Chapter 6: Chess and Chains

The air outside the tea house smelled different when Leon stepped out.

He wasn't sure why. It wasn't cleaner, or sharper. Just different. Maybe it was because he expected to walk back out with a bruised rib and instead left with tea and a warning that sounded more like a flirtation.

He started walking. No particular direction. Just movement. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, and his mind still running circles around the words You're strange, Leon Vale.

He didn't make it two blocks before someone grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into a wall.

Hard.

Not painful, exactly. But enough to knock the air out of him and force his brain to immediately stop whatever internal monologue it was spiraling through.

She was tall.

That was the first thing his stunned brain registered. Not just in heels-tall, but physically imposing. Combat boots. Black jeans. Sleeveless leather vest that showed off muscle without flexing. Her hair was a long silver ponytail, tied tight like it could be used as a weapon if necessary.

Her eyes were narrowed and sharp. Not angry. Studying. Cold.

"Leon Vale," she said.

Leon blinked. "You know, that's starting to become the least favorite way I get introduced to people."

"You visited Sayaka."

"Yes. Also, hi."

"Did she tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

The woman didn't answer. She pulled back half a step but kept him pinned with her eyes. Her arms were crossed now, revealing tattoos along both forearms—snakes, chains, thorns. They weren't pretty. They were declarations.

"I'm Gisele," she said.

Leon coughed once. "Nice to meet you. Are you with customer service, or...?"

"I was sent to test you."

"...Okay. Is this going to involve more walls?"

"Depends. Are you really what they say you are?"

"I don't even know what they say I am."

Her lips twitched. Not a smile. More like the kind of look you give when you're trying to decide whether to hit someone or offer them a cigarette.

"You walked into Sayaka's place without backup," she said.

"Yeah. People keep pointing that out."

"You got her to fold a crate operation without showing a blade or even raising your voice."

"I mostly just drank tea."

"No demands. No threats. No presence. That's not weakness. That's control."

Leon stared at her.

"Wait. You think I did that on purpose?"

"You're doing it now."

"I'm literally just standing here, Gisele."

"Exactly."

She stepped closer again. Not quite in his space. But close enough that he felt it. Like she was studying how he breathed.

"You know how many people can intimidate without speaking?" she asked quietly.

"I assume very few."

"You're one of them."

Leon swallowed.

He didn't say anything. Mostly because he was realizing that, for the third time in a row, someone was reading his complete confusion as absolute power.

Gisele leaned in. Her breath smelled like menthol and spice. There was a faint cut on her cheekbone. Fresh.

"I came here thinking I'd make you flinch," she said.

"Still might, if you keep looming like that."

"But you're not flinching. You're watching. Measuring."

"I'm...trying to decide if I should call the police, actually."

Gisele's mouth curved up. Just slightly.

"Everyone says you're dangerous."

Leon stared at her, deadpan.

"I once lost a fight with a vending machine."

She stepped back finally.

"You don't deny it. That's what makes you terrifying."

Leon exhaled. Loudly. "Oh my God."

She nodded to herself, like confirming something private.

Then she reached into her pocket and tossed him something.

A small, metal badge.

He caught it.

It was shaped like a fang.

"What's this?"

"Territory marker," she said. "Symbol that you're under protection. Or that you own something."

"I definitely don't own anything."

"Doesn't matter. People see it, they'll think you do. That's all it takes."

She turned to leave, then paused.

"If you need me," she added, "you can call. Or whistle."

"I don't know how to whistle."

She smiled. A real one, this time. Sharp, toothy, fast.

"You will."

Then she walked off, boots thudding softly against the wet pavement, her silhouette disappearing into the misted streetlight haze like a ghost in combat gear.

Leon stood there for a long minute, looking at the fang badge in his hand.

Then muttered, "What the hell is happening."

And, because he had nothing else to do and nowhere better to be, he pocketed the badge and kept walking.

Behind him, somewhere far above, someone else had just taken his picture.

And someone else had just sent a message to a group chat full of very dangerous people:

"He's moving. Alone. Again."