Decision

The cobblestone streets of the marketplace bustled with life, The air carried the aroma of freshly baked bread from the baker's corner, mingling with the tang of coal smoke wafting from a blacksmith's forge. Xin strolled through the crowd, his eyes scanning the myriad stalls and shops with a purposeful gait.

He paused in front of a display at a quaint photography store, the glass window showcasing sleek black cameras with polished brass accents. One camera, in particular, caught his eye—a Rolleiflex model, elegant and sturdy. He imagined Belial with it, crouched in some forgotten ruin, capturing the fragments of history that fascinated him so much. A wry smile tugged at the corner of Xin's mouth.

"This is perfect," Xin muttered to himself. He remembered Belial's excitement whenever he spoke of ancient relics and places.

The shopkeeper, a thin man with round glasses perched on his nose, appeared behind the counter. "Fine piece, isn't it? Top of the line," he said, his voice tinged with pride.

"How much?" Xin asked.

The shopkeeper quoted a price that made Xin wince inwardly. It was steep, but he didn't hesitate. "I'll take it."

The man wrapped the camera in a protective cloth and placed it into a leather carrying case. Xin handed over a stack of bills, his wallet lighter but his heart unexpectedly content. He slung the case over his shoulder and continued through the marketplace, the camera swinging gently at his side.

Xin arrived at Jia's shop just as the bells above the door jingled softly. The shop smelled of fresh paint and sawdust, and the shelves were lined with tools and small mechanical parts. Jia stood by a half-assembled shelf, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a screwdriver in hand. Her short, cropped hair was pinned back, revealing a face streaked with grease and determination.

"Finally," she said without looking up. "You're late."

"Good to see you too, Jia," Xin replied, grinning as he set the camera case aside and rolled up his sleeves.

Together, they worked to finish setting up the shop. Xin handed her tools while she secured the final bolts on the shelf. The rhythmic clink of metal against wood echoed in the quiet shop. Outside, the rumble of a truck pulling up broke the monotony.

"That'll be the rest of the shipment," Jia said, dusting off her hands and heading toward the door.

The driver climbed down, tipping his hat before opening the back of the truck. Inside were crates filled with replacement parts for body repairs—arms, legs, even mechanical joints. Jia's shop wasn't just a tinkerer's haven; it was a lifeline for those who had lost limbs to accidents or illness.

Xin and Jia unloaded the crates, carefully stacking them in the back room. By the time they were done, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet.

With the shop ready, all that was left was to spread the word. Jia handed Xin a stack of flyers, each one meticulously designed to highlight the shop's services.

"You're the charmer," she said with a smirk. "Go win us some customers."

Xin scoffed but took the flyers, shoving them into his coat pocket. "Fine, but you're coming with me."

Jia groaned but grabbed her coat, and the two of them headed back to the marketplace. The streets were quieter now, the earlier hustle and bustle replaced by a more subdued energy. Vendors lit lanterns, their warm glow casting flickering shadows on the cobblestones.

"Step right up! Get your body repairs here!" Xin called out, holding a flyer aloft. His voice carried over the marketplace, but most people passed by without so much as a glance.

Jia leaned against a post, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Maybe don't sound like a carnival barker."

"What's your brilliant idea, then?" Xin shot back, handing a flyer to a curious child who quickly ran off to show their parents.

Jia smirked and stepped forward, her voice calm and persuasive. "We're offering affordable and reliable body implants repair. If you've been turned away elsewhere, come see us."

Her approach drew a few nods of acknowledgment, but still, no one stopped.

Hours passed, and the pair grew increasingly frustrated. They sat on a bench near the edge of the marketplace, their stack of flyers noticeably untouched.

"Not a single customer," Jia muttered, her head resting in her hands.

"People are probably wary of new shops," Xin offered, though his tone betrayed his own disappointment.

The marketplace was winding down, vendors packing up their wares and lanterns being snuffed out one by one. The chill of the evening set in, and Xin pulled his coat tighter around himself.

"Tomorrow will be better," Jia said, though she didn't sound convinced.

Xin nodded, but his gaze drifted toward the camera case at his feet. He picked it up and opened it, running his fingers over the sleek body of the camera.

"You think Belial will like it?" he asked, glancing at Jia.

She raised an eyebrow. "You spent all that money on a camera for him? You're either really thoughtful or really stupid."

"Maybe both," Xin admitted with a chuckle.

As the shop's lanterns flickered out and the door's lock clicked into place, Xin turned to Jia with a faint grin.

"You hungry?" he asked, slinging his coat over his shoulder.

Jia gave a small shrug, her expression still clouded from the long day. "Starving. Let's find something cheap. That camera of yours probably emptied your wallet."

They wandered through the dimly lit streets, the chill of the evening air biting at their skin. Eventually, they found a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a corner of the market district. The faint hum of jazz music spilled out as they stepped inside, accompanied by the warm aroma of roasted meats and freshly baked bread.

The two slid into a booth near the window, the soft glow of a lantern casting long shadows across their tired faces. Xin ordered a hearty stew, while Jia opted for a simple sandwich. They ate in silence for a while, the tension of the day slowly melting into the comfort of a warm meal.

But then, as Jia took a sip of her tea, Xin's voice dropped, the weight in his tone pulling her attention instantly.

"Hey, Jia..." he began, staring down at his untouched spoon. "I'm going to do something... irrational."

Jia froze, her cup hovering midair. She set it down carefully, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied his face.

"What do you mean?" she asked, though a gnawing suspicion was already forming in the pit of her stomach.

Xin leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in the wooden beams above. He exhaled heavily, then met her eyes.

"I'm going to find the Kingpin," he said flatly.

The words hit her like a blow. Jia's stomach churned, and her grip on the table tightened. She didn't need him to explain further; she already understood.

The Kingpin. The man responsible for countless horrors. The one who had taken people—innocents—and turned them into twisted experiments for his own gain. She had escaped his clutches once, but not without scars. Her mechanical hands and left eye were constant reminders of what she'd endured.

"Xin," she said, her voice low and steady, though her hands trembled. "You know what you're saying, don't you? You know what kind of monster you're dealing with?"

He nodded, his expression resolute.

"The lives he's taken," Xin said, his voice hardening. "The people he's destroyed... all for his sick satisfaction. Someone has to put an end to it. And if no one else will..."

Jia stared at him, her mind racing with memories she'd tried so hard to bury. The screams, the endless nights of pain, the hollow faces of those who didn't make it. She swallowed hard, her throat dry.

"You're going to get yourself killed," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Maybe," Xin admitted, a grim smile tugging at his lips. "But I can't stand by anymore. Not while he's still out there, doing this to more people."

Jia wanted to argue, to shout at him for even considering such a reckless plan. But the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn't just determination—it was something deeper. A fire, unyielding and consuming.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You're an idiot, Xin."

He chuckled softly, his eyes dropping back to his stew. "Yeah. Probably."

The two sat in silence again, the weight of Xin's words hanging heavy between them. Outside, the streets grew quieter, the distant sound of a clock tower chiming the hour.

Finally, Jia broke the silence, her voice softer now. "Do you even have a plan?"

Xin didn't answer right away. He simply stared out the window, watching as the world outside seemed to drift further into shadow.

And then, without turning back to her, he said, "Not yet. But I will."

The room fell silent once more, save for the faint hum of the jazz music. Somewhere in the distance, a train whistle echoed, lonely and foreboding.