It was afternoon. The sun, a brilliant snowball in the sky, shone brightly, casting its warm rays through the windowpanes. Inside, against the wine-red walls, the light illuminated the room in a gentle glow. Zak removed the cloth from the boy’s forehead, dipped it into a bucket of water, and placed it back. The boy lay calm, in deep slumber, his fever having diminished.
Outside, the world was coming alive. The street below began to stir—horses’ hooves clattered on cobblestones, wagon wheels groaned, and faint chatter from the townspeople mingled with the din of various workshops. The rhythmic clang of iron being hammered echoed from a forge, while a smoked-meat vendor shouted to attract customers. The newly installed market stalls bustled with vendors vying for attention. The town, under the afternoon sun, seemed to have been waiting for the day’s heat to wane before bursting into life.
Back in the apartment, there was a relative calm. Zak stood by the window, his body on alert, his ears attuned—one focused on the street, the other on the door.
He was thinking about recent events—how he’d missed his target and why he was stuck in this town, in this room, without any action. The boy! What to do with him? Sunny had said he couldn’t trust the town’s law enforcement. So what now? Carry the boy with him? To go where? Find his relatives, maybe. But where to start? What to do?
But there’s no way I’m letting The Duke lay hands on the boy again!
Are you going to adopt him? his inner voice taunted.
No, of course not! Do you see me babysitting? Or taking him on my hunts? No. Surely his parents are somewhere on this island… but with The Duke involved, it’ll be difficult to find them.
What if…?
What if what? he asked himself.
What if they’re already dead?
Zak clenched his jaw, dismissing the thought.
Just let’s hope not—for the boy’s sake. What he needs now is his parents, and I promise I will find them and reunite them… if they’re still alive, he thought bitterly.
Through the window, he spotted Sunny stepping out of a car parked in front of the building. His thoughts churned again.
Who really is this man? Why is he so devoted to helping me?
There was something about Sunny—a shroud of mystery Zak couldn’t pierce. Since their encounter, Zak hadn’t felt the man was a threat. But what if he is? What if he’s complicit with The Duke?
Or… what if he is The Duke?
Zak flinched at the thought and simultaneously at the noise from door as he turned sharply. It was Sunny.
“How’s he doing?” Sunny asked as soon as he stepped inside, his eyes briefly scanning the room.
“Better. The fever’s gone down,” Zak replied, his gaze drifting to the bag Sunny carried.
Sunny walked to the table and set the bag down. He glanced at the boy, sighed, and began unpacking.
“Bread, seasoned meat, milk…” he listed as he laid the goods out. Then, holding up a bottle, he added,
“And whiskey.”
Zak’s face betrayed a subtle delight.
“Help yourself,” Sunny said.
“I think we should wake him up soon. He needs to eat, regain his strength.” he added.
Zak’s lips twitched in subtle approval, though his thoughts were elsewhere.
“What does ‘machine gun’ sounds to you?” Zak asked suddenly.
Sunny, caught off guard by the question’s brutality, looked confused.
“Sounds like nothing to me…”
Zak frowned.
“Gun like gun, maybe,” Sunny added, his tone quick and honest.
Zak approached him and scratched a grotesque drawing onto the wooden surface of the table, attempting to depict the weapon he’d encountered the previous night. Sunny stared at the crude sketch, his brow furrowing.
“And this?” Zak asked, surveying Sunny’s expression.
Sunny studied the drawing, his confusion evident.
“This doesn’t look like anything to me.”
Zak stood thoughtful for a moment before his lips parted.
“At the black market gathering, The Duke’s accountant presented this weapon—unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He called it a machine gun,” Zak said, his gaze distant, the scenes of the previous night replaying in his head.
Sunny stood silently, trying to visualize what the drawing might represent as Zak’s words hung in the air.
“It’s unlike any gun we know. It can fire several bullets in rapid succession. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. But there, that night, I was completely terrified,” Zak confessed, his face clouded by memories.
I’m terrified just looking at your face. Is he exaggerating? Anyway, he does seem genuinely frightened, just look at him!
“The weapon felt alive—its power palpable as it sent vibrations through the room.” Zak’s muscles reminiscing the night sensation.
“What you’re saying is that the slightly shaky floor I experienced last night was caused by a weapon crafted by Dodd?” Sunny asked, disbelief in his voice.
“Also, there were these low grinding sounds…” Sunny recalled.
“That’s it!” Zak confirmed, frozen in his memories.
“So, what happened next?” Sunny pressed, curiosity lighting his eyes.
“I went outside, following the mystery man…” Zak began but was cut off.
“A mysterious man?” Sunny asked, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Yes. Built like you. He was kind of… showing me the way,” Zak said, his tone thoughtful.
Sunny frowned.
“How?”
“I can’t tell…” Zak’s response lingered, his face clouded with confusion.
“What if someone wanted me to rescue the boy?” Zak wondered aloud, struggling to organize his thoughts.
“They would have shown up by now, don’t you think?” Sunny reasoned.
“Yeah, kind of…” Zak agreed, though his mind continued to spin.
“So, this mysterious man,” Sunny pressed, his curiosity clear.
“He’s the one who led you to the boy?”
“No, not really… but somehow, I ended up in this room where I found the boy—chained up,” Zak said, his voice hardening.
Who on earth would do that to a child? Dodd’s kind of people...
“In the room, there were drawings—dozens of them. They were scattered everywhere, from a table in the middle to the walls. Each one seemed different from the next,” Zak said, trailing off as the memory gripped him.
“Do you have any idea what those drawings represent?” Sunny asked insistently, eager for details.
“They’re all weapons—at least, I think so,” Zak replied thoughtfully.
“All of them?” Sunny wondered.
“The ones on the table included drawings of the weapon—the machine gun!” Zak added, his gaze shifting with sudden realization.
“And there were ink pots on the table too...”
Sunny straightened, crossing his large arms. His gaze thoughtful was attentive as Zak’s words lingered.
“What if the boy is the artist?” Zak said suddenly, moving to the bedside.
“Look at his hands. It’s not just his fingers—his entire hands are deeply stained, likely from prolonged interaction with ink.”
He lifted the young boy’s small hand, showing it to Sunny. The boy remained still, peacefully asleep.
“It makes sense. But when you think about the force Dodd is deploying to get him back, it becomes confusing. Why is he so important?” Sunny reasoned and questioned.
“Can’t you see? Maybe the boy is the only one talented enough to make those drawings!” Zak suggested.
“No!” Sunny cut in sharply.
“What?” Zak asked, startled.
“You said the drawings were difficult to understand. So what makes you think a kid could create them?” Sunny questioned, his skepticism evident.
“I don’t know,” Zak admitted defensively.
“But the ink stains on his hands...there has to be a connection.”
Sunny shook his head, his expression unreadable.
“Maybe, but not in the way you’re seeing it. I think there’s more to it.” He moved back to the chair near the table and sat down.
Zak furrowed his brow, confused.
“You know something you’re not telling me?”
Sunny sighed, his face unreadable.
“Alright, then tell me,” Zak said, pulling the chair from the bedside to sit facing Sunny.
“I’m listening.”
Sunny settled into his seat, his voice taking on a storyteller’s cadence, his gaze fixed directly on Zak’s.
“Let me tell you a tale—a real-life story,” Sunny began.
“It started back when piracy was about adventures, scout the seas to understand their depths—to find their edges. It happened, that era, right here in the west seas. Many ships sailed to the point of no return—crew and vessel never heard from again, just freezing ghosts wandering their familiar shores. But almost two hundred years ago, a daring and clever pirate named Edward Taught sailed further than anyone before him. The tale says he crossed the Ring...”
“The Ring?” Zak interrupted, his curiosity faint.
“A natural border that separates our world from the Farlands,” Sunny explained.
“There, sails catch no wind. Ships are stuck in still waters, and the crew goes mad as the months pass.”
Sunny noticed Zak’s lack of enthusiasm and paused.
Zak shrugged, tilting his head with a subtle smile.
“Sorry... I’m not the kind who believes in legends,” he admitted.
Sunny remained silent for a moment.
“Alright, how does this involve the boy?” Zak asked, feigning interest.
Sunny sighed, his early enthusiasm dimmed.
“Taught found a way to pass the Ring,” he continued.
“How?” Zak asked, now showing genuine interest.
“The tale says he was blessed with the wisdom of our ancestors. He crafted wheels for his ship—on the hull. The ship no longer needed the wind to advance; it used the very water it floated on. As their journey resumed, Taught and his crew reached the Farlands’ waters and eventually stranded on a shore where they discovered something no tale in our world has ever spoken of.”
Sunny paused.
“What exactly did they discover?” Zak asked quickly, his interest subtle.
“On that land, Taught and his crew found knowledge forbidden to our world. He recorded everything he could in his personal diaries. When he made it back to familiar shores, he intended to share what he’d discovered. But he was threatened with death, and his diaries vanished.”
“Why? Threatened by who, exactly?” Zak asked.
Sunny sighed.
“The history tellers—those who’ve woven, thread by thread, our world’s reality.” He revealed, his gaze darkening as he paused.
“Years passed, and no more tales of Taught’s discovery were heard on pirate ships until his son came out with the diaries. With the diary knowledge he could harness, he built a pirate’s realm in the south seas and dominated for decades. The tale says our world changed—the diaries’ knowledge brought sorrow. Blood shed into seas and towns collapsed. It all stopped when he was caught and executed by the World Navy...”
Zak frowned in curiosity.
“The World Navy?” he interrupted.
Sunny nodded.
“They burned the diaries publicly, but Taught’s son claimed the existence of a seventh diary that held the most powerful knowledges, hidden and waiting for his next heir. The World Navy turned the south seas upside down, slaughtering and demolishing towns in their search, but they never found the seventh diary—also known as the Seventh Book of Taught. Neither pirates, treasure hunters, nor governments ever laid eyes on its cover... until four years ago.”
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Sunny paused, shifting in his chair. Zak leaned in, subtle interest lighting his face.
“Rumors spread through the west seas with evidence of no ordinary weapons, owned by anyone who could afford them, claiming that a pirate had found the Seventh Book of Taught,” Sunny said.
“Two years ago, my investigation to find this pirate led me to this island,” Sunny continued.
“And what did you find?” Zak asked.
Sunny sighed.
“The pirate is Dodd—The Duke,” he revealed.
Zak’s interest became completely genuine.
“So, you’re here working in his hotel for the book? I mean, how can that be—I’ve never heard about it,” Zak remarked, deep in thought, then added,
“So what’s he using the boy for, then? His drawing skills?”
Sunny shook his head.
“Then what? He was chained up to the table...” Zak recalled, still struggling to piece things together as Sunny interrupted.
“We can’t assume it’s the boy’s drawings from the stains on his hands. It could be accidental or just simple contact,” Sunny said cautiously, avoiding jumping to conclusions.
“But... if it’s from him...” Sunny straightened in the chair, his forearms resting on his laps and he hands in each other.
“The book’s knowledges isn’t for every mind to understand. The boy might be one of the few who can decipher its content.”
Zak’s mind reeled, though he remained skeptical of the tales.
“I’m still dubious, but your story explains a lot of questions I’ve been asking about those drawings and the weapon he introduced,” Zak said, casting a questioning gaze at Sunny.
“So what are you? A pirate? A thief?”
Sunny stared at him for a moment before responding,
“I’m a man of curiosity,” his expression unreadable.
Zak froze briefly, then asked,
“So surely you’re not the only one who tracked The Duke to this town, right?”
“Many, actually... Numerous people tracked the book to here and ended up dead. So I decided to play it another way,” Sunny explained.
“By becoming a bartender in his hotel,” Zak said with a slight chuckle.
“That means the woman in the room where I found the boy surely came for it too,” Zak added.
“Who?” Sunny asked.
“There was a woman... She stopped my bullets with her swords,” Zak said, reminiscing.
“Wait, what? A woman? Stopping bullets?” Sunny said, struggling to understand.
“Um... I’m not really sure what happened back there,” Zak admitted.
“She was too fast. I’ve never seen anything like it before. She didn’t even try to fight me. I think she doesn’t work for The Duke,” Zak added, lost in his memories.
“Did she say anything about a book?” Sunny asked.
“She didn’t say anything, just seemed in a hurry to get out of the room,” Zak recalled.
“It’s obvious the boy is important to Dodd... but there’s still mysteries about him. We can only ask if he was awaken—who he is, where he’s from,” Sunny noted, glancing at Zak and then the boy.
Suddenly, Sunny beckoned Zak to turn around. The boy was awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed. He was staring at Sunny, plunging the room into a moment of deep silence.
Why is he looking at you like that? Weirdly like... that’s not what I meant to say...
“You’re not sitting comfortably. That’s because of your legs. They’re not the same length—one is shorter. You had a problem with your right leg, and you’re wearing a prosthetic. This inequality will make you limp. I can fix that!” declared the boy, his expression blank. Sunny leaned in, as speechless as Zak.
What’s going on? How does he know about my leg? No, that’s not the question... why is he repeating something everybody already knows? Did he just say he can fix your leg?
The boy’s attention shifted to Zak, his movements almost machine-like, slow and deliberate. He stared at Zak for what felt like an eternity, making the man uneasy.
“Your face is symmetric,” the boy observed, leaving Zak frozen in his thoughts.
“I want water,” he added, his head turning as he slowly scrutinized the room, as if trying to absorb every detail.
The two men stared at him, their expressions shifting from confusion to relief to one and admiration to another.
“You want some water? Got you!” Zak finally spoke, heading to the table to grab some water.
Oh my, he looks so innocent! I agree.
The boy took the water from Zak and drank it all, while both men froze, watching him finish every drop. When he was done, Zak retrieved the cup.
“Is that enough?” Zak asked. The boy remained silent.
“My name’s Zak,” he said, trying to capture the boy’s attention as the child’s gaze wandered around the room.
“And this is Sunny, a friend of mine...” he added, gesturing toward Sunny, who sank in his chair with arms crossed observing.
The boy’s gaze lingered on them, his intense stare seeming to look for something beyond their faces—not fear, but perhaps gratitude.
Zak and Sunny exchanged confused glances.
“Would you mind telling me your name?” Zak asked, reaching out to touch the boy’s ink-stained hands. The boy instinctively pulled his hands back but, after a long look at Zak, allowed him to take them.
Looking down at his hands in Zak’s, he finally said,
“Miko... my name is Miko.” lifting his head, his gaze piercing.
“Nice name, Miko. Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?” Zak asked cautiously.
Miko nodded.
“Where are your parents?” Zak asked gently.
Somehow, Zak’s words triggered something in Miko. He jerked his hands away from Zak, clutching his legs as he curled closer to the head of the bed, trembling.
“He’s coming! Miko, hide... hide! He’s coming! Miko, hide... hide! He’s coming! Miko, hide... hide!” he cried, panicking as tears filled his eyes.
Sunny leaned forward abruptly as Zak reached out to comfort the boy.
“Who’s coming?” the men asked simultaneously, their worry evident.
“Hey, Miko! Look at me. Nobody’s going to hurt you here. You’re safe with me,” Zak tried to reassure him, but it didn’t seem to help.
Sunny moved to the bedside. Zak stepped aside as Sunny sat on the bed and pulled Miko into his arms. The boy quickly clung to him, sobbing, his thin arms wrapped tightly around Sunny’s torso. The warmth of the embrace seemed to offer Miko the security he desperately sought.
“Shhh, kid. You’re safe. Shhh,” Sunny whispered, trying to calm him.
What’s going on? I don’t know... Something’s wrong with him—his behavior... Maybe it’s what he went through in that room. He’s stopped crying. Could he just be hungry?
“Miko, are you hungry?” Sunny asked softly.
“Uhh! That’s not fair, big man... I was going to ask that question!” Zak joked, attempting to lighten the mood. Sunny smirked, but Miko remained silent, his expression blank.
“Do you like milk? Bread?” Sunny asked.
Miko raised his head, glancing at the bread and bottle of milk Zak had brought. Sunny took some and offered it to him. The two men stepped away from the bed as Miko began eating.
Outside, the world grew livelier—the sound of horses galloping, distant chatter, laughter, and a mix of activity filled the air. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting warm hues of yellow and red. The room now featured shadowed corners, a breeze moving the white curtains of the slightly open window.
Near the table, the men spoke in hushed tones, avoiding Miko’s gaze as he ate.
“What do you think, hunter?” Sunny asked, his arms crossed, his eyes discreetly on the boy.
“I think it’s child abuse. In Beligram, they’d sentence this kind of thing to at least twenty years in prison!” Zak replied, sitting on the table while keeping an eye on Miko.
Sunny concerned.
“I want to know what you plan to do with him, not—”
“Considering your story, The Duke won’t stop until he gets him back. I think I should get him out of the town,” Zak said with a forced smile at eyes contact with Miko.
“How?” Sunny asked bluntly.
“I’ll have to find a safe way to the docks and—” Zak started, but Sunny cut him off.
“And what? You don’t have a good plan, hunter. Where do you think they’ll be waiting for you?” Sunny’s frustration was clear.
“Yes, but it’s the only way off this island!” Zak countered, lowering his voice.
“I may have a solution—I have a ship,” Sunny revealed.
“You have a ship?” Zak exclaimed, surprised but pleased.
“Not too big... two masts, manageable for two men to rig,” Sunny informed him.
“That’s great... How do we get to it?” Zak asked impatiently, his excitement evident.
“We’ll wait until nightfall,” Sunny said.
“Until nightfall? Fine.” Zak nodded, turning his attention to Miko, who was still holding a piece of bread, his mouth full.
He’s really hungry... Why wouldn’t they feed him properly if he’s so important? I don’t get it.
The afternoon passed quickly, giving way to the night sky. From the apartment window, twinkling stars could be seen, while the noisy atmosphere outside gradually diminished. Miko awoke, lying in bed with his hands crossed over his chest, his attention fixed on the white ceiling of the room. Zak and Sunny stood at the window, staring out onto the street.
“I hope everything’s clear,” Sunny said, glancing at Zak, who remained silent, seemingly lost in thought.
“Are you even listening to me?” Sunny asked, his tone more insistent as Zak continued peering through the glass.
“Look at those two men over there! They just got out of the car and are questioning the meat seller,” Zak pointed out, his voice low but sharp.
“Oh no! They’ve found us! I’ve seen that one before—he’s one of Dodd’s commanders!” Sunny replied urgently, his tone brimming with alarm.
“We have to get to the dock, now!” Zak said firmly, rushing over to the boy.
Zak knelt down beside Miko.
“Hey, little man, it’s time to go. Are you ready?”
The boy, motionless, turned his head slightly toward Zak and asked calmly,
“Why?” His gaze was naive, completely oblivious to the urgency of the situation, before he turned his head back toward the ceiling.
“The bad guys want to take you back to the basement,” Sunny interjected insistently, though Zak gave him a disapproving glance.
The boy said nothing, remaining still.
“Hey, listen to me... we have to go,” Zak pleaded, his frustration building.
“Where?” the boy asked with the same calmness.
“I don’t... um... I don’t know...” Zak stammered, his frustration and nervousness evident.
Sunny approached,
“Hey, kid, listen to me. Do you want to go back in there... the room...?” he asked urgently, his tone hopeful that Miko would understand, while Zak continued to look displeased.
“We should go,” Miko said suddenly, his gaze briefly meeting Sunny’s, leaving the men stunned.
As they prepared to leave, noises came from the door. Zak quickly moved Miko behind him as Sunny cautiously approached the door, his heart racing. Just as he reached for the handle, Mr. Baku’s voice came from the other side.
“Sunny! Sunny! Some men have come asking about a kidnapper. I trust you, but I don’t want any trouble with my establishment...” Mr. Baku shouted, his voice laced with concern.
“I need a car. Can you get me one, quickly?” Sunny shouted back rapidly, pressing his ear cautiously against the wooden surface of the door.
“My driver is across the street...” Mr. Baku answered.
“Which one?” Sunny asked sharply at the window.
“The one with the door painted with red flowers. My driver will take you anywhere,” Mr. Baku finished. Sunny glanced at Zak, his expression questioning as he silently sought his opinion.
“You should get in the car and, on my signal, tell the driver to come to the entrance,” Zak instructed.
“Good,” Sunny nodded before carefully unlocking the door and disappearing into the hallway.
“Miko, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. Stay close to me,” Zak said, his voice reassuring. Miko responded with a silent nod. Zak glanced down at Miko’s feet—bare. He couldn’t get one right now.
In the lobby, just off the stairs, Sunny spotted a group of men approaching the establishment’s glass door, led by the commander. Alarmed, Sunny immediately turned back and rushed upstairs.
He burst into the room, Zak already aiming his gun.
“Hey! Hey! It’s me! We’ve got to go, now!” he shouted with urgency.
“What? Wait, wha...?” Zak didn’t finished, confused, as he grabbed Miko’s wrist and rushed out of the room.
The brightly lit alleyway was lined with doors on either side. Sunny, leading the way, suddenly stopped and urged Zak and Miko to step back.
Behind them, a group of men appeared, one of them shouting,
“Here they come!” before whistling sharply.
The commander bellowed, “Kill the men—I want the boy alive!”
Sunny, Zak, and Miko began to run, with Dodd’s henchmen hot on their heels. They tried opening several doors, but all were locked. They were now trapped, nowhere to go.
The henchmen blocked the alley as they cleared the way for the commander.
“Ah, the bartender! I’m surprised. You had this planned all along?” the man remarked, his ivory complexion illuminated by the sconce’s light.
“Someone’s got to take the bad guy down,” Sunny replied, forcing a smile.
“You mean you, right? Cause I don’t see any other here,” the commander retorted with a brief chuckle.
“You’re right to be ashamed... but don’t worry, you can still do the right thing,” Sunny said, his mind racing.
“And what’s that, exactly?” the commander asked.
“Talk to your men and return...” Sunny’s words were cut off by the sudden laughter of Dodd’s henchmen.
“You’re a fool to take on The Duke! Tonight, you’ll regret this,” the commander threatened, his voice cold as his comrades nodded in agreement.
“Alright, everybody, calm down,” Zak interjected lightly, trying to talk them out of it.
“I could pull out my guns and kill you all before you even react. Don’t try—”
“Who are you again? I’ve never seen you before,” the commander interrupted, his tone more serious than mocking.
“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Zak cut him off coolly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge.
“Kill the men! And I repeat—I want the boy unharmed,” the commander barked, turning away.
Dodd’s henchmen brandished their cold weapons as they launched a wild attack. Zak, enraged, shielded Miko as he drew out a gun and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed rapidly and loudly through the alley, followed by a sudden sharp scream from Miko. His hands covered his ears, visibly in pain, as he crouched against the wall, his head between his legs as he cried. The commander, who had paused at the shot, froze for a moment, his gaze locked on the dead body of his man before an intense rage flooded his face.
Zak retained his next shot and quickly knelt down beside the boy. Sunny’s attention didn’t linger on them, as he turned to deliver a deadly blow to the first of Dodd’s men within reach. Sunny felt the man’s chest bones cracking from the strength of his punch as the man’s body was sent flying back. He rushed to confront another, dodged his weapon, and grabbed him by his suit. The man felt weightless in Sunny’s hands as he hit him, groaning with rage, slamming him multiple times against the walls of the alley before throwing him against his comrades.
Sunny didn’t have time to blink as the enraged commander drew his gun and started shooting at him. The shots landed in his own men’s bodies, as Sunny used them as shields while advancing. The commander’s angry expression shifted to fear as Sunny reached him. Rapidly dropping a corpse, Sunny grabbed the commander’s shooting arm and elbowed one of his men in the face, breaking his nose. He then punched the commander in the face before grabbing his head with his large hand and knocking him out by slamming it against the wall.
Though Sunny’s size was imposing, his movements were fluid and fast, a true force against Dodd’s men. He punched, kicked, broke, and knocked out anyone within reach. But there were too many of them, and soon Sunny knew he would wear out. His sweat-drenched body glistened under the light from the sconces, his muscles already beginning to tire, his breathing quickening. Behind him, Miko was pinned against the wall, screaming and crying in pain, while Zak desperately tried to console the boy.
The alley was a cacophony of sounds—Miko’s cries, the screams of Dodd’s men under attack, and now their cries of pain as Sunny advanced.
“... I know you’re in pain... but you see... we can’t stay here... we have to go,” Zak crouched, trying to persuade urgently in frustration, the boy’s head in his hands, their faces close.
Miko’s attention shifted to Sunny, whose fatigue was evident—his attacks were slowing, and he was out of breath as he fought Dodd’s men. The boy’s cries suddenly softened to a whisper as he looking at Sunny, then at Zak. The hunter took it as a let’s go and swiftly grabbed him.
Suddenly, both Sunny and Zak’s attention was caught by a series of clanking sounds coming from the other side of the alley.
“Do you have anyone who can use a blade that you failed to mention?” Zak asked, raising his voice, while hiding Miko behind him.
“No! Do you?” Sunny shouted, breath rapid, his eyes narrowed as he punched a man repeatedly in the stomach before grabbing him by his suit’s collar and slamming him into the wall.
Dodd’s men shifted their focus too, their expressions changing from confusion to curiosity at the clanging sounds.
Ahead of them, Sunny caught a brief glimpse of the newcomer—a woman in a black outfit, her face half-veiled by a muffler—before she dragged Dodd’s men downstairs like a tide pulling away debris.
Zak and Miko caught up with Sunny as they descended the stairs into the lobby, where an intense battle was already underway, the sound of blades clashing filling the air. Behind them in the alley, many of Dodd’s men lay agonizing on the ground.
As they finished descending the stairs, they had a clear view of the woman surrounded by Dodd’s men. She moved with incredible agility, effortlessly overpowering her armed opponents.
What on earth is she? Is she the woman the hunter mentioned? Why... why is she fighting Dodd’s henchmen? What is she doing here in the first place...?
Zak was also observing, deep in thought, a subtle expression of admiration on his face as he noticed Sunny’s questioning glance.
“It’s her!” Zak confirmed, gripping Miko tightly.
When they reached the woman, she glanced at them and motioned with her sword for them to follow. The boys hesitated but felt compelled to comply.
As they left the establishment, more men waiting in carriages ran after them, armed. Following the woman’s example, they found themselves in a narrow street with no apparent way out.
“There’s no escape!” Zak observed, worried.
“Close your eyes, gentlemen, and hold on to me!” the woman shouted, pulling a tiny vial from a pouch attached to her belt. She threw it to the ground, and it exploded in a blinding flash of light