”

Kaiz looked away as Conan continued to inspect the item. He knew the orb’s true color was something akin to a rainbow, but it merely shone a dull white for him.  

“This would get’em to move two Nightwatchers.”

Conan dropped the badge back in the bag and handed it to another of his lackeys, “Consider yourself lucky. This’ll pay for the men you’ve cost us.” 

Before the bastard let Kaiz go though, he signalled to someone behind him. It didn’t take long for Kaiz to find a foot on his spine. He tried to stay on his feet, aware the attack was coming, but the power forced him to his knees. Another kick came soon after, this one more of a stomp.

“Tell Viz if he tries this shit again, he won’t be lucky.”

Threat made, Conan and his goons left him to writhe on the ground. With the two Nightwatchers’ corpses looted, they moved to picking up the fallen members of their gang. Kaiz couldn’t be a hundred percent sure from where he laid, but he counted at least fifteen of them scattered across the ground. Most wore the same chitin armor, marking them as Conan’s enforcers. Conan himself donned a similar, stronger set. It wasn’t enchanted, but it might as well have been. Famed around the north for being unbreakable, the crack along its back was noteworthy. 

The sight made Kaiz smile inwardly. Tonight would hurt Conan’s operations for months. Even if he got some temporary hands, he’d have to scale back his activity for a while. That alone was worth far more than the contents of his bag. Sadly, that knowledge in no way soothed the back pain. 

Guess messing up with the Nightwatchers worked out. 

Not willing to wait around for anyone to get particularly sore on that subject, he labored to his feet. He quickly dust himself off and lumbered into the dark, his job complete for the night. 

Or so he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of light. Someone was following him.

Just great. Now I have to go the long way. 

Instead of heading home, Kaiz wandered into his crew’s little slice of the slums. While not all of the Zones was terrible, the areas immediately adjacent to the wall were rather decent, the vast majority of it was. There were no roads out here, just misshapen paths usually filled with garbage and debris. This far from the wall and the main street, those ‘paths’ were just wherever homes weren’t, and those ‘homes’ were anything with at least one wall and ceiling. Every time he had to walk down these paths, it reinvigorated him. He refused to live like this, never again. 

Two or three minutes later, he walked into the part of their turf they had actively rebuilt. Paths got wider, buildings got sturdier, and street lanterns got more frequent. It was still the same slums he knew, just a bit more civilized. 

It’s 2:16. Who’d be there now? Lamar’s tracking a shipment. Code’s probably passed out in a pool of piss somewhere. 

Kaiz went through the list of people that would be at the closest hideout. It didn’t look promising. There were only three people in the crew besides Viz that knew Kaiz. The rest just knew that he was a runner and he never took off his mask. His body ached and his mind lagged. Now was not the time to have to play mysterious. Beggars couldn’t be choosers though. 

Fate sealed, he trudged towards the hideout anyway. He took some wrong turns and wide paths to at least give the appearance of caution. He even threw in some curious peeks over the shoulder for good measure. His stalker’s location was never truly in doubt. Enchanted gear rarely found its way this deep into the slums, and whatever the stalker wore, it shone just as brightly as a Nightwatcher’s cloak. 

He wasn’t worried they were one, though. Nightwatchers were strictly male, and the person tailing him was decidedly female. The real question was, what group did they belong to? Was it a gang? A noble? A merchant? A guild? They were very careful with the jobs they took and the people they crossed. Corpses had no use for gold. Strategically picking their battles was a core principle of their crew.

Well...it used to be. That’s out of the window now.

Nevertheless, the retaliation for this job wouldn’t come for a while, if it came at all. They’d set Conan up to take the heat if it did come. No one would believe they’d take on and defeat three Nightwatchers, but nothing was a surety. To move up in the world risk-taking was inevitable.

Hopefully, Conan doesn’t tell Snake about the second Nightwatcher. We’re putting a lot of faith in his greed. He should be desperate to keep the nurfium to himself, especially if he has to do a bit of reshuffling, but Snake won’t buy that one Nightwatcher killed fifteen of Conan’s men. He may just be forced to spill. Ugh. So many unknown factors, so many ris—huh?  

Kaiz peeked behind him. His tracker had disappeared, or at least the glow from their gear had. He calmly scanned his surroundings, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. No. The coast seemed genuinely clear. Not one to be anything less than thorough, he circled back around to the last place he saw them. He carefully inspected the area, but found no trace of them. They didn’t even leave footsteps in the sand. 

He sighed.

Another unknown.

Without a pursuer, there was no point in taking the roundabout way back. He ignored his exhaustion as best he could, but his brain and body were steadily shutting down. Distraction-less, there were no barriers stopping it from overwhelming him. Sleep called for him with the sweetest, most sultry voice. Thankfully, home wasn’t too far away.

A handful of minutes later, he spotted the inconspicuous little tree his hideout hid below.

Home sweet home. 

He pulled out a winter battery and activated the camouflaged rune at the base of the tree. The hidden trap door slowly lifted up before flashing red. Someone was inside. Kaiz instantly blinked alertness back into his eyes. If he had the energy, he’d run for backup, but he knew if he even thought of moving at a pace quicker than a leisurely walk he’d collapse. Hells, if he stood there long enough he’d collapse. Alas, leaving wasn’t an option. He’d have to face this threat head on. He could only hope his one trump card would be enough. 

Gradually, he tiptoed down into his home. No one waited for him at the entrance, but there stood another door between it and his actual living space. He snuck up to it and waited. No noise escaped from within. There was a peephole, but it was exactly designed for use on this side of the door. He knew candles burned within at least. Whoever it was that occupied his home, they weren’t skulking in the dark.  

Kaiz took a final deep breath and burst through the door. Both his hands and jaw dropped at the scene that welcomed him.

“Finally. You’re always so slow.” The man mocked.

Sat at his desk, a very recognizable back casually read a book. Stress briefly overtook his exhaustion, but he immediately shook it off. He just wouldn’t acknowledge the man’s existence. Instead, he crashed into his bed. With only enough energy left in the tank to slip off his mask, the rest of his outfit stayed on. Sleep would find him either way.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leave me alone, I’m tired.”

There was no immediate response, but he could hear the legs of his chair scraping against the ground. A silent sigh escaped his lips. As far as Kaiz was concerned, he was done for the night. He just successfully outran Nightwatchers. At night. He deserved some rest. 

What the hell is he doing here, anyway. Code gets to drink away after his missions, but I can’t get some sleep?!

Busy lamenting, he failed to notice the open bottle above his head. Before he could, a freezing cold sensation assaulted him. He leapt out of bed, yelping in surprise. As soon as he got to his feet, however, the sensation disappeared. Rejuvenation replaced it. It was only skin deep. He could still feel the pain in his bones, but he didn’t feel as fatigued. He felt relaxed, hydrated too. 

He looked at the man hovering over his bed with an empty bottle in hand, “An oasis potion? That’s a waste.” 

“Depends on what you have to tell me.”

Kaiz sighed, “And this couldn’t wait a few hours?”

The man smirked, “Not anymore. You want that potion to go to waste?”

The desire to scream invaded Kaiz’s very soul, but he sedated it. Mostly.

Baaastard!

“Fine! But you better write this down, I’m taking a break for the next month!”

The man’s smirk turned into full-blown laughter, “Sure you are!” 

They both sat down and Kaiz began recounting the details of the job. From infiltrating and robbing the store to hiding the goods and being followed, he chronicled the events with an uncanny thoroughness. Once he finished, they discussed all the failures and successes of the job. The jovial atmosphere, present only a few minutes prior, was nowhere to be seen.

Three days later, Kaiz once again suspended a tiny winter battery over a rune as he took down notes. 

“Configuration 12D, battery 2A. Attempt 3.”

Once again, he spent over half an hour staring at nothing. 

Well, that’s the last of the ink. 

He sat back in his chair and turned his eyes to the ceiling. Worse than the feeling of failure, not knowing whether he made any progress suffocated him. Was this series any better than the last? Was 12D better than 2D? Was he getting closer or further? Was it even possible to get closer? Did anything he did matter? Were tanlars doomed to forever be second class? Was he just wasting his time on a pointless pipedream? All of these questions churned in his mind.

“Ah!” 

He planted both of his palms on his face. 

…

He was silent for a moment.

... 

Then he yelled, “I will do this!” 

He kept his face covered for a few extra minutes as he took deep breaths. Eventually, he calmed down. His mind still wasn’t clear, but his conviction was. At least enough to get back to work. He raised the tong and removed the rune. Before sliding it into a folder, he verified that it perfectly matched the one in his notes. It did. Once safely tucked away, he moved to design a new rune. Then he remembered the ink issue.  

What time is it?

“19?! Where did all the time go?”

He dashed from his desk, nearly tripping on his own chair. Shops closed at 20. He only had an hour to get into the city. That was a race he would most likely lose. The distance itself wasn’t a problem, even without his boots he could cover it fairly quickly. It was the guards at the gate that would slow him down. As soon as the sun started setting, they got very uppity about security. 

Just as he opened his inner door, he heard a knock on his tree. After waiting a moment, they knocked again. Kaiz paused, waiting for the final confirmation. The third knock was far fainter than the previous two. They didn’t knock on the wood of the tree, but on a small metal plate embedded into it. 

Huh. Who could this be? 

He walked back to his desk and took out a bigger winter battery. It was still tiny, about as big as two fingers, but it held substantially more mana. He touched it against a rune on the wall and allowed the mana to flow through. The trap door slowly lifted, allowing the warm glow of twilight to peek through. The face that followed ruined it, though. 

It belonged to an aged old man that looked no older than thirty. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake him for a young, handsome bachelor. In his customary fashion, he wore a full set of enchanted apparel. Everything down to his jeweled earrings had been enchanted. His now infamous long black robe seemed to have added even more gold etchings. It covered him from his neck, which was masked by necklaces, to his ankles, which also had some sort of jewelry attached. Gaudy couldn’t begin to describe him. 

He looked extra funny walking into Kaiz’s simple, earthly home. 

“Crypt.”

“Your petty attempts at insulting me will never reap the rewards you wish.”

Kaiz scoffed, “Why would I waste energy insulting a dying man?”

“I assure you, you’ll pass from this world long before I do.”

Crypt, real name Christopher, was a wily old businessman that had close ties to the orphanage Kaiz spent time in. Though a mere tanlar, his wealth was immense. So much so he lived in a lavish mansion within the city walls. He paid many bribes for such a luxury decades ago, but now he held enough power to solidify his position. It helped that he had dirt on every noble this side of the Screaming Sands. 

Kaiz despised him. Not for his wealth, nor the means by which he amassed it, but for his treatment of other tanlars. He treated them worse than most titleds treated them, below trash and below consideration. Unless, of course, they could make him money. 

“Is that a threat?”

Crypt chuckled, “No. It’s a prophecy. But enough of your games. You may be a boy, but you have the responsibilities of a man.”

“Rich from an eighty-year-old man pretending to be thirty.”

“I have never claimed an age other than my own, you on the other hand..”

Kaiz didn’t have a response for that. He was young, younger than most people knew, younger than anyone would assume, younger than anyone his height, build, and disposition had any right to be. A mere fourteen years had passed since his birth. 

He masked it well. Only a small handful of people knew the truth. Even those that knew him as Kaizer and had seen his face could only guess at what his age was. The most assumed number was twenty, the same age as Viz. He ran with it. Better to be seen as a young man than as a child. He had the behavior and features to match, anyway.

Crypt was there when Kaiz first showed up at the orphanage, however. An ignorant nine-year-old, he saw no reason to lie. He had been big for his age then, but nothing as drastic as what he was today. Now he was well on his way to six feet tall, muscular, had a sharp jawline and the makings of a beard. 

Crypt sat in Kaiz’s chair while he glared at him in annoyance. He looked towards Kaiz’s rune with mild contempt, “Still fascinated with runes, are you? Anyway, I’m not here to quip with you, I’m here to discuss your recent activities and what they represent to my interests.”

What? He can’t possibly know about the Nightwatcher run. 

Right?