Chapter 103: Repurpose

“Let’s go…” The boss said and turned his back on Petrov.

The words were casual, almost dismissive, like this whole standoff, the snarling mouths and the bandanas and the weapons half-raised, had been nothing but a mild inconvenience in his morning routine. He turned away first, shoulders exposed, neck offered up in the simplest, most tempting way possible.

The latter saw the opening; if he was half the man Kael thought he’d be, the leader of the Snakes, in that moment, he would have struck down the Sun Clan boss. One good blow to the back of the head and the whole clan would lose their leader. Ensuing chaos would immediately secure the Snakes’ victory, and they could easily take over the first floor.

Kael’s eyes stayed forward, but his brain did that fast, ugly tally it always did: distance, angle, weapon reach, reaction time. The boss was close enough that Petrov wouldn’t even need to swing, a shove, a slam, a cheap strike with the butt of an axe. Anything. If Petrov was the kind of man who lived by the obvious play, the Sun Clan’s leader wouldn’t have even finished the word go.

Kael waited for it anyway.

A breath too long. A heartbeat where the street felt quieter than it should have been. Even the rubble seemed to hold still.

The restraint came with a visible cost. Petrov’s jaw clenched so tight Kael could see the muscle jump at his cheek. His hand tightened on whatever he carried, tightened, then forced itself to loosen. Like the impulse had teeth, and he had to pry them off his own wrist.

The boss looked at Kael and understood immediately what he was thinking of.

“Sometimes, it’s best not to take the obvious bait. It isn’t that he’s a coward or a fool, but he’s been burned too many times to try that again.” The boss said, actually sounding like a good leader for once. Almost.

The boss didn’t say it for Petrov. He said it for Kael. He said it like a lesson, like I know what you’re thinking, and I know what he’s thinking, and I know how this game is played.

After all, if he didn’t pull that shit on Kael, almost costing him his life, then maybe Kael could have followed under him. Maybe.

Kael didn’t let that thought sit too long. It was poison in a different bottle. The kind you drank because you wanted

it to be water.

Kael walked with the group, not trusting anyone, but at the same time not letting it show.

His posture stayed loose on purpose. Not slouched, just not tense enough to look guilty, not alert enough to look like prey. He let his gaze wander like a man who belonged. Kept his steps in rhythm with theirs, not too fast, not too slow. The kind of small acting choices that kept knives out of your ribs.

The whole clan headed back spare for a couple that were assigned with mere glances from the boss to stake the higher buildings and stay waiting.

They peeled off without a word, slipping through broken doorframes and up half-collapsed stairwells like they’d done it a hundred times already. Scouts. Overwatch. Insurance.

The Snakes did the same. Assigning people to stake out the shop and stay in separate buildings, waiting for anyone to try and attempt a foolish fast one on the boss.

Kael caught the movement in his periphery, shadows becoming silhouettes behind shattered windows, heads turning just enough to watch the streets. A quiet reminder that the contract didn’t mean trust. It meant terms.

After crossing half the distance, the Boss turned to Kael and asked. “You did good surviving the night. I sent a few of my people yesterday to see if you can make it. I heard they ditched you there alone.” The Boss said.

The confession slid out smoothly, like it was supposed to make Kael feel seen. Like it was supposed to make him grateful they’d bothered to check at all.

Kael felt his jaw tighten, just slightly, then forced it to relax.

He turned to Peter, who looked away sheepishly.

Peter’s eyes dropped more to the broken pavement as it had suddenly become interesting. His shoulders hunched a fraction, the posture of someone who’d been caught doing something ugly but didn’t want to say it out loud.

“Nah, I’d have done the same,” Kael said.

He said it flat, like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t still remember getting shoved out into night. Like he didn’t still feel the arrow in his shoulder and the ground under his face when he had to go low.

“Ah,” the Boss smiled, as if all forgotten and forgiven, “Good, you’re a team player. That’s how it should be. Don’t hold grudges if someone can’t help you because they wanted to save themselves. Also, never save anyone else if it risks your own life. That stuff, you can leave it for the heroes of TV. They love doing that. It pays them well, we’re all dead here, it serves us nothing.”

Kael listened, and part of him hated how reasonable it sounded. Not the cruelty, he already knew cruelty. The logic behind it. The way it wrapped itself in practicality and called itself wisdom.

He swallowed the bitterness down. If he showed it, the boss would smell it like blood.

Kael had to agree despite the displeasure of having to talk to the Sun clan boss.

He didn’t nod too eagerly. Didn’t argue. Just let the words pass, filed away, as this is who you are dealing with.

“So? Tell us, what did you see?” The Boss asked as they walked.

The street narrowed between collapsed facades, the kind of alley that funneled sound. Their boots crunched over rubble and glass, and every now and then a loose stone skittered down a slope into darkness.

Kael kept track of where they were relative to open lines of sight, windows, rooftops, and the gaps where a bowman could sit.

“Basilisk. Big one. Can barely fit the tunnel system.” Kael said as he tried to weigh his words.

He measured each sentence like it had a price tag. Too little and they’d push. Too much, and he’d hand them the knife to cut him later.

He didn’t want to give them an advantage over the snakes. He wanted both of them to compete fair and square, so he needed to choose his next words.

“It lives deeper in the tunnel system, though, couldn’t do much more than take a quick glance at its hideout, got a skin from one of its hatchlings, and almost lost an arm for it.”

He let the words hang there. A little ugly reminder that the tunnel wasn’t a treasure chest you walked into and looted. It bit back.

“Any weaknesses?” the Boss asked.

There it was. The real question. Not where. Not how big. Not what it looked like. How do we kill it?

“I couldn’t figure out much,” Kael said.

He watched the boss’s face tighten, small, controlled, but there. Displeasure, impatience. The boss wanted certainty. Kael didn’t have the luxury of giving it.

He noticed the displeasure on the Boss’s face. “But what I do know is, it’s highly resistant to flames,” Kael said.

He dropped that like a stone into still water. Let it ripple.

“Oh, and how did you figure that out?” the boss asked.

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