A thick bolt flies past and I duck back behind the corner, checking my body. That was too close.

“Maybe we could talk!” I peek out from behind the corner, looking through the slits in my mask. I’m greeted by a row of archers. One of them grins, the cheeky bastard. He probably thinks this is funny. I dive back around the corner, nearly avoiding being turned into a pincushion by a hail of arrows. A chuckle of laughter echoes off the walls while I take deep breaths. Yeah, he definitely thinks it’s funny.

Leaning against the wall, I let out a long breath, wrinkling my nose as the air bounces back in my mask. Note to self: no curry before missions. My eyes flick to the right, noting the corpses and marks on the walls; it’s been a long night. Is that idiot archer still laughing?

“Hey,” I call out, sliding closer to the corner, gripping the handles of my kusarigama harder. The curved blades gleam in the light as the weighted chains scrape on the polished wooden floors. I wonder who their floor guy was? Naiomi could use a floor guy, but she’d kill me just for saying that. “What’s so funny?”

An arrow flies past, clacking against the wall in front of me. Prick. “No, seriously, I want to know!” I let smooth wooden handles slide through my palm. Gripping the weighted end of the chain in my hand, the small curved blade rests on the floor, swinging gently like a pendulum.

“The funny thing?” His voice is a little high pitched for private security, even by the standards in Malor. And boy, do we have some low standards.

“Yeah,” I sidle closer, blade scraping against the floor. Keep talking. That’s right.

“We grew up hearing scary stories about Inari’s agents, the Kitsune; and now that we’ve met one…well,” I can hear the other guards lick their lips, a few chortles passing between them. The air tastes metallic, and every breath through my nose brings in the stink of sweat soaked leather. And a little bit of urine. But that’s just Malor. Gods, I hope Naiomi has the shower fixed. “I honestly don’t know what all the fuss was about.” Arrogant little son of a bitch, ain’t he?

“Well you see,” I slide closer. “The thing is,” My foot edges around the corner. No bows creaking, no rustling of swords and armor. Good. “I’m not—”

I dive out and sling my blade out in an arc, but the hallway proves too narrow. My weapon clangs uselessly against the metal wall.

“Shit,” Fortunately the loud sound echoes, causing all the guards to jump. Yep, those low hiring standards in action. With a quick movement, the weighted chain slams into the other guards. That one moment is all I need.

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I scramble to my feet, sliding forward. I collide with one of the guards, gutting him with the curved point of my blade. With so much blood on my boots, it’s difficult to keep traction. Ruined boots: just another part of the job.

I step hard on one of the fallen guard’s faces, slicing one of the archers across the throat. I pivot, covering my enemies in a whirlwind of deep gashes and cuts. There. That should do it.

Arms wrap around my torso from behind, pinning my arms. I roll my eyes behind my mask. Amateur. I kick my legs out behind me, smiling at the pained groan. Poor you. I twist, breaking the guard’s grip, and land in a low crouch. Before the unlucky bastard can react, I’ve scrambled atop him and slit his throat. The low creak of a bowstring being drawn behind me sounds out, forcing me to pause. That same high pitched voice from before mutters curses behind me. Gods, it makes me want to drive my own blade through my skull.

I slowly stand, weapons held beside my head. Deep breaths now, in and out. Don’t kill the twerp. Yet.

“Easy there now,” The thing about a mask, it doesn’t allow great peripheral vision. “Let’s not do anything you’ll regret.”

I notice the shadow of the archer behind me on my left. Boy, am I glad I wore my red vest today. Well, one of them. I hate washing out blood. I move my right foot a little and the archer’s breath hitches.

“Don’t!” His voice is shaking. How old is he? Twenty? “Don’t. Move.”

“Or what?” I shift my weight a little more to the right.

“I’ll shoot!” Likely story. And I eat rat-free meat pies.

The blade of my kusarigama slings back while I drop into a crouch. When I hear the snap of my blade cutting through the bowstring, I send the weighted chain of my other weapon flying through the air. The chain wraps around his throat, and I hear a satisfying crunch when I snap the chain, breaking his neck. I look from the young guard up to the wooden door in front of me and take a moment to rest.

Sabotage guard barracks for a distraction? Check. Infiltrate secure compound? Check. Kill all the guards? Check-a-roony. Now to break into the locked vault just past this wooden door, and in four short hours, get paid. The things I do for money!

The door opens silently, my breathing erratic. Man, I really gotta stay away from curry next time. From the echo of my breath I can tell the room isn’t huge, but it’s not a small box either. I stay crouched low to the ground, moving closer to the wall. Note to self: next time bring matches. I hear a soft click underneath me and immediately leap back, rolling through the door I came from. For a moment, all is silent. I slowly open my eyes, uncurling from the ball I had been huddled in. Gonna be honest, not the loud explosion I was expecting. Suddenly, the room floods with light, momentarily blinding me. When my vision clears, I backpedal through the door and slam it shut, breathing heavily, swearing softly. Maybe there’s another way in.

A large, spiked-metal ball crashes through the wood next to my head and I flinch away, whirling around. The ball slowly retreats, the sound of rustling chains and soft cranking causing sweat to drip down my temples. Soft, metallic, grumbles steadily mount in volume, coming from the hole in the wall. Time to leave.

A huge metal monstrosity crashes through the door, taking out chunks of the wall with its hulking frame. Shit! I bolt down the hallway away from the beast, pumping my legs for all they’re worth. For a moment, I think I might survive this. Then my foot slips.