Aptitude test!

The girl hesitated for just a moment before snapping into action and following his lead. Taking advantage of the distraction, both of them bolted out of the alley, heading straight for the plaza.

"Over here!" Zarek took the first turn he saw, scanning for a place to hide. That's when his eyes landed on a second-hand clothing stall, racks of worn clothes hanging out front.

"Grab something and put it on!" he ordered without a second thought, snatching a long coat, with a clown wig and slipping into the store without bothering to pay. The girl, still visibly confused, did the same, picking up a thick shawl to cover her eye-catching outfit.

As the stall owner shouted something about paying for the merchandise, Zarek leaned in and whispered:

"We stay here for a minute, act like we're browsing, and when enough time has passed, we walk out nice and easy. Got it?"

She nodded, still nervous but following his plan.

From his spot, Zarek had a clear view of the alley they had just escaped from. Seconds later, the imposing figure of the Conjurer stepped out of the darkness, fists clenched, his face twisted in fury… and covered in garbage.

His head darted side to side as he scanned the area, searching for his prey, but it didn't seem like he had any clue where they had run off to.

Zarek held his breath. If that brute even suspected they were nearby, there wouldn't be a second chance.

After what felt like an eternity, the man grumbled something under his breath and stomped off, still cursing and shaking off the filth from his clothes. Zarek waited a moment longer before finally letting out a relieved sigh.

"Well… that was educational," he muttered, glancing at the girl. "And now, before you say anything…"

She looked at him expectantly.

"I think you owe me a damn explanation."

Zarek spat out blood and ripped off the clown disguise in one swift motion, tossing aside the hat and glasses the woman had borrowed. He gave the shop owner a quick nod of thanks, completely ignoring the string of curses being hurled at him. Without wasting time, he grabbed the woman by the arm and led her away, heading for the nearest fountain. They needed to get out of the danger zone in case that wild gorilla decided to double back.

Only when he finally sat on the edge of the limestone fountain did he take a breath and start assessing the damage to his face. At the same time, he kicked off his interrogation.

"What the hell did you steal? And who are you?"

The woman, who had been quiet until now, tilted her head with a lopsided grin.

"I was just passing through. Got a little lost while looking for someone. Actually, he looks a lot like you."

Zarek frowned.

"Me?"

The woman pulled out a small digital tablet and, with a casual flick, showed him a crystal-clear photo of himself.

"No... please, no..."

A shiver ran down Zarek's spine. No way. No fucking way. But there it was—the proof. This chick was his intermediary.

"The Hacker… sent you?"

"I'm…"

Zarek hesitated for a second, spat out another mouthful of blood, and finally finished the sentence.

"Zarek. Your client."

The woman's eyes sparked with recognition.

"Ah, that explains a lot! But why do you sound so disappointed?"

"What do you mean why?!?" Zarek clenched his teeth. "You're a walking disaster. Not only did you steal from a goddamn Conjurer, but you were dumb enough to get caught up in that mess."

The woman simply crossed her arms, unfazed.

"Whatever. Name's Nero, and I'm here to collect the payment for the transaction between my employer and you, Zarek. Here's proof I'm not bullshitting you."

Just like that, her clumsy act disappeared. It was like she flipped a switch—her posture turned sharp, her gaze professional. She pulled up a digital log and presented it with expert precision.

Zarek stared at the screen, dumbfounded. His personal information, stamped with a big official seal from the Ministry of Public Security.

He blinked. Well… that cleared up any doubts about her legitimacy.

"Alright. Let's get this over with. Payment first—that was the deal your boss set up."

"Why—"

Before he could finish, Nero cut him off with a smooth wave of her hand.

"Don't trust that guy. He's slippery—fast, like a rat. Make sure he pays you at least 95% of the agreed amount first. Then, and only then, hand over the record and collect the last 5%."

"What?"

Nero's expression shifted back to a businesslike demeanor.

"That's what my employer said. So that's what we're doing. If you don't agree with the payment terms, I walk."

Zarek rubbed his temple, exasperated.

"Wait, wait—I'm not keeping up with you, lady!"

"Wow! Maybe that hit to your face rattled your brain."

"Hey! I don't think so...—No! Actually, no!"

He got to his feet, running through the situation again in his head.

"So… the Hacker told you that, huh?"

"That's right."

"And… what was with the whole act?"

"For credibility. Reputation is important in my line of work."

Zarek was about to argue how ridiculous that was, but instead, he just sighed and gave up.

"Ugh, whatever. Let's just get this done. I already figured out you're missing a few screws."

"Rude. But I'll let it slide since you're still in shock."

Without further argument, Zarek pulled out the payment: chunks of solid Au extracted from the Rift. Highly valuable—and illegal without the proper permits. He had no intention of selling it on the black market. Not when that could put Rose in danger. Better to let the Hacker do whatever the hell he wanted with it.

Nero checked the transaction and handed over the record. She leaned in—way too close. Zarek flinched when her hand brushed against his back and immediately shoved the last piece of payment at her.

"Take it. Let's never see each other again."

"Excuse me?"

"That's how we say goodbye."

No doubt about it—this woman was weird as fuck. But one question still nagged at him.

"You never answered me. Why did you steal from him?"

Nero smiled, completely unfazed.

"For fun? He seemed easy to piss off…"

Zarek felt his eye twitch. The audacity. The sheer nerve.

"Oh, catch. A gift from me."

She tossed something at him. He barely managed to catch it—golden knuckle dusters, etched with strange inscriptions.

"What the hell is this?"

When he looked up, Nero was already gone.

Shaking the blood off his clothes, Zarek glanced at his busted watch.

Shit. The Trial was about to start.

Stuffing the knuckle dusters into his pocket, he suddenly felt something odd in his back pocket.

"Huh… weird… I could've sworn I had my wallet…"

Then he remembered Nero.

"Goddamn it…"

With no other choice, he took off running toward the Ministry of the Arcane.