Jun's POV

The campfire crackled in the quiet of the night, its golden glow casting flickering shadows over the rough faces of my crew. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and earth, the sounds of the forest blending with the low murmurs of my men. We were settled just off the riverbank, surrounded by towering trees, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy above us. The wind rustled through the leaves, carrying the distant, almost haunting sound of the river rushing through the canyon. The river—wild, unpredictable, and deadly—was both a blessing and a curse, offering both danger and gifts to those who dared approach.

I leaned back, allowing the warmth of the fire to seep into my bones as my eyes drifted to the shifting shadows beyond the flames. The weight of the journey ahead pressed on me, but for now, we were safe. I had the moment to think, to plan. But my thoughts were interrupted by a gruff voice.

"Boss!" Garan's deep, raspy call cut through the night. I turned, my sharp gaze settling on him as he strode into the light, a wide grin stretched across his face. The wiry, burly man seemed to thrive in the wilds, his sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes gleaming with something between excitement and mischief. He was carrying something limp in his arms, and as he drew closer, the murmurs from the crew grew louder.

"Look what the river brought in. A little snack for us, eh?" he said, his voice thick with humor, though there was something unsettling in the way he grinned.

The camp stirred at his words, murmurs rising as the men craned their necks to get a look at whatever Garan had discovered. Harun, ever the skeptic and troublemaker, snorted from the edge of the circle.

"Snack?" he scoffed, stepping forward with a smirk. "You sure it's not a corpse? Doesn't look like she's breathing to me, you idiot." His voice was low, but it carried enough to make the others laugh, the tension in the camp momentarily breaking.

I stood up, brushing the dirt off my pants and crossing the clearing toward Garan. As I got closer, I saw the girl for the first time. Garan dropped her onto the ground near the fire with a careless thud, and I knelt beside her, my eyes narrowing as I took in the sight. She was soaked to the bone, her clothes tattered and stained with mud. Her skin was as pale as the moonlight, her chest rising and falling in shallow, erratic breaths.

"She's alive," I said, my voice low but firm, silencing the murmurs around the camp. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I inspected her more closely. Her appearance screamed of someone who had been through something horrible—a desperate struggle, perhaps—or had been lost for far too long.

My gaze shifted to her neck, where something caught the firelight. A jade pendant, hanging delicately from a fine chain. The craftsmanship was unmistakably intricate, the fine artistry of the piece standing out against her otherwise ragged appearance. This wasn't something that a common person would own. It was too refined, too beautiful. She either stole it—or she was from a noble family.

My mind raced, calculating the possibilities. If she were noble, someone would surely be missing her. Someone who could offer a hefty sum for her safe return. Or, better yet, someone who could be persuaded to pay a hefty ransom to avoid the scandal of her ending up in the hands of the wrong people.

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"What should we do with her, boss?" Harun's voice broke my thoughts, dripping with amusement. His arms were crossed, a sarcastic grin tugging at his lips. "She's half-dead already. Toss her back in the river?"

I shot him a glare, the firelight casting shadows across my face, making my expression even harder to read. Harun's grin faltered as he took a step back. The men knew better than to push me when I was in this mood. I could feel the heat rising inside me. My patience, already thin, was wearing even thinner.

"If you touch her with your filthy hands, I'll cut them off for you," I growled. My voice was low, but the deadly seriousness in it caused the air around us to tense.

Harun's grin vanished completely. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but I saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Understood, boss."

I didn't say another word. Carefully, I lifted the girl into my arms, the weight of her fragile body strangely grounding. She was cold, and her breath was barely a whisper against my chest, but there was life in her yet. I turned toward the tent, giving orders without looking back. "Garan, get some blankets. Harun, grab the medicine kit. And move quickly."

Garan muttered something under his breath, but he didn't hesitate to follow my orders, disappearing into the shadows to gather what I'd asked for. Harun stood still for a moment, arms still crossed, looking like he was about to say something else. I met his gaze with a hard look that told him to keep his mouth shut.

"What, we helping her now?" Harun finally asked, his voice dripping with skepticism. "She could be trouble. Or worse—she could lead trouble straight to us. Looks like someone who doesn't belong out here."

I turned back toward him, my expression grim. "Exactly. And I want to know why she's here, and who she is. She's my guest now, so unless you want me to feed you to the sharks, shut up and do as you're told."

Harun opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips. He didn't argue further, and I took that as a sign to move on.

I carried the girl into my tent, ignoring the skeptical glances from the crew as they watched from the firelight. The air inside was warmer, the quiet a sharp contrast to the chaos outside. I laid her gently on the cot, her body seeming to sink into the softness of the makeshift bedding. I brushed her damp hair away from her face, studying her features closely. Pale, fragile, and unconscious, there was an odd sense of calm about her, as if she were caught between this world and the next. Yet, even in unconsciousness, there was something about her expression—a flicker of resilience, of quiet strength—that I hadn't expected.

My fingers instinctively moved to the jade pendant still nestled around her neck. The cool surface sent a shiver through me, and I couldn't help but trace the fine carvings with my thumb. The jade had an almost unnatural weight to it, a presence that seemed to hum with power. The old man's stories about ancient relics, curses, and hidden powers echoed in my mind, stories I had dismissed as mere superstition. But as I held the pendant, those tales didn't seem so far-fetched anymore.

I tightened my grip around the chain, the fine links wrapping around my palm like a secret. The weight of the pendant felt almost tangible, like the very air in the tent had changed, charged with something I couldn't place. A whisper of danger, perhaps, or a sense of destiny—or something darker.

I looked down at the girl, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. The faintest exhale of air escaped her lips. I couldn't shake the feeling that she was more than just a helpless stranger. There was a mystery around her, and I had just stepped into it, whether I liked it or not.

"You'd better not make me regret this," I muttered under my breath, my voice barely more than a whisper. The words hung in the air, the weight of them almost too heavy to carry. I wasn't sure why I felt this way, why I was making this choice. It was as if I'd been drawn into something I couldn't control.

The moment had passed. A decision had been made. And now, there was no going back. Whatever this was—whether it led to salvation or damnation—I'd have to see it through.