Sorin waited till the count of ten before heading to a dark corner of the room. He took a step using Dance of the Tailer biter and appeared in the alleyway just outside the gentlemen’s club.

“Three. Two. One.” A window slid open to reveal a blurry figure moving at high speed. “Come on, don’t be that way, love,” Sorin called out. “It’s been so long. We have so much to talk about!”

Sorin gave chase to the individual, and when it became clear that physical speed would be insufficient to escape, the Agent of Jealousy Sorin had tangled with in Delphi drew on its corruption, confirming her status. Then she dove into a crowded street. Her aura vanished, and the skeletal old man she’d bene disguised as was nowhere to be found.

Unfortunately for the agent, Sorin was now much more than a physician who happened to run into the occasional agent. He was a predator, one with ample means to track down his quarry. A quick scan with his spiritual senses was all it took to identify the woman a bright purple purse as his mark.

Sorin appeared beside the woman and slipped his arm around her elbow. “You can’t run, you know. You’ve been marked by yours truly, and I’m determined to sit down for a chat.”

“Typical aggressive male,” said the agent before shattering like a broken mirror, provoking a gasp from the crowd. The commotion alerted the authorities, who proceeded to activate the lightning cage. Sorin flexed his spiritual senses to inform the Zeiss Clan that it was handled, and the city-wide monitoring formation desisted.

The connection was growing increasingly blurry, but Sorin easily found his mark and took another step. He found himself inside a small and suspicious dark room.

“A safe room, or a death trap?” Thousands of blades answered his question. “Oh well. It was worth a shot.”

Red-Eyed Devourer melted the blades and even the room keeping Sorin sealed. Blood flowed back into Sorin’s wounds, and they vanished as though they’d never been.

He took another a step and found himself in a corridor. A scream from Nemesis alerted him to a surprise attack, so he brought up a gauntleted hands to block a dagger.

“Are you sure you want to drag this out?” Sorin asked the agent. “Look at your arm. You’ve been poisoned.”

The agent looked down at her arm and saw that it was black and rotting. “Will you just leave me alone?” Her image shattered once again, but this time, she was only able to transfer her position to a bath house a few hundred meters away.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” said Sorin, appearing in the same bath house. “Your kind is too difficult to track down. If I give up now, there’s no telling when I’ll run into you next.”

“Then don’t!” snapped the Agent. “We’re on the same side. There’s no need for all this.” She was naturally referring to the Strife-aligned corruption he was actively giving off.

The Agent of Jealousy shattered once again, and this time, Sorin and his quarry appeared in the sewer system. “You can run away this time. I won’t stop you. But you should know that there’s no cure for the poison I infected you with. Only I can remove it from your body.”

“Go die in a fire,” spat the Agent of Jealousy as she vanished in another puff of pink smoke.

This time, Sorin didn’t follow her and held out his right arm instead. He counted down the seconds on his watch as the string of karma connecting them faded to practically nothing, then took one final step.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t follow,” said the agent. This time, the Agent of Jealousy didn’t run. Her beautiful skin was covered in tiny cuts where her flesh was being eaten away.

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“I lied,” said Sorin. “Now are we going to talk, or are you going to give up on life? Something tells me there’s nothing you value more than your pitiful existence.”

“What do you want?” asked the Agent of Jealousy angrily. “I’ll hear you out. But first, you’ll need to heal me. I’d rather die than be unduly pressured by one of you manipulative bastards.”

Sorin approached the agent and pressed a finger to her forehead. A stream of red poison exited her body and re-entered Sorin’s.

As this happened, a stream of Strife entered the Agent of Jealousy and reinforced their connection. Now, it would be impossible for her to run away from him.

“The poison is cured but know that I can now poison you using our karmic connection,” said Sorin. “Your life is in my hands.”

“Great,” said the agent. “It’s hard enough sowing chaos without getting strongarmed into serving some prick or another. Shouldn’t you be busy plotting with the nobility or something? Or are you just a backup agent in case the first one screws up? Last I checked, there aren’t many of you out there.”

Sorin scoured his memories to find the context and answer in a believable way “I recently got assigned to Olympia on an independent mission and I need a guide. You will be that guide. Consider yourself conscripted, by the authority of the Herald of Strife.”

The agent didn’t seem too impressed with his words until the last word hit her. “That’s impossible,” said the agent. “The Herald of Strife has been inactive for over three centuries.”

All Sorin had to do to convince her was release a hint of the corruption oozing out form Azrakul’s prison.

The agent flinched and lowered her head. “I live to serve.”

“Excellent,” said Sorin. “Three of my companions, including a Night Hawk will be arriving shortly. Pretend you’ve been subdued by force and are quite indignant about it.”

“I was subdued by force, you maniac,” she hissed. “I am indignant about it.”

“Excellent, you already know your lines,” said Sorin. “The others will be showing up in three, two, one…”

An arrow blasted through the wall, causing the building they were in to shake. A shadow flitted into the room and filled it with dense strings. Finally, a burning rat shot into the room and made a beeline for the frightened agent on the floor. Lorimer began squeaking intimidating words and all manner of expletive Sorin had definitely never taught him.

“Are you alright?” asked Gareth, walking into the room. “Did you manage to capture your mark?”

“I barely managed, and was about to collar her,” said Sorin. His disguise faded, and he winked as he took a collar from his Hero Medal and slapped it around the calculating agent’s neck. “What about your crime lord. Dead?”

“Took a poison pill,” confirmed Gareth.

“That’s life, I guess. You remember our agreement?”

Gareth shrugged. “As long as you can convince her to get us into that place, I have no problems making a deal. That’s assuming she doesn’t blow our cover.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get her to cooperate,” said Sorin. “She just had the pleasure of experiencing Red-Eyed Devourer. In my experience, over 99% of those who’ve suffered are satisfied with a single dose. I wonder if she’ll be part of the one percent that helps me quantify how well people build up a resistance to the poison.”

The Agent of Jealousy shivered. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just… spare me.”

“Excellent!” said Sorin, holding out his hand for the burning rat to climb onto. “Who’s a good boy? Lorimer’s a good boy! Anyway, our request is simple: you are to get me and my three companions into the Undercity without exposing our identities and show us around for a week or two. Can you do it?”

The Agent of Jealousy gave them an incredulous look. “You captured me to access the Undercity? Why not just purchase an identity like normal people do? It happens all the time.”

Sorin coughed in his sleeve. “Our situation is unique. We’d rather not go through the normal vetting process.”

“There is no vetting process,” hissed the agent. “All you need to do is… oh. Jealousy save me, you’re marked by the Hyde Clan, aren’t you?”

“Bingo!” said Sorin. “So answer the question, can you do it? I’d hate to have to kill you after taking the trouble to track you down.”

The Agent of Jealousy licked her lips. “I can get you access and identities. That’s not a problem. The problem is whether or not you’ll blow your cover once you’re in there. And whether or not Ratten Hyde is there. If you’ve been marked, he’ll know you on sight, regardless of what I do.”

“And it won’t be a problem for my friend here?” asked Sorin, nodding to Gareth.

The agent rolled her eyes. “Night Hawks go there all the time. That said, they’re very picky about who they send, for under stable reasons.”

“You don’t need to worry about protecting our cover,” said Sorin. “All you need to do is get us in, show us around, and not divulge our suspected identities.”

“Fine,” said agent. “But I won’t help you unless we sign a contract. I can promise under contract to protect your identities, but you must all swear that you’ll let me go and will no longer take any aggressive actions against me.”

Sorin shrugged. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll even let you be the one to draft the contract. My friend here is very motivated when it comes to hunting down and killing corrupted individuals. I’m sure he’d love any excuse to cut off your pretty head.”