The two of them looked down at her. She could see the man with the gruff voice. He was about ten years older than the other one, and he had a big, angry scar across his neck.

"You stabbed me," The taxi driver said.

"Well, you hit me, so I think we're about even," she replied, her head still ringing.

The taxi driver straightened his coat and started to walk back into his vehicle.

"Where do you think you're going?" The older man asked

"Your product is delivered, my job here is done," He said. "And I need to stop by the dry cleaner. They close soon."

"You're worthless."

He hopped back in his car, "And yet I keep getting called. Goodbye."

The hovercar took off a moment later, leaving just her and the older man. Her head started to clear a bit, but she hadn't moved much from where she had fallen. The driver had clearly held back, but she’d still been knocked on her ass; she was just lucky she didn't get hit straight on the jaw, or else it would have been lights out for her.

She looked around and saw that they were in an industrial compound of some sort; eight-foot walls surrounded them, and the place was littered with junked vehicles. Several more people ran over as she tried and failed to stand, and pretty soon, four more people were watching her. They huddled around the older guy, waiting for him to say something.

"Jesus, Volk. Who tossed this one through an oven?" A female said, shaved and wearing an eye patch.

"Ow," Grim said, mad at herself for actually being a little hurt by that. They gave her a side eye once she spoke but otherwise ignored her once she didn't move.

"Not sure, Driver just dropped her off like this. She's feisty, so let's be quick about this. Already shanked the bastard once," He wiggled Grim's still-dripping blade in the bald lady’s face.

"Good to know," she said, then turned to Grim, kneeling. “Hey, we're not going to hurt you, okay? Not unless you make things difficult. So if you come with us, this whole thing will be over soon, and you can be on your way, free and unharmed." Her voice was so sweet with artificial honey that it made Grim sick.

"Already harmed," Grim said, unable to resist herself.

That flustered the bald lady a bit, "Well, that wasn't us, and you stabbed them, so perhaps you deserved it. Listen. You can call me Maribelle. I'm gonna help you up. You're going to have a short conversation with an associate of ours, and then we'll drop you off back into town."

Back into town? So they'd probably left her layer and somehow bypassed the checkpoints to get to another one; how hadn't she noticed? Judging by the pollution in the air, she'd guess they were in the fourth layer of the industrial zone. She only knew that because Louis worked around here, and she'd done a few shifts with him before they both realized a one-armed, anemic teenager wasn't the best fit to work a labour job. It wouldn't get her out of this situation, but knowing where she is would help if she could escape the compound later.

"What does he want?" Grim asked as she stood up, it was difficult, but she’d rather do it than let that woman touch her.

Maribelle laughed, "What everyone wants, sweetie. Boons, he’s gonna take yours, and that will be that. It won't hurt."

"What? You can't transfer them once they’re affixed. Everyone knows that."

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Mr. Cede can, which makes him one of the most valuable people in this city," Maribelle said slowly, as if Grim was stupid. "Seeing as well, he's the only one who can do what he does."

"Enough chitchat, we've wasted enough time out here already. Damn smogs gonna make me sick." The older man, who must've been Volk, said. He raised his shirt above his mouth.

The woman agreed and grabbed Grim's elbow before she could react. Which, she was going to blame on the concussion she almost definitely had. The three other men and Volk followed behind her as she was led to a squat building with too few windows to be up to code. It was made out of solid material and painted a drab colour. The double doors opened, and the interior was quite a bit nicer in a superficial way. All of the bad was painted over with white paint, and any defects were not fixed, just pushed out of sight, like a slumlord’s wet dream.

She was brought down a hallway and into an office. It was nicer, with a large oak desk and a few tasteful paintings on the walls. Behind the desk was an unnaturally tall man in a suit. He dwarfed the chair he was sitting in and the computer he was working on looked like a children's toy in his hands.

He looked up as they entered, revealing a long pale face adorned by black rimmed glasses, "What took so long?"

"Scrappy little kid stabbed the driver," Maribelle said.

A flash of interest spread across his face, "Boon related?"

"Don't think so, just got the jump," Volk added; the interest the man had shown died as quickly as it came.

"Very well, tie her down and return in fifteen minutes. Figure out where you want to dump her. This shouldn't take long."

Maribelle sat her down in a chair; Grim tried to push her off, but the bald lady had better leverage with an unnaturally firm grip. Grim was held down with one arm while Maribelle touched the arm of the office chair she was sitting in. It grew frost as her captor ran her hand along it, and after she was finished, she forced Grim’s palm onto the frost. Grim felt the heat leave her hand as her skin suffused with the wood. She tried to pull free but winced as her skin felt like it was going to be ripped off.

"I just used [THERMAL CONDUCTIVITY]. You know how kids stick their tongues to poles and get stuck? Well, that’s pretty much what just happened to your hand; you can pull it off, but a bunch of skin will come with it, and then when I sit you back down, you can let me know how my boon feels on flesh. You'd make my day. Anyways, you be good and don't cause any trouble for Mr. Cede, and I'll be back in fifteen minutes to get you home, okay?"

"Fuck you," Grim said.

Maribelle leaned right into her face and flashed her a toothy grin, the smell of hot breath and stale cigarettes filled up Grim's nose, "Fuck you too."

As Maribelle left and shut the door behind her, everyone else had already gone. To her disappointment, Grim tested the limits of her restraint and found it hadn’t changed much. She had about half an inch before her skin started to complain, which meant she was forced to stew in her thoughts as Mr. Cede typed on his archaic keyboard. The harsh clacks were the only noise battling against the silence in his office. It was like knowing she would get hit but not knowing when, and every second he let it fester, her anxiety got worse. Blood pooled in her mouth as she bit down on her cheek, letting the pain help her focus. She’d take the time to think this through; they didn't want to kill her, and she didn't see why they would lie. If they wanted to, they'd had plenty of opportunities already.

It did make sense that they wanted to take her boon away from her, which was a bigger problem. She had just gotten it, waited so many years to receive one and even got incredibly, unbelievably lucky to receive an S rank one and she didn't want to give that up. On the other hand, they probably would just let her go afterwards; otherwise, why not knock her unconscious instead? She'd gotten something she'd never planned for, and she could go back to living an ordinary life after giving away something she never expected to have; it would be easy compared to what? Trying to fight her way out? Her pounding head ache reminded her how that would go. It was delusional to think she had much of a chance at all.

However, it was an S-rank skill, which was extremely rare. Although that didn’t mean it was good for a fight. It could be really strong, and she’d be able to escape. Or, it could be useless and get her killed.

She knew what the safe option was, and she should take it. Her luck had already run out when she’d gotten it in the first place, but there was a part of her that would rather die than let someone else have something that was hers. The very idea of it was repulsive, there’d been enough taken from her for one life. A different part of her cried out. She made herself small and lowered her voice as she approached it, the part of her that was scared about dying. It was soft and warm as she cradled it in her arms; the gentle rocking back and forth soothed away its worries. She looked it in the eyes, and right before it could fight back, she smothered it against her chest.

"My apologies for the wait," Mr. Cede said. "Shall we begin?"