A cat, a fluffy cat with smooth white fur lays leisurely upon the desk. It glances at Quasi with a hint of interest, and then it loses it as though Quasi is not even worth its time.

You dare! You think yourself superior? Garbage! Pathetic furry garbage is what you are!

“Gino, it seems you’ve brought a stray.” Vulturan begins with hands grasped together. “Not that I mind. Cat’s are such beautiful beasts and impressive hunters.”

“You called for me?” Gino asks with the slightest hint of disdain.

“I did. Take a seat.” Vulturan points at the chair opposite his desk.

Though upset, Gino complies. When he sits down, Quasi hops upon the table- only to be hissed at by the other cat.”

“Tiera, my girl.” Vulturan places his hand on the cat's fur. “Relax. They are not threats.”

“Meowww.” Quasi says in what sounds like denial.

“Hisss,” Tiera replies.

“Um, maybe I should take Quasi outside.”

“Quasi? You’ve already named him?”

“Um-”

Vulturan shakes his head. “It’s fine, but you really should have chosen a better name. Quasi is so… lackluster.”

“Meowww,” Tiera acknowledges the statement.

“Growl!” Quasi stands up aggressively.

First you call me a mut and now you insult my name? You are courting death! Need I make an example of who the superior cat here is?

Tiera seems to accept the challenge. She stands and even chuckles at Quasi.

You have chosen death!

Then it happens, Quasi rushes towards Tiera. Tiera, seemingly expecting this, lunges at Quasi. And then it happens. Instead of lunging himself, Quasi implants his front extended claws into the desk and shifts his momentum to the backside. Tiera expected to be met with teeth and calls, instead, Quasi’s hindleg smacks her in the face and knocks her off the table.

To Quasi’s surprise, Tiera doesn’t crash. She rolls into a standing position and growls threateningly. If the cat wasn’t pissed before, it’s pissed now.

Quasi hops off the desk and the two cats start circling. The fight is far from over.

“Should we stop them?” Gino asks.

“It’s fine. Tiera is a Mixian Pureblood trained for small-beast arena combat. Her breed has a natural tendency to dominate other feline species through violence.”

Gino frowns at the circling and growling cats. “They are a bit loud.”

“A simple fix. I’ll need to activate the sound bubble anyways.”

With a wave of his hand on the table, runes begin to glow and activate. A wave of air brushes against Gino before forming a clear bubble around them. Immediately, all soundwaves disperse when touching the bubble.

With the bubble activated, Vulturan grasps his hands once more and smiles at Gino. “That should keep any prying ears from hearing. Now Gino, I have a job for you.”

“No.”

Vulturan raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“I'm going to be busy.”

“Your dockworking job? Don’t worry, I’ll talk to the [Foreman].”

“It’s not about my [Dockworking] job. I’m going to become a [Gladiator]. I already qualify for the first round tomorrow.”

Vulturan frowns. As he does, Gino notices the fighting in the background. Tiera found her way behind Quasi and is choking him while he attempts to get her off. Gino watches, surprised as Quasi climbs up a bookshelf before jumping off and slamming his body on Tiera, forcing her to let go. “A [Gladiator]? What reason do you have to become a [Gladiator]? You’re a [Rogue]!”

“I need the money to save my sister.”

“You’ll have it if you do enough jobs for me.”

“Your last job is the reason why my sister is now an indentured servant!” Gino practically yells before realizing that angering the man in front of him will do more harm than good. “And I can’t wait. My sister needs her freedom as soon as possible. The winnings from the coliseum will be enough.”

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The stick of a man un-grasps his hands and strokes his goatee. A clear sign that he is agitated.

“I understand your anger. Your sister paid a cost for your life. But, you shouldn’t put the blame on me. Blame the [Spy] that ratted you out.”

Gino frowns. Both at Vulturan’s words and at the battle unfolding behind. Quasi has Tiera by the head and is systematically slamming her into a bookshelf. “You think we have a [Spy]?”

“Nobody should have known you were going to be there. They were clearly waiting for you to show up with plenty of forewarning.” Vulturan explains.

Reliving that day in his head, the thought of a [Spy] makes a great deal of sense. His failure was already planned. “It still doesn't matter. Unless you can offer me a faster way to buy my sisters freedom, I’m sticking with my plan. Every day I wait is one where my sister suffers.”

“Do you actually believe you can win the entire tournament? You, a [Rogue] who just does odd jobs for me while working as a [Dockworker].”

Though Gino tries to listen, he finds it hard, for the battle has grown excessive. Quasi is biting Tiera by the tail and is now spinning her like one would a sling.

“You’ve no chance, Gino.”

“I don’t need to win the whole tournament. I get paid for wins and I can gamble on myself with my winnings. I just need to win enough to pay for her freedom.”

Vulturan shakes his head. “You’re a child who knows nothing of the world. But fine, go, I’ll allow it. Just know that when you eventually crawl back to me, you’ll find the jobs I provide to be far less profitable.”

In the background, Quasi yeets Tiera into a bookcase, shattering and causing the whole thing to start coming down. Tiera somehow survives the impact and is barely able to dodge the debris falling upon her. She turns to his hiss at Quasi, only for a book to smack her across the face.

When she recovers, Tiera glares at Quasi like one would a mortal enemy. She seems to hiss in what are expletives before turning and running outside the room. Quasi watches her retreat, going so far as to raise a paw and meow into the sky. None of which Gino hears, but the sight alone is enough to give plenty of context.

“I’ll take my chances,” Gin stands up.

Quasi hops back on the table and then perches on Gino’s shoulder.

“Your chances will fail.” Vulturan warns. He deactivates the bubble rune on the desk.

Gino turns around and starts walking out of the room. Just before he closes the door, he hears a yell.

“What in blazes happened here!?”

The door closes with a grin on Gino’s lips.

______________________________________________________________

Once the two are outside of Vulture territory, the first to speak is Gino.

“That was a nice throw you did on his cat.”

“You saw that? Good, it’s always nice to have an audience when I win. Though, Tiera is fucking strong for a cat. I’d thought I broke her bones several times, but she just kept moving. She was also very smart and tactical. Good reactions too. Tried to strangle me at one point- though I used gravity to show how bad of an idea that was.”

“Animals trained by [Beast Tamers] tend to be smarter and stronger than otherwise possible. Considering Tiera is bred for arena combat, she’s going to be even more superior.”

“Huh. Maybe you should enter me into these combats.”

“They check for jobs and classes.” Gino counters.

“Damn. That would have been an easy money maker. Welp, where are we heading to now? Food?”

Gino nods. “Yup, food. And I’ve got just the place.

The two weave through the streets of undercrust, ignoring all the hedonism that is prevalent on the streets. Eventually, they arrive at what looks like a market street with stores aplenty on both sides.

Not far from there, Gino enters a restaurant called the Stew Fever.

_______________________________________________________

Tiera is nowhere to be seen. The damn cat must have caused a bookshelf to collapse and then ran away. Probably to make the blam fall on the other cat.

“Smart enough to win in a fight, but too dumb to avoid making a mess of things.” Vulturan glares at the destroyed bookcase for a moment before deciding that the fault lies in Gino. If Gino hadn’t brought the mut, then this mess never would have happened.

Shaking his head, Vulturan takes a seat in front of his desk. He takes a paper and begins writing orders. The first is to have a new bookcase ordered and the current mess cleaned. The second is a small anonymous bounty that reads:

500 Trist to any [Gladiator] that defeats Gino in the upcoming tournament. Expenses will be paid on Tournament completion.

He signs the bounty and leans back into his chair. “Let's see if you can even get past the first round.” Vulturan taunts.

_____________________________________________________

The moment Cillian steps into the undercrust, he is immediately reminded of his stay in prison. From the sounds, smells, and light- it’s like walking in memory lane. With exceptions, of course. There are actual women here instead of men dressed as ones and the general feel of the whole place doesn’t give off the vibe that you’re trapped.

“This place smells like a den of violence and death. The air is fresh with the scent of blood and flesh.” Nepenthes says. Her eyes roam the streets like a tiger searching prey.

“Yea, it’s a good thing we left Myers and the kid back at the tavern. Those two would stick out like a sore thumb.”

“You already do. Many eyes focus on you and the bags of trist at your hip.”

Cillian straightens his back. “Good. A [Merchant] that walks with wealth visible is either an idiot or someone who you should take seriously.”

Nepenthes tilts her head. Ownership of anything outside one's body is a foreign thing to her. Her prior home did not have such extensive concepts of wealth or money. The only trade that ever happened was in favors. Otherwise, all were expected to obey the Matriarch.

“Which are you?”

Cillian shrugs. “Depends on how well you can keep prying arms away from my hips.”

“I see. Then I will endeavor that my clan is not depicted as weak.”

“You do that,” Cillian pauses a moment, “Just avoid making too much of a scene. Cutting an arm off from a [Thief] is one thing, but I’d rather not deal with eviscerated children.”

“Do not worry. The Matriarch has informed me that children are to not be dismembered or killed regardless of reason. For that, I will only eviscerate adults.”

Cillian shakes his head before starting his descent. As he does, Nepenthes is following vigilantly behind.