Chapitre 7: Me?

"Hello." A voice drifts from the shadows, smooth and taunting. Instinctively, I draw my hidden dagger and press it right to the neck of the intruder.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," the figure chuckles, unfazed. I recognize that smug tone, and my guard lowers just slightly.

"Viper," I say, narrowing my eyes as he steps forward into the dim light, pulling back his hood to reveal his smirk.

The infamous Viper, no one knows his true name—not many, anyway. Most know him as a shadowy figure in the fortress's underbelly, a well-connected informant working for the Eye, the largest information guild. They're everywhere, in every sector, eyes in every shadow. But he's more than just Viper to me. We grew up together, knew each other back when things were even rougher, sure we almost killed each other one or two times but who hasn't in sector Z?

"Ben," I say, finally lowering my blade.

"Always so dangerous, Daelan." He smirks, brown hair falling messily over his honey-colored eyes that glint mischievously in the low light.

"Maybe you should stop sneaking up on people," I mutter, not hiding my irritation.

He only snickers, completely at ease in the way that only he can be. He casts a quick glance at the twins, offering a half-hearted, "If it isn't the twins. How's work?"

Of course, they ignore him. Korin's head barely turns, and Kirelle scoffs, unimpressed. I sigh.

"What do you want, Ben?" I ask, getting straight to the point. I know better than to expect a social call.

Ben steps in closer, draping an arm around my shoulder like we're old friends sharing drinks rather than two men with a dagger and secrets between them.

"Remember our times together on the streets?" he says, voice lowering, laced with nostalgia I'm not buying.

"You're being suspicious," I mutter, though I don't shake his arm off.

He just snickers, unfazed. "I'm here on business," he finally admits, his fingers slipping into his jacket to pull out a card with a golden trim. He waves it in front of me like it's some prize.

"What's this?" I ask, eyeing it but not reaching for it.

Ben's grin widens as he slides the card into my jacket pocket, his face far too close. "You, my friend, have caught the fancy of a very wealthy lady," he whispers, amused. "And she wants you."

I roll my eyes. Typical Ben, always dragging me into his little games.

"And she wants you," Ben repeats, sliding the card into my jacket pocket with a self-satisfied grin.

"What am I supposed to do about that?" I ask, genuinely thrown. Usually, offers like this go to people like Korin and Kirelle. Elves are prized here in Sector Z, practically status symbols for those with enough power and money to flaunt them. I've heard it's different in the inner sectors, where they've got some notion of equality, but here? Good looks are more of a curse than a blessing. I'd assumed my reputation would keep me out of requests like these.

"Don't be like that," Ben purrs, moving in closer, his motions smooth and serpentine. He lives up to his moniker: Viper. I try to ignore him, brushing him off, but he's persistent.

"Fine, fine," he continues, his voice dropping to a tone of faux sincerity. "I'm just saying, this could really change your life. You wouldn't believe how many doors one wealthy client could open for you."

"I could take the request," Korin volunteers, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Yeah, Daelan hasn't sunk that low," Kirelle adds, a touch of pride in her voice.

"Yet," Ben cuts in, smirking.

Kirelle scowls, but Ben barely acknowledges it, brushing it off with a wave. "Besides," he says, leaning back with that infuriating grin, "she specifically wants you, Daelan. Not just anyone. Not an elf, not another pretty face—she asked for you. Crimson hair, violet eyes, that endlessly gloomy vibe… all of it." He shrugs, as if he doesn't get the appeal himself.

Honestly, neither do I. Me?