That night, all the excavation teams at the Rhine Gold site ceased their work. The workers retreated to their temporary shacks to rest. It wasn't that they didn't want to return to proper housing, but their rentals were simply too far from the site; commuting back and forth was impractical.
They made do by setting up shelters in the areas of the facility that hadn't collapsed. Nightfall, however, belonged to the assassins. The two Lazurites from the Kazimierz Armorless Union began their busy period of overtime.
"I'm starting to really miss little Platinum," Roy remarked. "Someone who can handle these trivialities and act as the primary fall guy when things go wrong... I really think we should add another Platinum position."
Roy clearly had complaints about having to do the legwork himself. If there were more Platinums, he'd only need to bring one along to solve everything. If the mission succeeded, the credit would go to his leadership as a Lazurite. He could even claim he was "diligent in training subordinates" to secure more funding and favor from the Darksteel (Xuantie).
If the mission failed, it was no big deal. Each failure would simply require the sacrifice of one Platinum. Platinums were essentially consumables, there would be plenty of replacements waiting in the wings!
"So you finally realized that one Platinum isn't enough for you to burn through?" Monique said testily, looking at Roy's infuriating smile.
She had heard that since Roy became a Lazurite, the workload of successive Platinums had increased exponentially. Several had even been "sacrificed" after failing missions due to overwork and exhaustion. Yet, Roy's breezy expression often fooled the Platinums into thinking he was easier to talk to than her. Monique could only conclude that was exactly why they remained at the Platinum rank.
Though Monique hadn't seen this bastard's original hair color in years, she had reason to believe it was actually pink—not just because he was "black" (evil) on the inside, but because he spent an absurd amount of time at styling shops with a black card.
"It's working hours. Stop dreaming about adding Platinum positions; focus, or you'll hinder the job," Monique reminded him. She was intimately familiar with Roy's flighty nature, but she wouldn't tolerate him ruining her perfect track record. If his slacking caused a blemish on her resume, she'd have to consider who to "sacrifice" next.
"I'll check the Columbian company camps. You handle the local teams," Monique said. Like a hunter of the night, she vanished into the darkness before Roy could get a word in.
Roy stared at the spot where she disappeared and gave a wry smile. "Who recruited this 'grindset' king? When can we trade her in for someone else...?"
Before he could finish his monologue, a whistle cut through the air. An arrow thudded into the ground beside him. If it had been an inch closer, it would have hit him. Roy didn't look annoyed; he maintained his frivolous smile, muttered something under his breath, and likewise vanished into the night.
"Big! Big! Big!" "Small! Small... YES! I won! Pay up!"
Inside a temporary prefab shack, a group of workers was excitedly gambling with dice, their eyes filled with feverish greed. They clashed over a greasy table, hoping to win enough for a night of indulgence once the job was over. They were too cheap to pay for a taxi to the entertainment districts, so they settled for this.
Their boss, the leader of this team, didn't live with them. He had a separate, soundproofed room nearby. The workers knew he had no interest in their small-time bets and hated the noise. In his quiet room, he could call a "lady friend" over to "play chess"—surely more interesting than hanging out with these rough men.
However, tonight, there was no chess-playing lady. Instead, a blue-haired reaper stood before him with a smiling face and eyes as cold as ice.
"Please don't be afraid, sir. I'm just a passerby with a few questions. If you cooperate, I'll leave the moment I'm done."
Roy's voice was gentle, the kind that usually made people like him instantly, but to the boss, it sounded like a reaper sharpening a scythe. He didn't even know where this guy had come from! The man had appeared behind him just as he was about to head out to the bathroom.
The boss felt that if he even tried to lunge for the door, he'd die a miserable death.
"Don't be scared. I'm not exactly a 'good' person, but I do love peace. Just tell me: have you dug up anything... strange?"
Roy toyed with his bow as if chatting with an old friend, but the gesture made it clear: answer, or die.
But the boss had a mission. He had a benefactor behind him. He couldn't betray them so easily, even if he was just a "disposable pawn" in their eyes.
"Strange things? This dump has nothing but dirt! I borrowed a lot of money for this contract, and now I don't know what to do!" The boss put on a look of frustration, lamenting his bad luck.
"Oh, really? Then that's easy. Why don't you transfer the contract to me? I'll pay you double your expenses for this period." Roy's eyes turned dangerous. He spoke jokingly while playing with an arrow.
If he doesn't cooperate, should I shoot through his leg? His arm? Or maybe the 'little guy' below his stomach? Or... just go for the head?
Roy scanned him like a butcher looking at a pig, deciding which cut of meat to take first. This man wasn't important enough to waste time on. Killing someone in Lungmen was a bit of a hassle, but he could just forge it as a fire—he was good at that.
The boss felt the man's killing intent. He weighed the cost of betrayal. Without his benefactor, he would have starved to death in Lungmen years ago. He couldn't betray the one person who had helped him, even if it meant losing money on this job.
But what was the point of resisting? If he died, it was all over.
"I don't know what you're talking about, and I'll never tell you! My grandfather told me: 'He who understands the times is a wise man.' I've always remembered that!" the boss shouted, more to bolster his own courage than to defy Roy.
"Then shouldn't you be telling the truth? Do you not understand what that phrase means?" Roy was confused. Had the book he read been a bootleg version?
"Too bad. I never listened to my grandfather!"
Roy was speechless for a second. Looking at the boss's stubborn eyes, he prepared to release the arrow. "Goodbye, stupid Zalak."
He flicked the arrow. With his strength, it was a death blow.
But in the next second, a brownish-yellow protective layer appeared around the Zalak. A shield made of sand and grit intercepted the arrow.
"Junior... aren't you reaching a bit too far?"