(Mara's POV)

After a long and somewhat strenuous process of repeatedly bitching back and forth with Gray, our outstanding party's pompous porter, I finally slipped out of my exquisite apartment. He oozed trouble from the moment I met him—the kind that drags others into his own mess.

Natasha's wording, not mine. Perhaps she was jealous her spot was taken.

Despite this, even after accidentally discovering his hefty secret along with his desire to attend Artemis, I kept most of my actual thoughts to myself. A part of me felt sorry for him. We're oddly similar. That's why I didn't pursue the matter further and waited for him to speak up on his own. I'm curious but not in a hurry to hear it out of his mouth just yet. Gray won't be able to postpone the problem indefinitely. Until then, I'll take joy in his silence.

Perhaps he, too, was aware that I had worked everything out. Even the things that were left unsaid. Oh well, I'm sure he has some convenient explanation to toss my way, and I'll probably believe it, resulting in me becoming an utter moron.

"A boy shouldn't be as secretive as a girl, though..."

That reminds me of how many ladies are missing from our group. I really miss our former party's porter... Ava as well! Don't get me wrong, I have no personal beef with the boys (except for that meathead, Logan), but being the only girl is just awkward. I couldn't wait to get out of this shit hole, get some signal for my phone, and deliver a 'simple' message to them as I often do.

Although I'd love to tell them how much I missed them and all that emotional nonsense, I'd rather send a text that irritates whilst assuring them of my well-being. A result of my delectable personality, I'm convinced.

After leaving a hastily emptied apartment, I went on methodically across the corridor, my mind still unable to think of anything other than those I'm close with. Even while probing the other neighbors I couldn't focus much on the task at hand. The exhaustion was finally catching up to me.

Recently, we even got a new addition to the Hawkes. A new chick, Lucas. His unexpected appearance only happened because of Oliver's unannounced absence.

Fucker, almost ruined everything by not doing anything.

Anyways, Lucas reacted just as I believed the enigmatic Gray would when I initially learned of his involvement with our party. I was devastated when I realized Natasha wouldn't be joining us because of some problems, instead being replaced by some boy I'd never spoken to.

Despite my reservations, I agreed to participate. The results weren't as profitable as I had hoped, but what we won after splitting the money still moved me one step closer to my inevitable retirement from the life of a mercenary.

And, to be honest, I don't regret going.

I love scouting ahead. There was a subtle splendor to be found in the ruins surrounding us. It's simply that, aside from wanting to do something else for a living—to pursue my passion—I'm afraid of monsters.

Unlike civilians, we are running toward peril, not away from it.

It wasn't the threat of death that made my heart skip a beat. I saw them; countless lives destroyed by the Overflow. Families torn apart. I pitied them, but none of them made me as nervous as some of the horrors that may happen in my line of work. Things that might directly affect me.

To some extent, I could bear their awful facades, but their blatant viciousness drives the final nail in the coffin. Some creatures are not content with simply killing you and eating your carcass. No. They'd rather take you alive, deprive you of every ounce of human decency you have, then prolong your agony even longer for their own twisted amusement.

Death doesn't scare me, I could declare that with confidence to whoever asked.

And yet, if I were to die, then I'd like to do so in an instant.

I know, it's insane to discard your life like that, but please, do keep in mind; there are no mentally healthy mercenaries. Not a single one as far as I'm concerned.

Gray has trouble sleeping at night. Logan chuckles while slaughtering monsters. Edward has become so numb that he scarcely shows any emotion. I'm convinced Lucas' hiding something as well. And I? I'm preoccupied with my own issues.

There are also dreadful individuals. Exceptions among exceptions. Scavengers. Psychopaths why do not mind preying on their fellow for profit. Even among them, I think some may be persuaded. Natasha, on the other hand, despises such people.

As for monsters? There was no room for debate. Even those tamed by hunters could not be regarded as truly and definitely safe to be around. They're simply obeying the force that threatens their own existence. Without power, those so-called bonds, they'd be no different.

"Hah..." I exhaled, let down my guard for a split second, and smacked my sunken cheek. "Let's put such awful thoughts aside for now. Pay attention, idiot," I admonished myself. "Money and jewelry equal happiness. Simple, correct?"

Besides that objective, there was something else I wanted to check. I had to. I used to live here before the Overflow. Throughout my humble career as a mercenary, I made trustworthy companions, but I also had pals here.

One of them just happened to be living in the same building as me. Visiting her place and offering a short prayer was the least I could do. After that, I'd have no problems tearing this whole place down in my quest for cash.

We were, hmm, how should I put it? Childhood friends? Yeah. That seems to be adequate enough.

I came to a halt and spun around toward the opaque door, my stiff shoulders falling into the alert stance of someone facing a bitter enemy. It was about time to ask myself a silly question.

"Should I break it down or try to open it first?"

I began to wonder whether this door could withstand one of my undeniably terrific kicks, but it opened as soon as I nudged the handle. And here I thought I'd get a chance to stretch my muscles.

What a bummer...

I took a short step forward, then scowled as a powerful, really awful odor penetrated my nostrils. I've always been sensitive to things like this, whether it's dust on the furniture or the choking perfume some ladies wear and I inhale as they pass by on the street.

I pushed further into the apartment, one palm covering my entire lower jaw while the other rested on the tilt of my saber. I glanced from left to right, bug shivers hammering loudly in my ears as a concealed force straggled me. This place? The same as before. The positioning of the furniture has not changed in the least since I visited as a kid.

My teary eyes trembled in recognition as my line of sight fell to the gap leading into the bathroom. My abdominal muscles tightened and gastric acid threatened to stream out my lips before my brain could process and even connect the thoughts. I figured it out a second after eventually. The source of this awful stench? Obvious. Anyone could figure it out. Even a snobbish child.

My friend was the cause of it all.