Lycus watched the coffin be lowered into the ground. He rather liked its design. After all, he had picked it out himself.

His funeral was smaller than he’d hoped. Apart from the few members of low nobility that had deigned to show up, it was populated by a few dozen peasants that were curious enough to stop by in the downpour. It was enough for the rumor to spread, if barely.

…

Lycus wandered seemingly erratically through the slums, whistling a tune. Another man walked down the street a block behind. He took a turn into an alleyway. The man followed. Lycus took another turn. He sped up once he had broken line of sight with his pursuer. The nondescript man following him emerged from the alleyway, did a double take at how far Lycus was from him, and booked it after him. The man was slightly faster than Lycus. While Lycus was more fit, he was wearing a soaked cloak.

Lycus ran into an alleyway and threw a pile of trash behind him. He heard a grunt and a thud behind him as the man tripped over the trash and was sent tumbling.

He turned another corner and was brought up short by two unkempt-looking men leaning against either side of the alleyway.

“Look man, we know you don’t want any trouble. We don’t want it either. All we want is a little donation.” Said the one on the left, lightly tapping his club against his hand.

“Yeah,” said the one on the right with a nasally voice. “Donate to us or we’ll donate our clubs to your legs.

“Sirs, I would love to donate to your enterprise here, but I’m afraid I’ve only got my cloak and the boots on my feet,” Lycus said. He tapped his boot on the ground.

“Oh, so he thinks he’s a refined man with all of his fancy words. Refined men always have something to donate to us.” The man on the left said. His eyes subtly glanced behind Lycus. Both thugs moved into Lycus’ personal space.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Lycus glanced down at the puddle beneath his feet. A dark outline was approaching his back. He tapped his foot a second time.

“Since you so kindly insist, I’ve decided to bequeath you my boots.” Lycus bent down as if to unbuckle his boots.

“And your cloak.” Said the man on the right.

“And my cloak.” Lycus amended.

He tapped his boot on the floor a third time. In the same motion, he whipped his hand out of his black cloak and punched the woman that had been sneaking up behind him. He had brass knuckles on his hand. Before the thugs had time to react, he ran back the way he came. His pursuer was just entering the intersection between the alleyways. Lycus ran just ahead of him into a third alleyway.

“Get him!” The thugs roared behind him. They ran into the intersection and ran into his pursuer. A brief scuffle occurred until they realized that the man wasn’t their prey. “You idiots!” Yelled the man who had following Lycus. “Do you have any idea who you just let go? Split up. I’ll give you whatever you want if you just catch him.”

…

As Lycus passed a sleeping beggar he swapped his luxurious black cloak for their ratty brown one. Turning a corner, he quickly spread refuse over his clothes and his skin. He hunched down in his new cloak. He looked just like another one of the homeless. He stayed there, face covered and pretending to be in a starvation haze.

Frantic footsteps rushed by him. A little while later another set passed by. Then nothing. Lycus picked himself off the ground half an hour later. He brushed the worst of the refuse off himself and set off down the alleyway at a brisk pace. A smirk flashed across his face as he imagined what the look on their faces must’ve been. The sun had come out, he had a new cloak, and he had lost his tail.

He strolled through the slums until he found himself in a dead end. He knocked on a door set in the back of one of the buildings and waited.

“Nobody’s home.” A voice came from inside.

“I’m looking for the boss. Tell him Lycus’ here.”

A few minutes later the door opened. “He’ll see you upstairs.” The door warden recoiled at Lycus’ scent. “Don’t touch anything.”

Lycus opened the door to the boss’ office. “Javierrr. How’s it going?”

“Lycus! It’s good to see you bro.” The heavyset man got up to go in for a hug. Then he got a whiff of Lycus and recoiled. “You smell like you’ve been sleeping in a pigsty.”

“Had to shake a tail or two.” Lycus flopped down in a chair.

“Ugh. I’m going to have to burn that chair you know.” Javier said. A smile was stretched across his face. “I thought you were working that noble gig?”

“I was. It went south. Still going to pull it off, just need a place to stay for the time being. Hopefully a bath too.” Lycus chuckled.

“You sure you want us to continue with the plan? It was already risky before they heightened security.”

“Yeah yeah. I’m sure. This’ll be my last job anyways.”

“Uh huh. Suuure it will be. But yeah, I got a place for you bro. You can take as much time in my bath as you want. Go take one now. I’ll have fresh clothes waiting for you when you get out.”

“Aww. I wanted to catch up.” Lycus stool up and headed to his bath.

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