The scent of cool night air and distant factory smoke was a welcome change from the prison's dead, sterile basalt. Rian pulled the final access hatch shut behind them, the metal scraping against the stone. Below them, the Tower Dissolution Facility looked like a sleeping iron beast, already starting to repair the damage Rian had inflicted.
Seraphina Vast, still breathing hard from the fight with the Golem, stood beside him on the narrow rooftop ledge. Even in the faded, filthy prison scrubs, she commanded the space.
"They'll mobilize a full response force within the hour," Seraphina stated, her silver eyes scanning the distant city lights. She sounded like a general assessing a lost battle. "We need weapons, transport, and a secure forward base now. Where is your unit, Thorne? You promised resources."
Rian pulled out the communication stone. "Garl, report on the location of the nearest low-profile, high-security exfiltration point."
Garl's voice crackled through the stone, sounding strained and irritated. "My Lord, my leg is broken, and I'm currently the communications hub for a high-risk theft. I found a defunct sewage pipe that leads directly to the Gray Quarter, two sectors over. It's low-profile, but you'll be swimming in waste. That's your only clear path."
Seraphina scowled, clearly disgusted. "Sewage? An insult. I led the Black Watch. We move by sanctioned routes."
Rian looked at her, his voice flat. "Your rank is Inmate, Seraphina. Your previous methods led to your incarceration. My methods lead to freedom. We take the sewage pipe. It has the lowest probability of physical interdiction. Varya, meet us at the Gray Quarter terminus, bring three cloaks."
He didn't wait for her to argue. He pointed to a large, rusted vent pipe on the edge of the roof. "We descend now. Move, Commander."
Seraphina hesitated for only a fraction of a second. She saw the absolute certainty in his eyes—the certainty of a mind that had already calculated all variables and accepted the disgusting option as the only viable choice. She dropped her arrogance and moved to the vent pipe.
The descent was an undignified disaster. Rian, physically weak, slid down the pipe too fast, landing with a painful thump at the bottom. The smell of the raw sewage was immediate and overwhelming.
"This is costly," Rian muttered, wiping a foul substance from his sleeve. "The cleaning costs alone will negate this evening's initial profits."
Seraphina landed beside him with silent, practiced grace. Despite the environment, her focus was cold and military. She helped him to his feet, her gaze sweeping the dark, subterranean tunnel.
"I need a weapon, Thorne," she stated, her voice tight. "We are defenseless. You acquired an asset that requires immediate re-tooling."
"Your value is your mind, Seraphina. Your weapons will come when your loyalty is proven," Rian countered. "For now, we rely on stealth. Walk low."
As they moved through the damp, slippery tunnel, Rian began to lay out his strategy for the Chief of Security.
"I own a resource outpost on the 5th Floor. It's now profitable, but constantly under threat. Your job is to make it unassailable," Rian explained. "I need discipline, tactical training, and a deep understanding of Tower security weaknesses. You will organize our defenses, manage our small security force—starting with Garl—and train our people to operate with zero tolerance for failure."
"Defending a mine? My Lord, I commanded a thousand troops," Seraphina scoffed.
"You commanded an army that was easily corrupted and dismantled," Rian shot back, his tone cutting. "I am building a structure that is entirely immune to that corruption. Your job is to design a security force that views every monster, every thief, and every rival noble as an economic threat to our production quota."
Seraphina fell silent, her military mind processing the terrifying, rational logic of his demands. He wasn't asking her to fight for honor; he was asking her to fight for the bottom line.
"And my vengeance?" Seraphina asked, her voice dangerously low. "The resources to hunt my betrayers?"
"Your vengeance is the long-term project. It requires money, intelligence, and deniability," Rian said. "Varya will be our Chief of R&D. You will be my Chief of Security. When my Shadow Ledger division is established, they will gather the necessary data. When your vengeance is fiscally viable—when it serves the overall profitability of the operation—you will get the necessary funding."
"Fiscally viable revenge," Seraphina repeated, a look of profound disgust crossing her face. "You disgust me, Thorne. But you are efficient."
They emerged from the sewage tunnel near the edge of the Gray Quarter, coughing and covered in grime. The smell here was only marginally better—a mix of charcoal smoke, cheap alcohol, and desperation.
Varya was waiting exactly where Rian told her to be: standing by a pile of empty barrels, holding three rough, concealing cloaks. She wrinkled her nose dramatically when she saw them.
"My Lord, you look terrible. The contamination is visible," Varya stated, wrinkling her nose. "Here. The cloaks are a necessity. And I brought the communication stone."
Rian took a cloak, his gaze falling on Seraphina. "Varya, meet Seraphina Vast. She is our Chief of Security. Seraphina, meet Varya, our Chief of R&D and Co-Owner of this operation."
Seraphina's eyes snapped to Varya. She looked the Sorcerer up and down with obvious contempt. "Co-owner? This small girl? You trust a rogue Mage with ten percent of your capital?"
Varya, not missing a beat, pulled her cloak tight and met the Knight's gaze with cold intensity. "I weaponized a deep-ore conduit and pushed back a Tier 4 monster with a physics calculation, Commander. I earn my ten percent by being irreplaceable. What is your current asset contribution, exactly?"
Seraphina was momentarily stunned by the sharp, unexpected challenge. Her military authority was useless against Varya's cold, intellectual calculation.
Rian stepped between them, satisfied by the immediate, high-tension rivalry. "Enough. Varya, your immediate task is to clean this unscheduled contamination off me and Seraphina, then you will get Garl secured and start analyzing the Troll-Hound's defensive weakness."
He looked at Seraphina, his voice taking on the ultimate authority. "Seraphina, you take command of our immediate security. Find us safe lodging for the night—somewhere cheap, defensible, and off the grid. Your first task is to minimize our exposure and secure my continued safety. Your debt to me has begun."
Rian felt a sudden wave of exhaustion—the physical drain of the last two days finally hitting him. He had bypassed the system, secured his capital, and acquired his primary combat asset.
He needed sleep. And a shower that cost less than a Gold Mark.
A/N: Rian now has a high-strung Sorcerer and a fierce Knight Commander under one roof. The rivalry has begun, and the debt clock is ticking. Chapter 8: The Price of Efficiency.