(Jevan's perspective)
"Wake up, you bastard!"
I opened my eyes to a voice as unpleasant as a slap to the ear, more like a whip lashing my miserable morning. I blinked twice before slowly raising my head. My eyes were swollen from lack of sleep, and my arm was numb under my pillow. I turned toward the source of the annoyance (as if I didn't already know) and saw him standing by the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
Raven, that bastard. A tall man with slightly long black hair and brown eyes the color of tree bark. And unfortunately, my roommate.
How did I end up with him? Well, that's a long story, but sadly, not an interesting one.
The lower district wasn't as cheap as idiots might think. The rents were high compared to the miserable living standards here.
And since I wasn't in the mood to waste my money on a lousy apartment, I decided to share rent with someone else. Out of all the creatures I could have ended up with, I got stuck with this annoying one.
"Were you dreaming about princesses again?"
"No, I was dreaming of a world where the first face I see in the morning isn't your ugly one."
"Nice. Now move, we have work."
I sighed, then sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my face with my hands.
"The work isn't going anywhere."
"No, but it won't wait for you either, especially when you look like this." He gestured at me with his chin, his arms still crossed.
I glanced at my reflection in the nearby mirror. Messy hair, half closed eyes, and exhaustion carved into my face. Fine, he wasn't entirely wrong.
"You're the worst roommate in history," I muttered as I dragged myself out of bed.
Raven ignored my words completely, as if I were just background noise, and walked out. I stood in place, staring at his arrogant back, wondering for the thousandth time how I ended up with him.
But who knows? Maybe one day I'll find a good reason for this stupid decision. Or maybe I'll kill him in his sleep. Either option works.
...
It had been a week since I officially became part of the Bloody Fang. And honestly, the name suggested something far more bloody than what I'd seen so far.
The gang, contrary to expectations, operated with surprising discipline. No yelling, no cursing in meetings, and no one waving their sword in anyone's face (at least not in front of me).
And so far? My job was boring. All I did was stand near Raven. This creature who shared my apartment and, apparently, whom the universe decided to punish me with in every corner of my life.
The big surprise? Turns out he wasn't just an ordinary member. He actually had a decent rank. Why? I had no idea. Maybe the gang was going through a staffing crisis. Who in their right mind would give him a high rank?
I was leaning against a stone wall, silently watching the target (a simple merchant selling rusty tools and herbs that weren't even fit to be used as fertilizer).
I said sarcastically while glancing at Raven:
"How in the creator's name did you get a high rank? Is there some secret points system based on poor performance?"
Raven, sitting on the ground, didn't even give me a side glance. He just kept spinning a small knife between his fingers.
"Charm. Some of us are born exceptional. And then there's you."
"Do you think he'll do something interesting soon?"
"If we're counting picking his nose five times a minute as interesting, then we're currently at the peak of excitement."
The merchant hadn't done anything suspicious for the past two days. If this was the "dangerous target" we'd been assigned to watch, I figured the Bloody Fang needed to reevaluate their priorities.
Honestly, I still didn't understand why a gang this size would care about a merchant selling dried herbs and some junk. But I wasn't here to understand. I was here to work (or at least pretend to).
No complaints on my part, anyway. I'd asked for an easy job, and I got exactly that. Nothing complicated, no real danger, and no need for mental effort. A good deal (on the surface, at least).
But as always in this rotten city, quiet never lasted long.
A strange man entered the square, suspicious from the very first glance. Long coat, tense face, and eyes scanning the place. His clothes practically screamed, "I'm suspicious, watch me."
He approached the merchant we'd been watching for two days without spotting anything unusual. They exchanged words I couldn't hear, but their body language spoke volumes. Unfortunately, I was not skilled in reading body language.
The merchant pointed toward the back storeroom, and the man nodded before following him. Raven moved without a word. He stood, brushed the dust off his trousers, then gave me a quick look that was an unspoken order:
"Get up."
Normally, I would have ignored him, but fine, I wanted this boring mission to end. I sighed, stretched lazily, and muttered sarcastically:
"And here I thought my day would pass quietly. Foolish me."
...
We slipped into the storeroom, Raven first and me right behind him. The moment we stepped in, a foul stench hit my nose. We hid behind a stack of large wooden crates. Raven signaled me to stay low, then nodded toward the inside.
The tall stranger stood beside the merchant, but behind them was the real disaster. Metal cages carelessly dumped to the side, stacked with filthy, torn blankets that reeked with a pungent stench unbearable even from this distance.
Under the blankets, I saw something move. Inside the cages were children. Pale faces, glazed half closed eyes, some huddled in a corner, others lying on the metal floor of the cage.
The merchant spoke, pointing at the cages:
"All under ten years old. Quiet, no noise. Some don't speak. As agreed, the shipment is ready."
The stranger didn't blink.
"My men will come tomorrow to collect the goods."
Then he pulled a small dark cloth pouch from his pocket and tossed it toward the merchant. The merchant caught it before it hit the ground. He didn't look inside, just weighed it in his hand and nodded.
"Consider it a down payment."
The merchant gave a faint, vile smile.
"It's an honor to do business with you."
Then a weak, broken voice came from one of the cages:
"I want... my mom..."
The merchant quickly turned, walked up to the cage, and kicked the iron door hard, making the whole cage rattle. The child inside cried out.
The merchant shouted in a hoarse, hate filled voice:
"Shut up, you little rat! Your mother sold you with her own hands! Don't cry for her now she didn't cry for you!"
The child stayed curled in the corner, whimpering softly.