Chapter 7: Executioner II

The [Executioner] remained silent as Leo carefully began his story. She barely moved or reacted at all. It was uncanny how still she was, and Leo felt himself growing increasingly antsy the longer he spoke.

Still, the [Thief] kept his voice steady as he began first with yesterday morning, the gathering of the money after five grueling years, getting beaten by the guards, then deciding to steal the badges—emphasizing the hardship. He laid it all out.

His voice slowed when he got to the notification. From what he’d seen, Spade didn’t have a fragment like the prison warden did, but he was still hesitant to mention it when he was still getting over the shock of the announcement. So, Leo elected to keep it vague, cutting to him getting caught and dragged to the prison.

He carefully did not mention Allan by name, simply referring to him as a friend. It looked like Aldas had kept his word, but that didn’t mean the warden wouldn’t eagerly send the [Rickshaw Puller] to execution, too.

The [Thief] heaved a sigh, turning his eyes to the side with a wistful look. Not too exaggerated to seem insincere, but enough to hopefully elicit some emotions. “I guess none of it mattered in the end.”

Spade hummed. “I see. That’s unfortunate.”

Leo eyed her warily. He couldn’t tell how sincere the sentiment was, couldn’t read her at all, and the thought was unsettling.

“I just feel bad for my friend,” he said in a quieter voice. “I wish I could apologize properly, for all the shit I got him involved in. Maybe if I’d done something different…” His voice trailed, and he made a frustrated noise.

Spade listened silently for a moment. And then, she raised a scarred eyebrow.

“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?”

Leo winced internally. Maybe he’d been more obvious about it than he’d thought. This was why he usually let Allan handle this kind of thing.

He met eyes with the [Executioner]. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw a spark of amusement there. Maybe he could work with that. His lips pulled into a thin smile.

“Depends. Is it working?”

“You’re not a bad storyteller.” Spade hummed. “And I can understand your struggles.”

She cocked her head. “Unfortunately, pity has never been enough for me to release someone before. My reputation would suffer.”

The pity route wouldn’t work, then. That was fine; Leo hadn’t really expected it to anyway, at least not by itself. He leaned forward a little until he was nearly up against the cell bars.

“…What if you got something out of it?”

“Executioners earn a fairly high wage. I’m sure you already know that.”

Leo’s lips thinned. “I do.” He exhaled, steadying himself. “I’m not talking about money.”

Spade raised a scarred eyebrow, and Leo took that as his cue to continue.

“You got that notification. You know about the [Administrator] fragments.” He kept his voice steady and even. “I can tell who has them. I can get you one.”

The [Executioner] was silent for a few moments, simply studying him. Leo didn’t back down despite how unnerving those eyes were. They were pure grey and without a single trace of color. Finally, she cocked her head.

“Even if I were to believe you, I have little use for a fragment with no defined power. I’m a professional. Executioners have more than simply laws to fear.”

Leo couldn’t argue with that. There were countless stories of [Executioners] getting mobbed and killed on the spot if the crowd thought a beheading wasn’t clean enough or if they slipped at all.

It was better for the [Executioners] who were over Tier 1, but safety still wasn’t a guarantee with that job. Based on Spade’s current level despite her obvious experience, Leo guessed she hadn’t been given a class crest until very recently.

“The warden, that personal skill of his. Did it look stronger to you?”

That got her attention. Leo kept pressing, trying to sound as confident as he could.

“He has a fragment, that’s why it was stronger. Those fragments act like amps. Think about the possibilities if you had one. You might not be able to switch classes, but that wouldn’t matter if you had that kind of power.”

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Spade was quiet for a few moments, and Leo thought she might actually be considering it. And then, a smile spread across her scarred features.

“I didn’t realize people knew I was Tier 1.”

Leo froze, thoughts stilling as he realized what he’d just said. Spade’s smile widened.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?”

“That’s better for you, right?” Leo countered. “Goes to show I really can see people’s stats.” This was fine, he told himself. He was already planning on revealing his ability anyway.

“Well, I do believe you on that part. It’s certainly a useful skill, especially now. I imagine there’ll soon be a wave of people hunting for those fragments.”

“…What’re you implying?”

The woman chuckled. “Did you really think I’d believe you would hand a fragment over for free, when we have no idea how rare they’ll be? This is an ideal opportunity for you to get one for yourself.”

Leo’s jaw clenched. She’d seen through him after all. The fingers of his uninjured hand clenched into a fist, and he met her gaze, eyes hard.

“What do you want?” The fact that she was still talking to him meant she still had something to gain from the conversation, or she would’ve left the second she realized he wasn’t serious about handing a fragment over.

“Oh, it’s quite simple.” Spade’s eyes seemed to gleam in the thin beam of light from the door, the grey shining like metal.

“I have no interest in the fragments themselves. Frankly, I don’t care who becomes the new [Administrator]. It doesn’t concern me.” She cocked her head. “I have another proposition.”

Leo didn’t move. “What?”

“I’d like to join your party.”

At that, the [Thief] couldn’t hold back his disbelieving laugh.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m searching for someone.” Spade shrugged, the movement perfectly casual. “I may not be interested in the fragments myself, but many others will be.”

“So, what, you think you’ll run into this ‘someone’ if you hunt fragments too?”

The [Executioner]’s smile remained infuriatingly calm. “Something like that.”

Outside the door, the muffled sound of footsteps crossed the room. Leo froze instinctively, waiting as a shadow passed the thin slit, then disappeared from view. He was running out of time, he realized. Once Spade left, there was no telling if anyone else would show up. This could very well be his only chance.

Leo silently pulled up the party map again. Allan’s dot was now moving away from the area, and it was unmistakably heading towards the prison. On one hand, Leo was happy his friend hadn’t abandoned him, but on the other, he really hoped the [Rickshaw Puller] didn’t do anything too dangerous. Normally Allan was pretty level headed, but he had his…impulsive moments.

The [Thief]’s eyes darted back to Spade. Her suggestion was suspicious as fuck, and he didn’t trust her even remotely. This whole situation had spiraled wildly out of his control, far beyond what he’d predicted. But at the same time, if he could just get out of this cell, then he could find a way to slip away later and meet up with Allan.

“Fine.” He pulled himself to his feet, and his legs wobbled a little from sitting for so long. The [Executioner] did the same, rising to her full height. He eyed her warily.

“You gonna let me out?”

“I don’t have the keys, I’m afraid.”

Leo opened his mouth, but before he could retort, Spade reached into the pouch attached to her belt and pulled out a very familiar lockpick. Leo’s jaw clicked shut, and he stared at them as the [Executioner] held them through the bars.

“They were on Sebastian’s desk. I assume you’ll be able to undo the lock yourself.”

The [Thief] barked a laugh, half disbelieving, half hysterical.

“You asshole,” he breathed.

If Spade had bothered to grab his lockpick before coming here, that meant she’d planned on letting him go from the start. All of that talking, his poor attempts at eliciting pity, the circular conversation and stress—they hadn’t meant shit.

Leo grabbed the tools and walked over to the lock, and Spade barely even raised an eyebrow. The [Thief] stretched his uninjured arm through the bars and began fiddling with the lock.

As expected, it was fairly complicated, and he cursed a little under his breath as his attempts continued to fail and he grew increasingly impatient, aware of the shortage of time. He had to get out before Allan got here.

He bit his lip. He had 100 points left from his last level up, which would be just enough to raise his [Lockpick Proficiency] skill to level 2. Passive skills leveled from use alone and didn’t require points like active skills did, so he really didn’t want to use the points here. At the same time, getting out of here was the most important. He inhaled, putting the points into the skill, and felt his hand and lockpick move more smoothly. His brows furrowed in concentration.

Finally, several seconds later, the lock clicked and the cell door creaked open. Relief flooded through Leo, and he shoved the lockpick back into his pocket. He hurriedly stepped out, glad to be out of that confined space, the damp smell and constant chill, the—

Not now, Leo told himself. He exhaled. He still had to get out of the prison itself.

His eyes landed on Spade, who stood waiting by the metal door. She’d made no move to help with the lock, simply observing him. Now, she raised a scarred eyebrow and nodded silently at the hallway.

Leo’s fingers clenched.

“Let’s get out of here.”