Reed came downstairs, feeling like a new man. The grime from the sewers was gone, replaced by the comforting scent of soap and a lingering sense of relief. His clothes had been washed, though still slightly damp, and they were leagues better than the muck-soaked mess he’d crawled out of earlier. His broken sword was sheathed, leaning on a wall.

The smell of fresh bread drifted through the air, and Reed’s stomach growled loudly as he spotted Aria leaning on a couch behind the table, her fiery red hair framing a face that looked more relieved than before, but still guarded. She’d cleaned up too, her leather armour swapped for a simple tunic, but even now, he could see the edge in her posture—a readiness to snap back if pushed too far.

Loaves of different bread and some pastries sat on their plates between them as Reed sat down on the floor, and he didn’t waste time tearing off a hunk of bread and stuffing it into his mouth.

Aria watched him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, but not saying anything at first.

Finally, she spoke. “Thanks for stepping in back there. I didn’t expect anyone to help.”

Reed shrugged, chewing casually. “You’re welcome. But don’t get me wrong—I'm not exactly a hero. It was real bad timing... for them.”

Nodding, Aria continued, “Thanks anyway. But since we have been acquainted I have to ask what’s a man from the neighbouring country doing here? Popping out of manholes, no less.”

Reed sighed, “Long, long time ago. A brave adventurer had received his first revelation but some scoundrels were jealous of his sudden promotion and...”

Raising a brow Aria cut in, “Revelation? You are an enligtened one?”

“In the flesh, somehow managed to receive my first revelation not too long ago.” Reed replied.

Aria cupped her chin in her hand mumbling to herself, only after Reed had finished eating did she speak, “You said you were an adventurer, right? I need your help.”

Standing up Reed went over to his sheahted sword picking it up, “I’m listening.”

Taking a deep breath Aria started, “They call themselves the Red Scorn. Nothing more than a gang of petty thieves. But a few months ago, their leader, Kalden managed to become an enlightened one and since then they’ve moved on to extorting the local businesses under the guise of a ‘protection fee.’ They’ve gotten a foothold here by scaring people into paying up, but it’s not just about money anymore. They’ve started looking into the prostitution trade. They want to expand into something bigger—control the streets, control the people.”

Reed listened, as he walked around the room taking it in. “So, they’re looking to get a taste of power, huh?”

“Yeah,” Aria confirmed. “Kalden is ambitious but reckless. He’s trying to turn his gang into a full-blown cartel, and he’s been pushing hard to get into the slave trade and prostitution. They’ve already grabbed a few girls from the outskirts of town. If they can get a hold of me and this bakery, they’ll have an excuse to pull in bigger players, both locally and from outside.”

Reed let out a low whistle. “So, you’re the key to their expansion plan. They break you, they take over the neighborhood, maybe the whole city in time or so they wish.”

“Exactly,” Aria said grimly. “That’s why I can’t just kill them outright. If Kalden finds out, he will come looking for blood. And I don’t want to be breathing for whatever he has planned for me.”

“And that’s where princely me comes in to save you from the fire in my shining near invincible armour?” Reed questioned, crossing his arms, “Well, unfortunately for you neither a prince nor do I have an invincible armour. Just know putting my neck out like this is going to cost you, and not in coins.”

Aria stared at him blankly, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.

Reed’s eyes gleamed with mischief as he spoke, a dark smile spreading across his face.

“You see,” He said, his voice lowering slightly, “the red corn, was it? They want everything you’ve got. Your house, your bakery... you.” Reed let the word linger, he could blame [Sinful Urge] for what he was going to say next but he would be lying. Ever since he laid his eyes on Aria he knew what he wanted.

“And the price you have to pay to get them off of you is… the same.” Taking a seat on the the table facing Aria, Reed continued, “I want this bakery, this house and you.”

Leaning closer towards Aria, voice dripping with playful menace he added, “But unlike them, I want you all for me. Be my woman, my prize — mine alone.”

Aria’s expression remained neutral throughout, with her arms crossed, the fingers on her arm digging into her skin. “So choose the lesser evil, is what you’re trying to say?”

Reed grinned wider. “Oh, absolutely. The big difference as I mentioned, you’d be treated much better under my protection. You’d keep your pride, your strength—hell, I’d even help you run this bakery. But make no mistake, Aria... I want everything. The house, the business, and you. Especially you.”

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The tension in the air thickened as his words settled in. Aria’s eyes flicked toward the window for a brief moment, her mind clearly racing through her options, but Reed could tell from her posture that she was cornered. She might be able to fight, but she couldn’t do it alone.

She took a deep breath, keeping her voice level. “So, let’s say you manage to do it, face down someone at your level with his whole entourage for good. You’re telling me that if you pull that off... you expect me to just hand over everything?”

Reed’s grin remained, his tone light but with an edge of dangerous amusement. “Exactly. But think of it this way: it’s still a better deal than they’re offering, isn’t it? I don’t want you broken. I don’t want you crawling. I want you on your feet. But I will own you, Aria. You’ll be mine.”

Aria’s eyes locked with his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, to Reed’s surprise, she let out a low, bitter laugh.

“If you pull it off,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, “if you actually manage to get rid of Kalden and his mooks? I wouldn’t mind giving myself to you a hundred times over. Hell, you can have the house and the bakery too. But first, you have to earn it. And I’m not an easy prize to win.”

Reed’s grin widened, his eyes flashing with the thrill of the challenge. “Now that’s more like it.”

Aria stood up, pacing toward the window, her expression hardening again as she went into the finer details. “Their main stronghold is in the old inn near the sealed well. It’s heavily guarded during the day—they focus on collecting their ‘fees’ at night. If you take out their enforcers and shake them up, Kalden will come out. And if we play it right, you can injure him enough to lay off my back for good.”

Reed’s grin returned, sharp and predatory. “I like it. Hit ‘em where they live, spook ‘em, and make the boss run crawling with his tail behind his back. But injure him? Shouldn’t I just off him?”

Aria’s frowned. “You absolutely can’t kill him. He managed to get a revelation meaning someone helped him, someone I don’t want to get involved with.”

Reed stood up, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “Ohkay, sounds like a plan. But you better be ready to keep your end of the deal when this is all done.”

Aria met his gaze, her expression fierce but resigned. “If you actually manage to pull this off, Reed, you can have everything. The house, the bakery, and me. But like I said—you’ve got to earn it.”

Reed chuckled, his voice low and wicked. “Oh, don’t worry. I will.”

___

Stepping out into the cold night air, the faint glow of distant street lanterns casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. The inn where the Red Scorn holed up wasn't far- an old, rundown building that had seen better days before Kalden and his gang took it over. The scent of mildew and decay clung to the air as Reed strolled casually down the road, his hands in his pockets, humming a little tune.

He thought to himself. Sure, Aria had told me to just spook the poor sods, rough them up, and make them back off. But that seemed just like such a waste, no?

Instead of scaring away this little group, why don’t I take it over?

It did not take long for Reed to find the old inn.

As he got closer, he saw movement—a thug standing guard outside, his face still bruised from their earlier encounter in the alleys. The man’s eyes widened in recognition just as Reed's foot collided with his shin, sending him toppling like a sack of potatoes. A quick crack to the back of the head with the hilt of Reed's sword knocked him out cold. The man had barely made a sound. But the others weren’t taken down so easily and it began.

______

On the rooftop of the old inn, the gunslinger of red scorn, with bloodshot eyes kept staring at his hand. What once used to be his dominant hand that shot down many, was now just a useless limb, severed from the wrist up.

It was then when he heard one of his comrades screaming bloody murder as he sprinted towards the inn.

“Help! That guy with the short dagger is here again!” Right when his words finished he abruptly fell on his face, launching into another set of painful screams, a hilt of a dagger sticking out from his backside.

“God damnit, I missed the hole.” Came along the voice of the person that had taught gunslinger the true meaning of hatred.

Soon enough, Reed came into view. Flashing the gunslinger his signature grin, he commented, “Oho, it’s the gun guy.”

“Looking really imbalanced there buddy, let me even you out!” Reed shouted as the gunslinger stood on the roof using his intact hand to aim his gun at the bastard.

Reed too unsheathed his broken sword along with the gunslinger, willing his core into pumping out mana. By now it felt like second nature, using mana to augment his already superhuman body further. These poor gangsters never stood a chance.

The bullets reached Reed in an instant, the first of it cutting his cheek as it flew by missing its mark barely. His hand holding the broken sword blurred, deflecting the rest of it.

As Reed wiped the line of blood that flowed down his cheek he corrected his earlier thoughts. These poor gangsters will not stand a chance as soon as I behead this bitchass gunslinger.

As the gunslinger reloaded, Reed took out the knives he confiscated from the gangsters earlier. Fortunately for him the gunslinger was a bit slower, right when he was done reloading Reed’s thrown knives reached him one by one. And all of them.

Missed the mark, clattering uselessly against the tiles of the rooftop.

The gunslinger screamed as he jumped down from the rooftop. Running in the old inn right as he landed on the ground. And with that Kalden knew Reed was here.

“Goddamnit! Fucking knives!” Cursing, Reed ducked and launched into a sprint.

“Don’t let him get in - Oh shit!” Two guards came out of the door right when Reed reached the old inn. In a blur of motion, the hilt of his broken sword, he gave these guards a love tap in the cranium - knocking them out.

Just as Reed reached the door, it swung open, and a heavy boot connected with his chest, sending him flying back onto the cobblestone road with a grunt. The impact rattled his ribs, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of him.

From the shadowy entrance stepped out, Kalden.

A far cry from the petty gang members Reed had faced earlier. Older, with streaks of gray in his dark hair, he wore his years of experience like armour. His muscular frame stretched beneath a heavy leather jacket, but it was the scar—a jagged, ugly mark running from his forehead down over his dead, milky-white eye—that truly caught Reed’s attention. This was a man who had fought, who had killed, and who had survived.

Kalden spat to the side, eyeing Reed with disdain. "You're the one causing all this trouble?" His voice was gravelly, almost amused. "I thought you'd be taller."

Rising to his feet, Reed rubbed his chest where the kick had landed, wincing slightly. "I promise to make you regret saying that, old man." He grinned, despite the pain. "This isn’t going to be easy for you, is it?"

Kalden smirked, stepping forward. "I don’t need easy. I need ya dead.”